Saturday marked 12 years since the farm became ours. Ellie, Cigo and I had a great day. We had nowhere to be, nothing pressing to do and no one to see. We kept the gate closed (which has always been a sign of a good day for me) and boiled sap, crafted, swung, tidied, played and enjoyed our time together.
Sometimes I question the farm. Is it the right choice for us?
Would life be easier or happier if we lived somewhere else? A neighbourhood where Ellie could play with other kids or ride her bike on asphalt. Somewhere we could walk to the library or the park. A yard where I could handle the grass and snow myself (but still have room for a garden and chicken coop).
I follow a few bloggers who have downsized or tried country living and then returned to town. They write about how happy they are and how it was the right move for their families. Should I consider changing my mind?
On Saturday, those questions didn’t enter my mind. We had a balance of work and play, inside and outside. Cigo had two big runs (and reminded me that it’s pointless to give him a bath at noon if I’m going to let him go for another run after lunch). Ellie played on her swing (who needs a park?), rode around in the trailer, understood the need to do a little early season outside clean-up and was willing to help, explored along the creek, experimented with her loose parts obstacle course and so much more.
She is an independent, confident, capable child, and the farm is a huge part of that.
I asked Ellie a few weeks ago if she’s ever considered living somewhere else. She looked at me like I had three heads, and said, “No.” She loves the farm, and I hope that I can continue to build that feeling for her.
Part of my desire to stay on the farm is her future. I am not optimistic about climate change and the future of the world. The farm is protection—food, self-sufficiency, safety—if she needs it someday. It’s also my chance to do a little bit for climate change—protecting nature, sequestering carbon, restoring soil and forests.
It’s also Matt. The farm was both of our dreams, but when we got here I saw that the farm was vital to Matt in a deep way. I don’t want to betray that.
There are other good reasons to be here, both practical and emotional. Financially, we can live here fairly affordably. Philosophically, I believe this lifestyle is good for us. Creatively, I love a fixer-upper house and the property, barn, gardens and house inspire me so much.
No matter the questions, I come back to how important the farm is to me spiritually. Rereading my previous farm-iversary posts, the theme that is constant through the past 12 years is how special this experience is and how meaningful it is for me. That is still true.
The spirituality of it has changed over the years. Now it’s less about the beauty and peace of the property and more about experiencing it with Ellie and seeing her thrive and enjoy it.
We go through seasons in life, and this season is about her. This season is also likely the source of some of my questions. Managing the property on my own with a young child is a big juggle. I’m not doing as many projects as I want to because I can’t right now. But going through the weekend where she took on some of the work and recognized the need to care for the farm filled my spirit.
This farm, her, me. Matt and the generations that have been here before us. The animals, plants, water and life. There is magic here. I am grateful for the 12 years that we’ve had, and I’m here for the future of our family at this farm.
Home on 129 Acres 
I grew up on a farm. Learned so much about nature, had room to run, room to explore with my sisters, felt the protection of our parents. I also learned about working together to manage the tasks needed to keep a farm running and the animals contented. Later my little brother, who came at the age of five, also enjoyed the space, protection and love.
This is such a lovely message, Carolyn, and you give me so much hope that this will be Ellie’s experience when she looks back on her childhood. Thank you.
It may be that Ellie also feels that deep connection to the farm that Matt had. She’s never known anything else, so it’s hard to say I guess. But the fact that looked at you like you had three heads is a good sign! It sounds like she is busy having a happy childhood on the farm.
I think you’re right about the season you’re in. But I see that you ARE making progress and moving the house and farm in the direction you want it to go, even now when you are managing on your own with a young child and working outside the home. I think that’s worth remembering. Your progress will probably ramp up as Ellie gets older, more independent, and (hopefully) even more helpful.
I’ve always had the impression that your heart was also quite settled and content on the farm. I could imagine you missing it very much were you to go suburban…
Thank you, as always for your encouragement, Jem.
I grew up on a working farm, in a small community. We rode our bikes on gravel, skated on creaks between the weeds, climbed trees, walked up to 2 km to visit our friends, had lots of land to explore, our swing was a rope Dad tied to a maple tree with a wooden seat. It was a great life. I am glad I grew up on a farm and not in the suburbs.
Your message gives me so much encouragement. Your experience sounds wonderful to me. I hope that Ellie feels the same about her childhood.
She will.
Hi Julia,
The beautiful words and sentiment written of your desire to live and maintain your home/farm with Ellie is a treasured gift.
Continue to enjoy the journey creating memories that will endure for years to come.
Matt would be so proud of your values, determination and accomplishments.
God bless,
Pam
PS Jaro and I recently returned from the holiday in Mexico we took with my sister and brother-in-law that we were originally to take with Audrey and Steve. We toasted Audrey who I believe was looking down on us so glad we didn’t cancel our trip. We had a lovely time, however, Jaro came home with a respiratory illness and myself with a painful ear infection. As I am unable to sleep writing you in the wee hours of the morning I remind myself that nothing is perfect. While we are both laid up at the moment I’m grateful for the happy memories with our family and now back in the comfort of our home as we recuperate.