FARMING IS THE LIFE FOR ME
It's hard to remember the painstaking process of researching the perfect peonies and hunting for the perfect property, only to spend another 2 years developing the land and another 3 years cultivating our first crop for market. Reflecting back on the last 7 years, it is hard to believe that we are only now getting ready for our first harvestable season. But really, our story began so much earlier that.
I had always imagined I would be an entrepreneur. It suits me well to plan something wild and new, go for it, then revise and revise again until the job is done. Some would consider me reckless and stubborn, but I like to think my adventurous determination is the key to my happy success. Even in grade school, I knew I wanted to be my own boss... and everyone else's boss too. Since then, I have learned that life it is a lot of hard work, and I don't get to control any of it. The beauty of this lifetime knowledge is that now I can simply focus on the dream and the work of the next right thing, and marvel at the adventure being far better than anything I could have planned.
I can't tell you the exact moment I fell in love with the idea of being a flower farmer. I think it was a lot like falling in love with Ben. None of it made sense at first, and then all of a sudden, it was the only thing to do. Ben and I had only known each other 4 months before we were engaged, and we were married only 4 short months after that. It must have been the summer I discovered the budding Alaska Peony Industry that I developed romantic ideas about how perfect flower farming would be. Had I known how much money, blood, sweat and tears I would bury in this field, I might not have dared to try. I certainly didn't think ahead to truck loads and truck loads of rotting manure and yard debris. But, two things I know for sure are that I get a gorgeous return on my investment when that field is in bloom, and I regret nothing!
There is something magical about rows and rows giant pink peonies dancing in the breeze. It makes my heart sing when I see my kids running up and down the aisles with their dirt-smudged faces and their hair all a tangle. Some of the most beautiful memories I have are right here at home, with a million and one things to love and none of them anywhere near under control.
