The enemy of good

My brother in law is here from Seattle for a visit. Notice I didn't say vacation, although I hear farmcations are the new spa experience. But anyway.... He likes to stay busy so he's been working my butt off. We've gotten things done I wouldn't have looked at doing until fall. But I'm happy the place is looking good and coming together and I am really glad he is here.

You know sometimes, even though I know it doesn't exist I want that farm with the red barn and picket fence, you know the one on the butter packages. a grazing cow on a beautiful green lush pasture, hens pecking around the back door. The sweet old pick-up truck in the driveway that runs. I imagine the people inside. The sparkling clean farm house with apple cinnamon aroma from the pie in the oven and the radio playing softly (something other than NPR I would guess). I wonder what Sunday's are like? What time do they go to bed? I mean there are no junk piles, heck looking close enough there isn't even a tractor or any tractor implements. Maybe there all put up neatly in the barn, yea that's it. Wait. There are no people on this farm. Maybe they are in the barn cleaning or maybe that is why this farm looks so perfect and quiet.

I realize for me, that farm is a state of mind. My farm will never look like the one painted on the wall of Reasors. And I really cant say I've been to a farm like that but I haven't been everywhere so maybe it does exist. But for me that perfect farm represents a place in my head where I want to be not necessarily physically but emotionally. That farm represents, peacefulness, calmness, organization, and possibly a little boredom. I crave that quiet calm place. But a real working farm is not quiet and calm at least if said farm has animals in the mix, so forget the nap Saturday after the market, its either the rooster or the kid goats. Or the dogs barking at a threatening shadow, either way this farm is alive in all senses of the word.

It gets overwhelming at times, the times I want my farm to be that painting. The day before yesterday a friend told me "don't let perfect be the enemy of good". I think I said that right, but it did resonate with me. I spend a lot of time trying to create this perfect scene, either with the animals or the fields only to be disappointed, because perfect is a painting designed to sell not designed to work. Slowly I'm making my peace with it. Really the most important thing to me is healthy, thriving animals and soil. everything else is just make up, eyeliner and lipstick, and when this farm wakes up in the morning it still looks good. Just messy sometimes. and even that can be charming.

Monday, I took six lambs to the processor. I loaded them up, drove them to Big Cabin (4 states meat processor) Looked into their eyes, and unloaded them. They've had a good life intended for this day. It was a hard reality to swallow. I had a lump in my throat the size of a melon, and again I wondered if I might consider becoming vegetarian. That's got to be another post, but this is the relation ship I have with my food. Its based on honesty. Its based on truth. Its not centered on illusion and secrecy or sweet safe ignorance from the painting on the walls of grocery stores and bill boards, even though at times it is so tempting.