On where I've been.

“No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.” — Hal Borland

After ten years of growing a company and our family, it turns out I was more tired than I realized.

This winter has been the first time I’ve really let myself rest. We moved with the season instead of fighting against it, and now I finally understand what winter gives us permission to do.

With that said, the farmhouse has been keeping us entertained in its own right. Ice dams, field mice, sourdough adventures, some of the strongest winds we’ve ever felt, and enchanting nightly visits from our friends, the deer.

What surprised me most about our first winter at the farmhouse was how little boredom I felt. Instead, there was a kind of peace I haven’t experienced in a long time.

For someone who has spent the last decade building things at full speed, I assumed slowing down would feel uncomfortable. But it hasn’t. The last two years carried more weight than I think I fully processed at the time, and this winter gave me space to finally start recovering from it.

The harder part has been resisting the urge to jump into something new simply because I know how to do it, or because that is what is expected of me. Especially when it isn’t actually what I want to be doing anymore.

Many of you have asked me, “What’s next?” or “Have you had your next big idea yet?”. The truth is, somewhere in the middle of all that quiet, something unexpected started to take shape. A new project has emerged and it’s different from anything we’ve done before. I hope to share more details soon.

It feels like I was just here talking about putting the garden to bed, and just like that, the snow is starting to disappear. Only a few stubborn piles remain where the sun doesn’t quite reach. The smell of spring has made us all giddy. The kids have been running around outside like puppies, rediscovering what grass feels like under their feet. Rolling down hills, laughing.

And what a gift it is to finally have the bandwidth to notice it.

Now with only a couple of weeks left until spring, I can feel the shift happening. The restlessness and the pull to get outside again are returning. The spirit knows when the seasons are changing.

We have big plans for this year’s garden. Our six raised beds are becoming fourteen. We’re adding more fruit trees, a cut flower garden, a pumpkin patch, and more vegetables than we will probably know what to do with.

Would you be interested in following along as we build it?