The Flame

Every ending has a beginning as does every middle.  All projects start with a spark and many are never tended into a flame.  Dying embers flit away and in wisps of smoke. The spoken "tell me the story about when..." can be followed by eruptions of laughter and wet sobbing tears.  This is the story of our living flame Vespertine Gardens.

My husband and I met at a bar.  We were set up by mutual friends and it was love at first sight for me.  I knew quickly that he was "the one" and it didn't take much convincing before he agreed.  He was fresh off the Appalachian Trail, living in Oregon but visiting family in town and I was in the midst of single parenting while working and going to school full-time for nursing.  Our lives were both in chaos but the spark never left.  He returned a year later to be closer to his mother who was diagnosed with lung cancer and took up soil science studies at UWSP.  We reconnected and our relationship moved quickly.  Much of our time dating was spent dreaming, of our future and telling stories of our past.  The ember glowed bigger and bigger until it was a farm we were dreaming of and then a farm with children.  Our farm setting idea took place initially anywhere but Wisconsin and quickly came closer and closer until we were looking at land in our home county.
We found the perfect place.  Seriously, it doesn't get any more perfect for us than a farm surrounded by forest with a geodesic dome heated garage with a wood working shop, unique outbuildings made from Katrina wreckage and a solid wood beamed barn fit perfectly for horses.  It was like we each wrote down exactly what we wanted and poof, there it appeared.  At the peak of our price range but move-in ready.

Quickly, we rented out our current small in town home and moved in temporarily with Craig's parents thinking it would be a quick sale and we'd be celebrating Christmas in our new home.  The final step was the inspection which was a breeze initially.  The inspector actually looked like he was yawning at times, bored with the absence of drama.  It was so mundane that I left before it was over-missing the big bang: black mold.  The entire attic was snuggled beneath fuzzy blanket of black mold.  Interestingly the owners were moving south due to respiratory issues.  We could go through with the sale and deal with the mold aka: health hazard nightmare or we could move on with our dream.

Cue "everything happens for a reason".
In the midst of this, my mother-in-law Lynne's long battle with stage 4 lung cancer was coming to a close.  It was clear that her body was losing the fight and our focus shifted entirely from the home plans to being home with her as much as possible for her numbered last days.  I was working full time as a hospice nurse at the time and it was such a surreal time in my life to go from "working with death" to living with it.  We ate meals together, did our laundry together and played with my sons together.  She gave me lessons in sewing and baking and how to just be good with it all.  It was an absolutely amazing time in my life.  We made some of my most favorite memories and we were all there with her as her spirit slipped away.  She died a good death.  Surrounded by those who loved her and were loved by her the most.  We are walking family trees and her cells live on in my youngest son and daughter.
We know that we were meant to be living with her for those handful of months.  We wouldn't trade any dream property for those memories we made.  As the healing began and the dust started to settle, the ember of our farming dream stoked again only this time it had ideas of its own.  In her last days, Lynne and her parents spoke to us about living on the homestead where she grew up and bringing the land back to farming.  It was her wish that we would raise our children and erect our farming dream there on a small patch of fertile vesper silt loam soil.

the soil quickly became a part of us

I remember driving to the property for the first time after the opportunity was presented to us and having a hard time envisioning how we would turn 3 acres of pristine lawn into a visionary, functioning farm.  The farm had historically raised 7 daughters and tons of green beans as well as a bustling family garden.  It took, vision, perseverance, hard labor and help from family and friends for a handful of years to get the soil working and producing. I worked full time off the farm so Craig could work full time on the farm and every penny earned was spent on implements and such.  We named our farm Vespertine Gardens and now 6 years later we have completed 5 successful years as CSA farmers of organically grown veggies and pastured non-GMO chickens.  Vespertine means "things that bloom at night" and our dreams of this farm all started with just that-night time dreaming together while young in our relationship with little ones finally asleep.   Our daughter Aida was born on the living room floor a few short months after moving here.  She solidified any doubt we ever had that we were meant to be here on this land, living this life.  The flame of our farming existence is burning bright and we are devoting ourselves to a winter of rekindled dreaming.