Our own dirt. If I was going to sum up our goal over the last five years, that’d be it. Our five year plan has been to get us some dirt. It’s been a rather circuitous five year plan (ie we’ve lived in five states since T was born, soon to be six). A times we found ourselves discouraged, distracted, and deeply conflicted. And there have also been times when we were passionate, hopeful, and confident about our decisions. Both bruises and small wins ride in the wake of these five years.
I have a thing about jinxing myself, but it’s been more than eight months since we signed on the dotted line so I can finally say… duhn, duhn, duhn… we have our own dirt. Just a mere 2,400 miles from our current location. Last summer, E and T flew out to Oregon to visit family and decided to go look at an old farm that’d been on the market a good long while. We decided to put an offer in on the place and closed on it several months later. What? you say, You didn’t see it first?! No, my dears, I didn’t. For anyone who knows me, that might be a shocker as I’ve carried a lot of angst about this decision, and if I’m not driving or at least backseat driving, I tend to claw at the nearest window.
But I think I was ready to let go of control and embrace this place for several reasons. First, I trust that E’s vision and my vision of the future align quite nicely (and that’s rather lucky since on the grand scale, we both have a rather unconventional view of the thing…). If he saw potential and hope and a good framework underneath the trash and dilapidation then I knew I would too. He actually couldn’t even tell me how many bedrooms the old farmhouse had, but we both knew that didn’t really matter. He knew the important parts: creek, forest, fields, barn, tractor, neglected fruit trees…
Second, I am ready to make it work. Ready to start. Ready to stop pulling my frickin’ t-posts. When this land presented itself, I found myself at the fork in the road between Accept Imperfection Avenue and Endless Pursuit Boulevard. I closed my eyes and jumped, and I am so happy I did. One thing I have learned over the last five years is that the pursuit of enough money and perfect timing to start doing what I feel passionate about can be well worth it, can be full of sacrifice, and can frankly be a drag. But life is short, and we have enough, and I think five years is sufficient pursuit.
So, there you have it. There we have it: some dirty old dirt to call our own. Commence Wooden Mallet (3.0) summer of 2015.