Before we got our own farm I had a lot of ideas about what it would look like. Some of these dreams were really helpful. It gave me a really clear picture of the types of farm projects I was most interested in, and helped me keep a mental running tab of what kinds of space/materials I might need. Other times though, dreaming has clouded my vision of the reality of our farm, both in good and negative ways. What do I mean?
I guess I mean that sometimes the vision that I have for the farm can't be fully recognized in a mere two months, before spring has really settled in. It takes years, and savings to really have the kind of infrastructure and aesthetic quality that I desire. Sometimes, we have to use fence posts that are a bit rusty, because at $4.50 a pop, it's crazy to not re-use the rusty ones, even if I know they will need to be replaced soon. But it works. And the vision of a gorgeous t-post fence alternating with cedar pine posts and page wire will come... in time. We have fencing up, it's keeping the livestock contained, and that, in practicality is what counts. I'm very impatient by nature, when I want something done, I just do it. This has been helpful because I can look around, see what we have, and make it work even if the supplies aren't perfect. But even if it's functional, and affordable, I always want more. I want it to be what I had envisioned in my head. Is this a symptom of being born in a culture of want? Is this the drive that makes a business successful? Is it the life-long battle with OCD kicking in? I don't know. But it is always present. And sometimes, it overshadows the sheer beauty of the work we've done so far, and of the absolute peace that farming brings to me. The quality of life that this farm offers saves me daily. It gives me purpose, and drive, and fulfillment. That's what matters, and I'm trying to remember that.