City Life to Farm Wife

So, when I say “city life” I need for you to use your imagination a bit. I don’t come from New York City or any place fancy like that. I don’t sip mojitos with my gal pals while discussing romantic exploits and the perils of hailing a cab.  But I’ve never ever been one to care for animals or grow food. I killed a cactus once.

In 6^th grade, I did manage to get in-school suspension due to telling my teacher I was a “city girl-- so don’t mess with me.” 1. I went to a very small school. In-school suspension meant I took my desk to this closet area. Basically, I was able to do whatever I wanted for a full day. Jokes on them. 2. “City girl?” I grew up in a little downtown and was allowed to walk to the library by myself. This hardly gave me street cred.

Anyway, a few years ago my husband discovered he was an excellent cook and enjoyed gardening. Before you smirk, he is a manly man. 6’ 3” of pure testosterone. But lucky for me, he can cook like a professional chef. And since he spent a few hundred dollars creating a garden, he’s really stuck to it.

He got an idea that he wanted to be a farmer – more for a hobby than anything. During his learning phase we traveled to visit other farmers. (That’s an entry for another time.) He’s done his research and even took a farming class through the University of Tennessee. And as luck would have it, property became available that would be perfect for us.

On one of our visits to the property, Michael and I walked down to the pond. I started to get overwhelmed. We had a to-do list that was four pages front and back. As I was spewing out all my thoughts, I heard someone yell, “Dude.” I stopped, looked at Michael. Turned out it was a bullfrog who was totally telling me to chill out.

So here we go into a new adventure. Join me while I learn about farming, revamping an old farm house and hopefully making new memories. And maybe I’ll learn how to cook something from scratch. Maybe. 

Photo by Heather Welch.