As we near the new year, we begin to see a lot of reflection about the past year.  Sometimes, it’s filled with joy, sometimes with heartbreak, and sometimes both.  Like every season finale, our reflections are filled with gratitude, but this year’s gratitude is enhanced because we are so entirely grateful that you stuck with us through what was arguably a terrible year for a farm.  We began with drought (hard to remember now,  but we began the year with zero rain for months and a lot of scrambling to keep all the crops watered), lost an entire crop of tomatoes peak season with the power failure, and ended with the epic floods of Hurricane Helene.  Through all of that, you stuck with us, offered encouragement and help, and kept us going when we were sorely tempted to give up.  Thank you. Thank you.  Thank you.  We could not do this without you

​The deep comfort of routine seeps back into my bones.  If you don’t break it sometimes, the routine can feel monotonous.  But absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say, and this is most true when it comes to steady beat of routine.  Alarm goes off, dress and head to the gym for “routine maintenance”-a routine within the routine.  Scarf down some yogurt and fruit, and work begins.  Monday work is Monday work, Tuesday work is Tuesday work, ad infinitum.  Boy did I miss ad infinitum.
 
It will get old, hopefully, before the next break in it.  And then, the return to it will again flood my veins with comfort as we settle back in, this time for the long haul that is a main growing season.  It’s one of the things I’ve always loved about farming-the seasonality of it. The winter, the cold, the short days and long angles light-that’s when the breaks happen.  We settle in, then break out, then settle in, then break out.  We interrupt ourselves with visits to family, we open our eyes to far flung places, we attack the “to-be-read” pile.  And in between, we inject ourselves with the warmth of habit.