The large book I have on natural insect and disease control says that one should plant their pumpkins as far as they can away from last year’s crop to prevent squash bugs. We thought twenty-five miles would do it. Nope. It is rather difficult to have a farm named Pumpkin Hollow Farm whilst battling these invaders.

Two weeks ago we had a great hail storm. Really a doozy.

Followed by a huge rain storm, flood, and mud slide. It was really something.

And something ate the beans.

Farming. Not for the weak of heart.

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Now, I want you to forget all those pretty, glossy pictures in the magazines. They are like social media, carefully staged and edited to look a certain way. A real farm is messy. With a bit of trash blowing around (cause it’s always windy). And squash bugs, weeds, and ducks who eat house plants left on the patio.

It is easy to focus on the negative. Where did all the cabbage seeds I planted go?…for crying out loud. It can get frustrating. Where the heck did I put that wine? It can be scary. What color would you say that cloud is? But through it all, it is miraculous. Always focus on the positive.

A restaurant wants to buy my lettuce. My friends are getting their fill of fresh, delicious eggs. I counted fifty thriving corn stalks in just one row. The birds are taking out grasshoppers. Forty-five tomato plants were found under all the mud and debris after the storm and they are thriving. The amaranth grew an inch overnight. The potatoes are busy underground and the corn will surely be knee high by fourth of July (a saying we hold to dearly around here). We are planning out our greenhouse and vineyard for next year. And best of all, we live on a farm!

I need more help around here to keep this farm going. That is a good thing. That means things are growing. The weeds are pretty high but at least they are green (rain in the desert, woohoo!). I am getting fabulously strong and tan and we are eating the best lettuce and a few peas out of the garden. After our several mile walk around our country town each evening, we water by hand. Doug takes the front gardens, I take the back, and an hour later we meet on the porch to laugh at the ducks and baby chickens and eat ice cream as the sun colorfully sets behind the mountains beyond our little farm.