3Splitz Farm

Dirt to Dreams

Some folks wonder what dreams are made of. For me my current dream is made of dirt. Or it at least starts with dirt or land but there is a vision behind the layers of dust, dirt, grass, rock and critters.
Today’s dream is agricultural at its roots with the seeds planted for future development over the long haul. It’s hard to explain but to just jot down the CliffsNotes of the vision without giving away the finish line is a great way to show a glimpse to others who maybe can’t see the path on their own. My motto has always been dream big and this is a great example to showcase.
Just a chick on her tractor with her faithful sidekick moving dirt in one way or another. A whole different level of badassery than you see on the weekdays but equally satisfying. How could that be? I’m working on my dream. I’m using my own blood, sweat and tears to build something that matters. The depth and breadth of the project is hard to quantify today but the process in itself of building/assembling the dream is priceless.
The people on the journey near and far who see the value of the dream and even participate in one way or another is magical. Sharing smiles is ever so treasured when on or around my dirt pile I call rustic paradise. This past weekend we had a family gathering. The memories made on the land, in the dirt were irreplaceable. My 80+ years young mom got to share in our country festivities and see a simple side of life. No hustle, no bustle, no TV, but somehow time goes by so fast.
Three generations of women sharing stories, memories, experiences on the dirt / land I incorporate in the big dream. For now this is just one example of the value within the land. There are many more from virtual connections, friend connectivity, farmily traditions and overall growth as people within this environment.
This weekend I dealt with snakes, ducks, rabbits, dogs and other critters. I came out unscathed and enjoyed every last minute. Even the frightful moment dealing with a venomous snake. And the irony of the snake picture is I stopped to get video proof of this snake to identify it. Now it appears to be a copperhead yet last time I wrote about a snake I noted I screamed dramatically. This time I didn’t but probably should have given the type of snake!
The good news is I lived to tell another story and hope that somewhere in the world somebody is enjoy my dream big stories. Signing off as a farm girl for now before I strap on my heels for the day job. Until next time.
3Splitz Farm

Farmily

Of course, we’ve all heard of family.

Maybe you’ve even used the word “framily” for the friends who become like family.

In recent months I’ve found a new word. Maybe one no one else has ever used. I have a family, and even some framily, but now I also have a farmily.

Pieces of two families pulled together by a goal, a dream, a mission, a purpose. Dividing the work, multiplying the joy, the benefits, the possibilities. Each with our portion. Each with our reasons. Each with our gifts to sow and reap.

As with any blended group, there are growing pains. For example, there may have been some disagreements over the thermostat. Some like lights left on, others like them turned off. What brand of toilet paper to use. Who does the laundry, the cleaning, the shopping, the mowing, the countless other chores? Who makes sure the doors are locked? Moving, hanging, moving again. How early do we get up? What time do we eat? Who makes the coffee? Unloads the dishwasher? What about the pets? When and how often do we play? All the tasks…trimming, painting, scrubbing. Some were quick agreements. Some needed negotiations. Priorities shift and shuffle. But in the end, we all get there to do the work as often as we can. We bring our best selves. That’s the deal.

Farmily is a special bond. United by work and dirt. We each have our own dreams, and somewhere down the line they intersect, off in the not-too-distant future.

Not many will understand.  Few can share in it.  Dirt is thicker than water.  Our farmily. 

business

A Numbers Game

I work in a profession where numbers are king. Pre-post data. Year over year growth. People love numbers. But not me, at least not always.

I have a love-hate relationship with numbers. I like the scale when the numbers go down. I’m not happy when the number goes up. Ever since I started Weight Watchers for the first time at the ripe old age of 12, I’ve watched that number on the scale with trepidation.

In my last round of weight loss, I learned that the scale can sometimes be a damn liar. There are all kinds of reasons for the scale to go up or down, some of which have little to do with what I did or didn’t eat. Maybe it means muscles are growing. Still, sometimes, I forget and get all tied up in what the scale tells me each morning. It becomes more than data and sometimes inches in to my judgment of self-worth.

Perhaps the number I fear the most has a dollar sign in front of it. For a long time, I have held on to a number as a symbol of my security, my prosperity, my future. That number meant a lot to me. So much that I refused to change it except when I was forced to.

It took a push from a dear friend and the universe to finally change that number from something that just appears on a screen to something real. Yup, I doubled down on my dollar sign and transformed that number into grass, soil, and timber. I changed in what I thought was the security of being a passenger and put myself in a driver’s seat.

So, the digits after my dollar sign may be smaller now. It’s what I have always feared. I have to look at it with a deep breath sometimes and remember…instead of disappearing, I am taking that number and transforming it into something new. Betting on my sweat and effort instead of just watching the screen, crossing my fingers and hoping it goes up. I’m taking the reins, moving in new directions, from the ground up.  Using my roots to create something new, beyond numbers.

Watch it grow.

3Splitz Farm, family

Never Have I Ever

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Never have I ever…

….driven a tractor.

….cleared out my own patch of overgrown rose bushes.

….mowed acre after hilly acre of thick wet grass with a push mower.

….ridden on a four-wheeler.

….shared my bed with a dog.

….eaten an avocado.

….moved myself into a farmhouse.

If we were playing the game “never have I ever,” which of these would you agree with?  Which have you already done?

In our first couple of weekends on the farm, at least one of our farmily knocked each of these things off our “never have I ever” lists.  I’ll let you wonder which belongs to who.  There are some surprises.  Many more not listed here.  And ones we can’t even imagine on the horizon.

Funny how this new adventure is taking us each on refreshing paths.  New experiences and challenges are possible at every turn.  Some take deep breaths before we try.  Some take asking questions, even a little trial and error.  It’s learning about the land, ourselves, and even each other.  We are knocking things off our lists while filling up our time with amazing memories.

What’s on your “never have I ever” list that you need to cross off?

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