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May 29th…

I haven’t written much this month. May is not one of my favorite months. Although I love springtime at the farm, it tends to be emotionally draining for me and my family (I think I drain them…). You see, my youngest son, Jeremy died on May 29th, 2020. It’s been six years and I still have a hard time with every anniversary. I miss him every day, but the 29th is the most difficult of all.

You would think I’d be better at figuring out why I’m suddenly distracted with day-to-day work, forgetful (more than usual…), and feeling overwhelmed. It’s usually the week before the 29th that the light bulb comes on and I have to go and make amends to those I’ve been short with. Fortunately, I have some wonderful people in my life who understand I’m why I’m not handling everyday interactions very well, showing me much more grace than I feel I deserve.

One thing I’ve learned over the last six years is that grief has no expiration date. Well meaning friends have given me the space to grieve but they don’t always understand why the feelings are so strong after six years. They don’t come right out and say it, but it often feels like they think I should be “over it” by now. Grief has a way of distorting reality. I’m sure no one (well, at least most people) really thinks ill of my grief. I often must remind myself that feelings are not facts.

Last year I started writing a collection of stories about Jeremy and I. I’ve shared the first couple of them with my friends and readers. The others have been slow in coming. Writing time is a prized possession around here. My wife, my home, and the farm fill my cup to overflowing, leaving little room for the reflection honest storytelling requires, especially when it comes to being honest about my own demons and an often turbulent, yet tight, relationship with my son. They’ve been full of ups and downs, joy and despair, but I hope to share more of those stories as the coming year allows.

Just for today, I’ll let the feelings come. I’ve been told that grief becomes easier to bear as time goes by. I’m not sure it gets easier, but I know it gets different. I’m often reminded of all the joy Jeremy brought into the world – my world – but there’s always a deep sense of loss underneath the surface. Maybe that’s a good thing. It’s also a reminder that I get to honor Jeremy and the God who loves me by how I celebrate each day through my family and my work. Moreover, I’m constantly reminded that the loss is only temporary in the grand scheme of things – that one day we’ll all be together again in a world free of the tears that this world so often has.

So folks, if I’m a bit melancholy and irritable today, please allow me my feelings and know it’s a hard day for me. Maybe if we could all remember that everyone has difficulties in life we may not see, we could all be a little more patient and loving towards others. That would sure make living easier for all of us. Please remember too, that sometimes the greatest gift one can give to a grieving person is their simple, silent presence. There are no words of comfort, only the reminder that we are loved.

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Footwork

It’s been a long week at Opal’s Farm. The Trinity River Water District had to drop the water level in our section of the river so they could work on the dams above and below where the farm is. The sudden drop left our irrigation pump several feet out of the river and no access for our reserve high pressure pump. It’s a problem I’ve never encountered before – no water and new seed in the field.

I’ve often told people that farmers are among the smartest, most resourceful people I know. The farm offers new challenges on a regular basis that require thinking “out of the box”. Now I won’t claim above-average smarts, but I decided to haul water in fifty-gallon barrels and hand water all the new seeds every day. Lo and behold, seedlings are popping up in the new beds and rain finally came yesterday. In fact, Fort Worth set a record for the daily rainfall amount. I feel bad for those who had outdoor plans for Valentine’s Day, but God gave me the greatest Valentine’s Day gift I ever received (said with a sigh of relief!).

Hauling water and watering by the bucket is tedious, tiring, but necessary work. It was a reminder of the importance of patience, of doing the needed footwork, and trust that God will provide. I’m responsible for putting one foot in front of the other, God takes care of the results. Life is so much easier when I simply do the work and leave the results to the God of my understanding.

