In July 2005, we moved to a farm, not because it was a farm, but because the farmhouse and buildings were sitting on 96 of the most beautiful acres we had ever seen. There were rippling hay fields, a towering pine forest, a serpentine stream, two ponds, and wide-angle views of Vermont’s Green Mountains. There were deer, turkey, woodchucks, rabbits, and all manner of birds and rodents and bugs. There were also a lot of run-down barns, and an 1840s homestead in which not one room was habitable.
Geoff and I imagined fixing up the house. We did not imagine that, one by one, our children would become farmers. We did not imagine that, one by one, the barns would prove crucial to our kids’ ongoing operation. We did not imagine that helping our kids realize their dreams would propel us along in the direction of our own.
I did not realize that all of these experiences of rural living would inspire and enable me to write the books that I have–What a Body Knows (2009), Family Planting (2011), and now Why We Dance (2015). They have.
It has become a favorite saying of ours: The farm will provide. It does.