It’s been hard to keep up with documenting all that has been happening around our place. For the first time, I’m no longer the one having to keep everything moving forward outside. With Chris home full time now, days pass and I don’t step a foot into the garden. It’s both a relief and cause for concern. My identity has been shaken this winter. Who I was is changing and I’m not quite sure who I’ll end up being after this transition is complete.
While I’ve never been so free from the physical side of farming, I’m now trapped in a new way. My days are spent buried in mountains of paperwork and projects and never ending lists of to-do’s and should have done’s. While it’s difficult to not check and balance my progress each day and end up feeling like a failure, there is so much growth happening within these walls. I know things are headed in the right direction and the only way to measure progress is from a distance, not with a magnifying glass.
I am slowly making a dent in the book. As a child, I was always a tough student. I would plead and argue for new assignments if I couldn’t find inspiration to complete the one I had been assigned, especially when it came to writing. Without inspiration, I couldn’t seem to get a single word down onto paper. My teachers often threw up their hands up in frustration, scolding me that this would be something that’d haunt me down the road. They were right. The few that “got me” would allow for special writing assignments where I picked the topic and then would dive head first in and really thrive. Letting inspiration lead was always the magic ticket to get the words to flow.
While the book is about one of my favorite subjects, flowers, I have sat staring at a blank screen for much more time than I like to admit. Everyone but me is understanding of the process. They all knew it would be hard. I think I was the only one who thought I could somehow plow my way through the process, fast enough to not feel the pain. No such luck. Each word has to be coaxed out, slowly and steadily and only kindness is rewarded. I’m having to learn a new way to motivate myself. The whip just doesn’t work like it used to.
The flowers are quietly growing under their protective domes. With such a mild winter, their growth has gone unchecked since the start of the year. We keep waiting for an arctic front to swoop in and knock things back, but so far, nothing is on the horizon. If things keep up as they are, we’ll be harvesting our first flowers from the hoop houses by months end.
All of the dahlias that we are going to take cuttings from were brought out of the basement and put on heat mats in the greenhouse. The first round of seed trays have been sown too. The propagation greenhouse is starting to feel like spring already!