The time is always now for right action, for doing the footwork to make the farm, and my world, a better place. Sometimes it’s tedious, tiring, even depressing. It seems like it’s never enough, but eventually the seeds, whether they be fresh veggies or changing my community for the better, sprout and grow. The farm reminds me of the importance of being God’s hands and feet right here, right now. It’s like the Zen saying, “Chop wood, carry water”…

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Ahh, February

It’s finally February. It usually isn’t my favorite month because, though it’s the shortest month, it usually feels like the longest. That’s not the case this year. January seemed like it would never end – the constant barrage of bad news wore me down. It started with military intervention in Venezuela, the alienation of our allies and friends (we’re not all crazy Greenland), and ended with two murders of US citizens by our own government. Come on, February. Maybe being the shortest month means less assaults on our collective souls. One can only hope…

Photo by Steve Wrzeszczynski on Unsplash

Tomorrow, the second of February, is Groundhog Day. Personally, I always get confused as to why a small, adorable rodent has so much power of weather forecasting based on whether he sees his shadow or not. I do, however, find the movie “Groundhog Day” one of my favorite films of all time. The idea that one gets “do-overs” until they get it right sums up what grace has come to mean in my life. I don’t get to go back and change the past, but I do have the opportunity every day to create a better me. That’s all because of grace.

I’d always heard that term “grace” growing up, but in a fundamentalist Christian home it tended to be more an abstract spiritual ideal rather than a physical reality. One could always “fall from grace”. God was kind of fickle, judgmental, and got pissed off easy, you know, and I was spiritually clumsy, falling a lot! After a while, I’d fallen so many times that I just decided to stay down and wallowed there for many years.

I won’t bore you with the details, but to suffice it to say that I found myself in rehabs and twelve-step programs many times over the years. It wasn’t until one day in December 2005 that I finally said, “God help me” and really meant it. I simply gave it all to him. I surrendered and really didn’t care what he did with me. Even death was preferable to the existence I was living.

To make a long story short…

That was my “Groundhog Day”. I didn’t get “do-overs”, but I did get to go back to those I had harmed and make amends – make things right to the best of my ability and live differently. In fact, every day since then has been Groundhog Day. I wake up each morning with the opportunity to make the future better for me and my community. It’s all because of grace – grace that’s real, not an abstract theological term. I guess in that sense it is a “do over” because I start each day with a clean slate. I can let go of a past full of doubt and live securely in the day I’ve been given.

I’m not perfect by any means. I try to walk in faith, loving God, and “loving my neighbor as myself. Thank God for grace and another Groundhog Day…

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Baby, It’s Cold Outside

It’s January in Texas. I was wearing shorts and a T-shirt two days ago. Today I’m sitting here at the desk watching snow falling with wind chills in the teens. It looks like it may stick around for the next couple of days so I’m taking advantage of the weather to enjoy the comfort of my office and get caught up on stuff at home.

I covered everything at Opal’s Farm with frost cloth and mulch in preparation for this weekend. It rained all day Friday which is was needed for the crops during this cold snap. Still, the weather folks are saying we’ll have eighty-six hours of below freezing temperatures. Now I wait. It’s always unnerving to wait for hard freezes like this to end. I join all area farmers in saying lots of prayers and hoping I don’t lose everything. Such is the nature of farming, whether urban or rural.

One cannot be a control freak and be comfortable farming. Some things are simply beyond my control – it’s too hot or too cold, too wet or too dry – I can’t control the weather. In fact, I came to the farm one day last week and my pump wouldn’t work. After checking all the possible (and solvable) mechanical problems, I walked down to the river to find that it had dropped several feet almost overnight. My pump was three feet out of the water. I have no idea how that happened. That’s a new one for me. At least it’s usually new problems to deal with. That’s one of the joys (or curses) of farming. No two days are alike. You won’t get bored!

Photo by Erik Mclean on Pexels.com

Farming has taught me the real value of the Serenity Prayer, “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” Acceptance comes easier these days. There are some things I can’t do anything about. They simply are what they are. Acceptance surrenders the results and trusts the process before me. My friend Jim always told me to chop wood and let the chips fall where they may.

