Every year, in about February, I wake up in the middle of the night and start frantically crunching numbers. It’s usually around this time that we have hired a big crew for the season and the credit card bill with all the seed purchases and supplies arrives. UPS is at the door everyday, which is nice because besides him, we don’t get many visitors in the winter. I start to stress out about the business. Being a small business owner is, at times, a major roller coaster. Will anyone sign up for a CSA share? Is our summer farm camp still fun? Are our flower designs unique, lush, inviting? Will our seeds even germinate?
I think all small businesses dance the tango with cash flow. But then there is the flexibility of being a small business owner that I’d never have if I gave it up. And, we’ve worked so hard to create this business, this empire of sorts. How could I possibly let it go?
After I crunch the numbers, I usually embark on a job search, thinking a steady paycheck is what I need. Forget this farming thing. Forget being a small business owner. ...my nurse midwifery degree,my fall-back: Google “midwifery jobs”.
Luckily, as my family regularly reminds me, I’m not handicapped by perfection.I just need enough to get by. After a long, dark night, I wake up after only a few hours of sleep. My period has started. I come down to breakfast and John serves up the most delicious plate of fresh farm eggs and bacon with a big cup of coffee topped off with thick cow cream. I tell him about my sleepless night, my stressful state. And then I tell him about the my dream from the night... where I thought I was going through menopause only to realize that in fact we were actually pregnant again. This would make all of our children 10 years apart, giving me a hearty 30 years of active mothering. Needless to say, I was panicking.
Alas, the voice of a sound business partner, a sound life partner comes along to settle all that. He gently ushers me into the day, reminds me of all the goodness that is our life, our business, our family. He reminds me that the hard work and anxiety are balanced by flexibility and control.
We work together, live together, love one another every day. We eat all our meals together and lay our heads down to rest together and we soak in the hot tub together. It is, by all accounts, exactly what I want and what I have worked for. I appreciate the reminder, the settling moment, the focus on setting my compass to true north. We regularly trade whose losing it. Each of us in turn, tucking aside their own stuff to make room for the one with the issue at hand. This patience, it brings us closer and raises us up. He reminds me why we left steady jobs for this farming gig, to eat well, work hard and have plenty of time to be together.
(This is all far more personal than the 4 other blog post drafts I wrote and tossed aside. I guess, all those loving comments on Monday made me sweet on y’all. I feel so welcomed and after a long winter, that is just what I needed. Thank you.)
I abandoned the off farm job search after that sleepless night. And, the presence of my menstrual cycle, which I assume to be numbered, clarified I’m not, indeed, pregnant. We fired up the wood boiler to heat the greenhouse, filled some trays with soil and seeds and away went the season. Off on another turn of the sun, our years marked by the inaugural load of wood into the wood boiler for the first time each March. Once those seeds sprout, its like magic.The whole thing, once again, feels hopeful.
-Stacy