Progress

Hi I’m Jennifer, and I am a work in progress.

As a mother of four, my job description has changed over the years. From leader of this three ring circus and always being needed when they were 1,4,7 and 10 to chief pain in their butts, and unsolicited advice-giver at 15,19,22, and 25 seems to be the trajectory so far. It’s hard not be needed as you once were to soothe every hurt, but food is still love in this house and that hasn’t steered me wrong yet.

A good country from the farm lunch is our favorite

As a wife, I have progressed from family list maker and organizer to being more of a quality companion, if I do say so myself. We have more time to spend together without being so exhausted from parenting small humans. Sometimes that means we get on each other’s nerves. Other times we get to go on breakfast dates together. It’s wild.

He’s camera shy sometimes

As a homesteader, I spent some time not thinking big enough. I don’t mean in size of land. We have a one acre homestead and it’s not always instagram ready. I mean in terms of permaculture and getting everything working together. This land works hard to feed us and should always be in progress too. Compost piles to turn, chicken runs to be dug out, sheep to be sheared, and gardens to be planted. It’s perfectly imperfect. Like me.

As a farmer, I have become more comfortable being small. At 5’0 (rounding up) that’s no play on words.

I went through a phase where I was still in a profit driven mindset. So go big or go home. Then I realized how much of me I wanted to give up to grow food for others. And I realized I didn’t want to be stressed out about debt while doing it. So I farm a second location of family land for pasture raised pigs, turkeys, and chickens from April-October. That’s the sweet spot for me: Feeding some local families well while maintaining a good, simple life here with a hard working husband and the two kids who are left still at home sprinkled with precious visits from the other two and the grandkids.

New piglet hit the ground three weeks ago

Progress looks so different at almost fifty than it did at twenty, thirty, or forty. My eyes still turn up toward the sky but it’s to memorize the stars on a crisp cool night and breathe more, not to see how close I can fly to the sun without getting burnt.

Love Jenn xx

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