I think I've always known I'd be a planter, gardener, or farmer. My instructions were to stay on the concrete but I would veer to the left and end up in the weeds with dirt rings around my socks and stickers in the palm of my hands. Sixty one years in, and I still pull weeds without gloves. Some people garden for the therapy, some for food, others for money but I, have dirt in my veins. Dirt, seeds, weeds, animals and stories. I've learned some powerful life lessons that heightened my awareness, kept me agile in a world that requires me to dip and dodge when necessary and to sit still at the table of nobles when my presence is requested. When I ask my mother if she and my dad knew what I'd become as a twenty five, thirty five, forty five, fifty five year old adult? She answered, yes! "Exactly who you are today. There was no pine cone, rock, blade of grass, turtle, bird, chicken or neighbor that didn't come home with you." She's right, I've loved nature from the beginning. I am so grateful to be a part of a generation of educator's that taught agro-science. I remember field trips into the San Bernardino mountains to plant pine trees. Everyone in my neighborhood raised some type of livestock, and vegetables on small plots of land measuring 1/4 to 1/2 acre in size. I'm not sure when it became fashionable to need 10 acres but my family and I have always managed to do well with what we have. I guess this post is about gratitude. Grateful for the lessons, grateful for the knowledge, grateful to share with others because of the exposure my parents afforded me. Being outdoors in the garden, in the greenhouse, in the barn chatting it up with the horses, will always be my happy place. Don't become enamoured with social media, start small, ask questions from those who are living it and are bursting at the seams to share. If you'd like to learn more about what we do at our farm, drop us a note, we offer all kinds of classes. Until next time, 

~Margo