week 1: beginning anew

this week on the little dream farm

It is said the average human lifespan is about 4,000 weeks.

That hits kind of differently, doesn't it? 

Even the larger number makes that average—76.9 years—sound somehow...shorter? Lesser? I couldn't quite place the feeling when my neighbor, while sitting having tea in her off-grid home in the woods that she and her husband built from the ground up themselves, shared this fact with me from a story she'd heard on the radio that morning while they were going about their morning chores. 

That's 4,000 Monday mornings…4,000 weekends…4,000 chances to do with each of those series of seven days as we wish, should we even be lucky enough to have all of them or more. Too many of us know too many who haven't.  

I felt a pang in my stomach when she said the number, like a gut check.

Right then, I thought to myself as I drove home from her house that afternoon. That’s almost 1,800 gone by for me and almost 1,900 gone by for Chris. Best we get to making the most of the rest of them. 

As a young girl I always kept a journal. What began as an innocent Dear Diary morphed into the place for all my teenage angst (insert eyes rolling face) and morphed again into a place to furiously put pen to paper to work out all the noise swirling around in my ever-on-overdrive mind...my handwriting always signifying my mind outpacing my hand all throughout my 20s. 

It's been a number of years since I've kept a written journal, but I felt a nudge more than a few times this last year to begin the practice again. Only this time through a different lens...through the eyes of the Little Dream Farm. 

No two of the fifty-two weeks in the year were the same during our first year on the farm. While the scenery is constantly-changing around us outside, so, too, were my and Chris' hearts and minds as the year unfolded and progressed. 

I wish I could bottle it, I've thought about individual moments many times throughout the year.

The way the last snow of the winter season greens up the grass seemingly overnight--the "Poor Man's Fertilizer," my neighbor (we call him Pop) told me that's what people around here call it. 

Or how the big hill just beyond the house erupts in wildflowers and tiny wild strawberries that give off their sweet scent as you walk through the pasture to get to one of the best vantage points on the farm.

The way the sun hangs in the trees in the late summer as the fireflies begin to light up the garden in the hot evening breeze. 

And how the leaves, just like the grand finale of a fireworks show, show off their best and brightest colors all at once at the absolute peak of fall foliage. 

I want to be more fully present for all of it this year...that was the first big shift the farm stirred in my heart. 

Now that we're here in this special place, I just want for time to slow down. Since I know that it won't, instead, I want to slow down to be sure to savor it. 

Perhaps you'd like to slow down alongside us, too. 

So, in the spirit of bringing back to life the days of the beloved Dear Diary (sans the angst) and in the interest of making the most of these next 52 (out of 4,000) weeks of 2023, I thought we could meet here on Sundays for a Weekly Farm Note, if you will.

The goings on of our life here on the farm and of the life going on all around us. 

Instagram is the most wonderful place for connecting us and I truly love the growing community in our little corner of the internet. So that's not going anywhere.

But for those of you who crave a little deeper connection, who like to go beyond the 90-second clips and the 2,200 character-limit captions and the algorithms that work so hard to ensure you only see what you can be prompted to buy, you'll be in good company here. Here, I’m not limited by what I can say or show you, and where we can all freely dialogue more easily with one another via the comment and chat functions in this platform. 

Here, I'll share more of the things Chris and I are thinking about and planning for the farm, progress updates on projects and animals, what’s growing in the garden, the workings of the farm, more on where we live and the surrounding area, my thoughts on farming and food, and even a few recipes, too. 

If I'm going to hold space in your inbox and your time and attention as you read this weekly note, I want to be worthy of your time, so please also send your suggestions any time for things you'd like to see or read more about here. 

Additionally, if there's anyone you know who might enjoy this Farm Note or whom you think may like to spend some moments hanging out with us on Instagram, please share the link to our newsletter or this link to our Instagram account. We'd love to get to hang out with the people you love, too.

Finally, I'd just like to take a second to thank you.

Chris and I had no idea what to expect when we created our farm Instagram account a few months before we moved. We knew we had no idea what we were doing moving our lives from the big city to a farm in the country, but that we're both smart enough, hardworking (re: stubborn) enough, and team-minded enough to figure it out along the way. We learned quickly that we could improve on asking for help, and that we're surrounded by neighbors and friends who are more than happy to give it. 

And we learned that there is a host of very special people all around the world who happen to care about what we're learning, what we're doing, how we're growing, and how our dreams are unfolding. It's hard for me to put into words what that's meant to me, but I know enough to know that it's deeply special, and so I thank you. 

I'm eagerly looking forward to what this next year has in store for all of us and for all the learning, growing, laughing, and loving we'll do along the way. 

We are deeply grateful to hold space here in this world with you. 

From Chris, myself, and all the critters here on the Little Dream Farm, may this be your year, and may there be many blessings on the path ahead for you and yours. 

With love and gratitude this first week of 2023... 

Sarah