Mixed Blessings.

The weekend was pretty great - I spent a nice early lunch with my parents and the granddog, zipped home and spread a 50# bag of sand on my driveway and walk in anticipation of my fragile dinner guest.  Who ended up putting the dinner date on the wrong day on her calendar, but drove right down when I called and we had a lovely time.  Then, Sunday morning, I met two of my favorite people at the firehouse breakfast where we people-watched and gossiped.  After breakfast, I drove up to my sister, Melanie's, toddled after her as she did her morning chores (I was very early), then we headed to Marianne's.  She had come back for the weekend and we never miss a chance to see our farm-sister-soul-sister, Marianne.  As we sat and chatted, Marianne said that she had offered to lease the farm to the Mennonite group in her area.  Melanie and I held our breath.  Were we going to lose our link to Marianne?  Lose the farm? 

Aside here.  Marianne's farm is the most heavenly place.  It is a beautiful old farmhouse (updated and beautifully restored) on 100 acres of land that rises up and provides views that make you catch your breath.  There's a large, new barn and a large greenhouse, lots of fencing, a pond.  I tell you, if I won the lottery, I'd know what I'd do with my winnings.  Just saying.

Back to my windy tale. 

Turns out they did not want to lease it - they were too busy.  Melanie and I sighed with relief and then said, at the same time, WE'LL LEASE IT!  Of course, we were mad.  Stark raving.  But Marianne said - Sure.  She and her husband would come back later in the month to prune the trees (apple, pear, plum) and we could have full use of the orchard, the blueberries, the gooseberries, the blackberries, the raspberries, the asparagus bed, the rhubarb bed, the greenhouse, and any other farmable spot.  For nothing.  She was just glad that it was being cared for.

Of course, this means more work for both of us, but the heady thought is that, what we don't use for ourselves, we can sell at the farmers market.  Melanie is already a member of an established market, as well as a vendor.  This kind of insanity could have been the residual effect of endless dark days of frigid temps, but the idea of actually being able to grow eggplant has completely drowned out the chorus of "No" in the back of my mind.  The farm is on my way to my parents, so it is not out of the way on the weekend.  Melanie and I work well as a team.  I can bring the boy and let him run around.  I can grow eggplant.

Will it work?  Well, I sure hope so.  I hope that I have an endless supply of Pollyanna.  I hope the garden gods smile down at us.  I hope spring comes.  My hope springs eternal...