Knowing What You Want and Why I Respect Farmers

I want to be living a perfectly romantic life. Like, you know the way the movies roll out a cast of characters and they’re living in perfectly decorated apartments? And their hyper interesting lives become intertwined with an equally beautiful person in the push and pull of falling in love? Yeah, nothing like that…

I want morning mist. I want the sun filtering through the trees. I want fresh eggs from my chickens out back. I want to have to do the morning chores before breakfast. I want to work in the dirt and earth. I want to jar the leftovers that aren’t eaten or sold at market. I want goats and goat milk and goat cheese. I want to have a desk that is only for writing. I want to have a window that looks out into the fields, over to the mountains, or down into the valley. I want to visit the same bank on the same river or the same grove in the roots of the same tree over and over until I have the spot memorized. I want to live by the seasons. I want to have to prepare for winter.  I want to pray for spring. I want to play all summer. I want to work throughout the fall. I want to rely on the land. I want to create and build and subsist on a much of my own makings as possible. I want to gather as much as Mother Nature will create or build for me in the wild. I want to scrape by just above hungry, just above cold, far above content, far above happy. I want to return to the earth, live on her time and poke away at letter keys to describe it all.