Thank-yous & turnips.
We've stumbled into so much blind luck in our 30ish years on this planet, both Alex and I.
We get to follow dreams with the confidence of the truly privileged and we never second-guess the support we'll have from our families and friends. We've found in each other a partner who works to give the other one their best and keep them safe, sane and laughing. We get to work a farm we call our own, completely because of the generosity, steadfastness and trust shown to us by family. We're able-bodied with a 3-legged dog whose missing leg somehow makes us even more lucky.
And to make it all better, there's folks out there--the many of you reading this now-- who give hoots about what we do! We've had an embarrassment of riches when it comes to press coverage, and whether its because of my big teeth or Alex's stage-lit blue eyes, it's felt good to see others call our story & our work worthy--no matter how unoriginal it is among so many other milennials looking for significance under the sun just like us.
You listen when we sulk about muddy fields and the slog of summer. You buy the napa cabbage that confuses you, you believe us when we say (over and over again) that a fried egg on top of sauteed bok choy is THE BEST THING EVER. You shopped with us when we offered only a humble table at the Sunday market in Galveston, replete with Dixie cups covered in kumquats we pilfered from the backyard of Alex's grandmother. You drive to the farm on Saturdays to buy up towering piles of eggplants and okra while its sweltering and now turnips, beets and radishes. Don't think for a second that those $5, $16 or $30 you hand over in exchange for the fruits of our labor are insignificant or nothing big. They are the downpayment on our future here as young farmers. Thank you for your investment. Thank you for your belief in us.
It feels decidedly like a different world we're in than the one Alex and I entered fresh-faced from college over 8 years ago. More than ever, it's up to us to look around and see what good we can do with the exceptionally lucky lot we've been given. We promise to work hard to ensure that our fortunes aren't squandered but shared. We have got it good in so many ways, and we can turn that into as much good for others as we're willing to go.
It'll be an adventure to suss out and one we'll be figuring out as we go along---it's lucky we've got all you good folks with your good will around us.
P.S. The magazine we're holding in the top picture is Modern Farmer, and they put us in their Winter issue alongside a slew of other farmers across the country. We are extremely chuffed to be in such a schmancy publication and we're just thankful there's no scratch n' sniff. Alissa Hessler of The Urban Exodus took the photo back last Spring (when we were doooowwwwn in the dumps about all the rain and flooding on the farm and wouldn't ya know it---good came of that time, because we gained new friends in her and her husband and then we ended up looking grubbily glamorous in a magazine a year later. Life, huh?)
