“Seeds” and a Woodchipper.

We had no idea. Well, okay, that’s a bit of a stretch. We had some idea about what we were getting into when we moved to this farm land. You know that saying about “plant a seed and it’ll grow”? We basically took every seed you could ever imagine and through them into a massive wood chipper. That wood chipper rocket-launched every idea known to humankind and those seeds germinated EVERYWHERE.

That momentum - that exact practice - is pretty much how my brain operates on a regular basis. Everything, everywhere, at any given moment. It’s my style. And I’m grateful for that style because it’s led me to this exact moment. “You reap what you sow” and holy moly we SOWED. Our farm, The Raspberry Roost, is a corner of the world bursting with so much joy. Intentional, planted joy. Did you ever think you could find joy in a woodchipper?

So what did we sprout, you ask? We are home to a mixed-fibre animal operation ranging from sheep, alpacas to rabbits. We are home to a gorgeous herd of rescue horses. And as a “roost” as our name alludes, we are a roost to a flock of chickens, ducks and geese. I’ve tried my hand at growing flax and of course small garden items. So do you see what I mean? All the seeds EVERYWHERE? What can I say, we are growing a diverse garden - er, forest?? ecosystem??

I snicker to myself a little bit, fawning over this photo. These kids truly had no idea what they would create - I still can’t fully grasp what we have created, are creating, and will create. What is concrete for me? A concrete concept for me is that we moved here almost six years ago. That is a fact. Somehow describing that amount of time is difficult. Some days I could say so much about these six years and other days I could say so little.

We didn’t really know what we were getting into and for that I am thankful. If I had known too much, perhaps we would have never worked up the courage to plant the seeds. Maybe fear would have taken over. I’m grateful for the naivety that coursed through my veins. It led me to take risks and grow joy, especially in the places I didn’t expect.

So, here we are. Growing joy, at maybe an alarming rate, in unsuspecting places. But I think it is what we need. Unsuspecting, unabashed joy - even if that means accepting the woodchipper method.

One day I will write a more in-depth, “serious” post about the challenges with my wild-joy ways, but for now I’m soaking these moments in. I’m proud of us and what we have begun to create. We are farming for joy.