There are things I can do to mitigate some of damages caused by the things beyond my control, but quite honestly, some days can be rough: drought, pest pressure, equipment problems, funding issues – they can feel overwhelming. It takes courage to face things head on despite the uncertainties of the desired outcome. Courage is also about patience and perseverance. Sometimes it’s as simple as showing up for one more hour, or one more day despite fear, frustrations, and feeling defeated. I’ve was always told that ninety-five percent of life is just showing up. Sometimes it takes great courage to just do simple things…

“Wisdom to know the difference.” I can’t (and won’t) lay claim to being wise, but I am better at seeing what’s important, what I can change. I still run into walls, just not as often. Choices have become a tad easier to make with some success – not just at the farm but at home and in the community. Progress, not perfection I’ve always been told. Letting go of perfection and desired outcomes has freed me of the shackles of always having to be right. It’s allowed me to use the most freeing words in the English language – “I don’t know”. When I don’t have the answers, I have community, with you all and with my Creator.

If I’m really honest, it’s hard to be inside for two or three days straight. I miss being at the farm. I wonder how we’ve survived yesterday knowing that the worst of the cold is yet to come, but I’m grateful for the rest and the time with my wife. I pray that you all are doing well – the power’s still om, the home fires burn brightly, and you don’t have to get out on the roads. Enjoy the break. I will too…

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Burrrr…

The scene beyond my window is rather drab. A blast of cold Arctic air exploded across North Texas yesterday afternoon. It brought with it the cutting icy North wind that plagues the Southern plains every winter. The “feels like” temperatures this morning were in the single digits and they’re predicting eighty-plus hours below freezing and sleet for this evening. Folks in these parts are understandably nervous. Ice brings out the worst in Texas drivers and the memory of Winter Storm Uri in 2021 is still fresh to anyone who lived here then. The power grid crashed, Texans went for days without power and water, and 246 people died from storm-related issues.

Last year saw a major ice storm at the end of January. We were at the Texas Organic Farmers and Gardeners Association Conference in Dallas and left early because of the roads. One of our employees ended up staying at the motel that night. One night turned into a week. Texans do not do well in cold weather. It doesn’t storm often but when it does look out!

Fortunately, we’ve had ample time to prepare for this Arctic visitor. Store shelves are empty of non-perishables and bottled water. Gas tanks are full and homes lucky enough to have a generator are standing by. People take the weather forecast a bit more seriously since the winter of ’21.

( Opal’s Farm and the frozen Trinity River February 2021 )

Personally, I haven’t had much time to prepare our house. I still must make a run to Home Depot. My neighbor said they had some outdoor faucet covers hidden in the back of the store. Information like that is like finding gold. We try to take care of each other in our neighborhood. I have, however, taken steps to prepare Opal’s Farm the best we can to save our winter crops. Frost cloth has been double-spread on the bio-intensive section and several of the hundred-foot rows. Prayers have been said, fingers have been crossed, and if I had a rabbit’s foot, I’m sure I’d be holding it close. We’ll keep you posted…

On a lighter, and somewhat warmer note (it was cool but warmer yesterday), we moved Opal’s Farm Stand hours to Saturday afternoons from 1:30 PM to 4:00 PM. We found his to be more convenient for our neighbors and the traffic on Sylvania isn’t rushing between jobs. We had several customers yesterday afternoon. This complements our mornings at Cowtown Farmers Market and our delivery for Hao’s Grocery and Café. We can harvest once a week to bring quality fresh produce to our community.

Anyway…

My fur-babies don’t seem to be bothered by the single-digit temperatures. They are out running around and playing as I sit here. Sitting here watching them got me to thinking about this blog. I’ve always called it “Thoughts From the Porch” because that was the place my thoughts and coffee ran freely since this journey began. I no longer spend my mornings on the front porch. It’s not because it’s cold. When you smoke it really doesn’t matter if it’s the summer Texas heat or the winter freeze, you’re driven to suffer outside.

However, that changed on November 1st of last year. That’s the day I quit smoking. I’ve been cigarette-less since then. The cravings have become less severe most of the time. The operative word being “most”. Other days – not so much. Staying off the porch has been a good move so here I sit. I still get a good view of the world through the patio door next to my office. It’s a constant reminder of God’s goodness and grace in our lives.

Maybe it’s time to find another name for this? Let me know your thoughts!

Please stay warm and safe through this cold snap. Stay inside, make it a family day or a day of introspection. Enjoy the time and pray the lights don’t go out…