week 25: what's not meant to be

this week on the little dream farm

A snap from our Saturday in Troy, NY visiting the waterfront farmers market, stopping into a favorite cafe and wandering the streets.

I’m a bone-deep believer in the notion that what is for you will not pass you.

But today I want to talk about its opposite—when things don’t or when we choose for them not to happen…and how they’re not meant for us.

Like the time in 2021 we came across a very old Catahoula Leopard hunting dog up for adoption through the Delaware rescue we adopted Dodger and Oliver from, who made us want to open our hearts to a senior dog to live out his days here on the Little Dream Farm. After we’d finally decided we wanted to move forward with pursuing adoption, we got in touch with the foster, only to find out he’d passed away the day prior.

Or the time in 2023 that Chris and I wanted to take the leap to purchase a farm and market garden in New Hampshire from a man who’d run it for 20 years and established a massive customer base and loyal following in the area. He’d offered to come alongside us as a consultant and mentor to get us up and running in the first season, but we hesitated and ultimately decided not to take the leap for a number of reasons. Sadly, that man passed away a month after we’d decided to pass on the opportunity.

This past week we made our way over to Rhode Island to look at an 1800s farmhouse on just under 3 acres, minutes from the local airport, downtown Providence, the nearby beaches, and an hour from Boston.

Just as my perfect and ideal farmhouse came into view, in our due diligence we discovered the neighborhood was mired in an ongoing multi-year court battle regarding the development of a huge solar farm (or likely residential construction if that project doesn’t come to pass) that would abut the property we were considering just on its backside, with the access road for construction directly next to the house, in what would have been the area we’d keep the donkeys.

We talked to the farmers who live just down the road on almost 50 acres of conserved land to get their take on the matter as landowners, farmers, and stewards. They were honest, fair, and we fell in love with them. They’d even offered to take Molly-Max and Dominic for us while we settled in, and to exchange farm sitting in the future if we’d decided to move forward with buying the place.

Our plan would have been to still keep the Little Dream Farm for several years or at least until we felt comfortable with what direction it would go next.

But ultimately, we couldn’t do it. Together with the realtor we worked with, we decided we wouldn’t even make an offer.

I couldn’t talk myself into some of the tradeoffs we’d have to make in order to have the big dream home and little farmette that was straight out of a magazine. This farm, that used to sit on hundreds of acres back in its heyday, had been whittled down to just under three acres with sprawling and ongoing development all around it.

Something about it continually being sold off in pieces until it was just a big old farmhouse on a little bit of land made me feel sad—it was like standing in front of the literal representation of how little we as a society actually value farmers and farming over profit. I’ll spare you that rant, but that tugged heavily on my heart as I stood looking out of the master bedroom windows down the hill and off into the horizon, picturing how this farm, that was once acres of farmland and fields and woods, is now smack in the middle of suburbia.

The phrase from Dr. Seuss’ ‘The Lorax’ was in my head: “Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better, it’s not.”

There was a part of me that desperately wanted to rescue what was left of this little (once big) farm, to re-tell its story, to restore it to its heyday. Would anyone care to do it if it wasn’t us? Did anyone see the value of trying to preserve an old farm the way we do?

But we hesitated. Then we decided to pass. Then the farmhouse’s status went to pending. All within 36 hours.

Chris has a gift of letting things go. A gift, because I hang onto everything and overthink it to death and drive myself nutty in the process. I’d like to think this bit of my personality has also gotten me where I am today, and that it protects me from making poor choices—but I won’t be surprised if it comes with ulcers in the future.

My mom has this saying, “There’s nothing in my life that doesn’t have claw marks all over it.” That is me in a nutshell—always overanalyzing, weighing the balance of absolutely everything. It’s the most libra-thing about this Libra (Chris, a Libra, too).

So why am I telling you all of this? Why bother to share with you the story about the big dream farmhouse and little farmette that didn’t come to fruition?

Well, because as much as our lives are made up of the choices, decisions, and actions we take, they’re shaped just as much by the ones we don’t.

The very word decision comes from the Latin word decidere, which is a combination of two words: de = “off” + caedere = “cut”.

So, to make a decision, means—literally—to cut off the other options.

The thing about decisions, is we never do get the chance to know what would have been had we taken the other path.

I call the big life decisions “Right and Left Life Decisions”—the kind that can take your life in two totally different directions, depending on which you choose.

For me, and to us, this was one of those decisions, and had to be made in the course of less than two days. I’m writing this to you while there’s a knot in my throat and a pit in my stomach from the wanting so badly of something within our grasp and the choosing to cling to our integrity, values, and instinct, and not pursue it.

I’m sad about the history and stories we won’t get to uncover about that house and that land and that farm. I’m sad about the decorating and hosting and living we would have done in that home…the gardens we’d grow. I’m sad about the incredible neighbors we’ll miss out on making into friends. I’m sad about what will happen to that farm if or when the rest of the green space is developed all around it (I’d even daydreamed about calling the landowner who wants to develop that acreage and begging him to sell it so that we could restore and conserve the land as part of the farm).

I’ve learned it’s incredibly easy to tell ourselves, What is for you will not pass you. It’s easy to talk about, identify, and find faith in what feels like it’s meant to be.

What’s hard, is when we want something and the stars don’t align for us—or sometimes even harder—when we choose for them not to align. Does it mean it was not meant to be? Is it because something even better is on the horizon?

It’s quite easy to look into the past and find examples to settle our minds. Like the times in 2020-2021 Chris and I tried renting several different farms in Pennsylvania only to be denied at every turn because at the time we’d had six cats (and now seven!). Looking back, it’s easy to be pleased none of those farm rentals came to fruition, because ultimately buying the Little Dream Farm did.

So how do you steady yourself in the moment when things that feel like they could be meant to be…aren’t?

For me, I’ve clung to this phrase, “It’s this or something better,” to try and ease my overthinking. But it’s believing in and having even just the littlest bit of faith that we really do make the best decisions with the information we have at the time, and that we must trust that, no matter how tantalizing something may be.

While I’m a bone-deep believer in the notion that What is for you will not pass you, I also believe in my (and together with Chris, our) hunch that when we pass on what feels like it could be for us, but isn’t…it’s because it truly wasn’t.

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Micro and Buist were both recently at the vet and our vet has remarked on two occasions this year just how HEALTHY all seven of our cats are.

I thought I’d share what we attribute it to…their food!

We’ve been feeding Darwin’s Raw Pet Food to the Furmers now since the summer of 2021, and that’s resulted in healthy teeth, healthy gums, healthy weights, normal bloodwork, healthy litter box habits—seven healthy cats. If you’ve been thinking about swapping your pet to raw and now it’s coming up again, that probably means you should go for it!

Use our code “FURMERS” at checkout to get 10 lbs. of food for just $14.95. When you use our code, Darwin’s will donate that $14.95 straight to Project Meow—the rescue we worked with in Philadelphia. Their president always forwards me the emails when they receive their checks from Darwin’s from y’all making the swap, and I love that we’re able to help more pets begin a healthier diet, and help one of our nearest and dearest animal rescues continue to receive funds to save more cats in need.

Use our code FURMERS when you check out and ping me if you have any questions about swapping to raw with Darwin’s!

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