Last winter we finally decided to start a little flower farm. Our intention was to grow organic flowers to peddle to local florists and designers. Per our usual selves we dove right in planning and planting (not necessarily in that order). Life tends to take liberties and we were tossed a little (okay, a rather big) curve ball that ended with us moving the entire farm.
Our summer was filled with digging holes (as we popped up plants), boxes, boxes, and yet more boxes, and wrangling livestock away from the old home. Then more hole digging (as we planted plants), boxes, boxes, and yet more boxes, and wrangling livestock into new quarters at our new home.
I'm not going to lie. Our first reaction wasn't pretty. Among the multitude of other things that have to be once again created from scratch, the flower fields would also have to be started all over again. Disappointment and doubt creeped up and smacked us sharply in the back of our heads.
Only after entertaining a brief pity party which included a few tears and decent-sized pouting episodes (plus the ice cream with all kinds of sugary madness) were we able to finally see the shiny, silver linings.
Instead of five acres, we now have ten -- in one of our favorite areas ever (we lived in the same town many years ago). The land itself is to kill for. We never, never would have guessed that we'd find a place with even better land for our flower farm and fiber animals than we had previously.
We find ourselves undaunted -- rejuvenated even -- and have returned to the drawing-and-planning board in order to have flowers available for the coming spring. Did I mention the many mature fruit trees and the walnut grove? Natural brown dye heaven, ya'll.
And then there are the ponds. We are smitten.