My mother always assumed that having a daughter was synonymous with dresses and playing princess. Then I showed up, and went through phases where only wore pants, came back from birthday parties covered in mud because I HAD to go out and play soccer with the boys, and secretly signed up for the baseball team. I don’t ever remember wanting to be a doctor or an astronaut, but I had a plan.
I envisioned a big house with a lot of land. Chickens to give us eggs, cows for milk, and whatever else we needed to get bacon and all the other good stuff. My husband and I would be fully self-sufficient, him a lawyer and doctor and me a vet and teacher. Our parents would each live in a nearby – but not too close – cottage so we could tend to their needs too. The kids would be home-schooled and hang out with their grandparents, and we would have everything we needed right there. Yes, I have always been an optimist.
Things did not go quite as planned. For one, I found out a vet had to put animals to sleep if they could not heal them (thanks, mom). That may seem obvious, but to an idealistic seven year old, it was a deal breaker. I also did not study to become a teacher, and instead of marrying a doctor lawyer, I married a watchmaker! Oops. But I am jumping ahead.
Over the years, I started horse-riding and to say that I love it falls short. It centers me. I love the challenge of working with a horse to get them to do what you want and make it look easy (well, that’s the theory). So when I was about to graduate from university and quickly beginning to loathe the question “what will you do when you graduate?” I started saying I wanted to become a cowboy. And I realized I was only 50% kidding.
When Francois and I met (a story in and of itself), while I was doing my best to ignore the signs that we were getting along famously and on our way to a – gasp! – relationship*, I mentioned to him that I was planning an early retirement on a ranch. I am not sure what I expected his response to be, but he took me completely by surprise (neither the first or last time, as it turns out). He thought for a second and simply said “could I have a vegetable garden?”
We both thought we were 99% joking. But then we got married and now we are planning an 8 month honeymoon that will segue into us going to live on a farm, and that is what this blog is all about.
*Yes, I was a commitmentphobe.