I wake up this morning and putter my way to the kitchen to get a fresh cup of coffe with cream. Lily gets some chicken for breakfast. I pick up my journal and a fountain pen and go outside to the covered porch. I sit down and inhale fully. I love the early morening views in Spring. Everything is popping bright, brilliant greens and the flower beds and containers are busting out in blues, purples, yellows and pinks, making me happy.
A smile curves on my face as I remember when this was just a dream. Now it is a reality. I have a farm/ranch of my own and that I am build out to create an artistic community, an education center, and a place for local families to come and learn about how food is grown and to pick their own.
I love that I have built a small community of tiny homes where women come and build bonds with other women. We take care of each other and break bread with each other. No fussing. No drama. Just connection.
I love that there are copses of treese all over the farm/ranch where we have picnic tables under the trees. We can meander on the paths to those spaces and do our own thing – paint, write, stitch, make photographs – whatever tickles our fancy.
I smile and watch Lily do her thing every morning. She’s following the scent of something around the yard. Every once in a while she finds a dead bug or worm. She flips over onto her back and wiggles back and forth on it. Then Lily flips back over, sniffs it, and repeats if she feels she needs to wiggle more.
I look around and think about my upcoming day – doing some writing, filming some video, and packaging orders from my websites. This is the diverse, creative life I’ve always wanted.