They Started It

 These two actually started it. These are my folks. In the early 70's, with two littles in tow, they moved to Vashon Island. I think it would be fair to say that they didn't know what they were getting into but, where there is a will there is a way.

A 1902 farmhouse sinking into the ground, no running water, one bathroom with a tub that drained through a hole in the floor to the outside, 13 acres of unkempt fruit and nut trees. Blackberry vines threatening every fence line. The list goes on. But, they did it. They grew (literally) a successful organic vegetable business which morphed into a cut flower business. There were sheep, pigs, turkeys, geese, ducks and, of course, chickens along the way. I even got a pony.

It was hard work. I watched my mom work her day job, the one that actually produced a paycheck, and then come home and dive right into farm life. Not to mention her sheep, wool and yarn side hustle. 

As I saw it, my brother and I were the labor force. Summer days were spent ticking off a very long, hand written note of chores my dad left us before he and his load of flowers headed off to the city. It wasn't "normal" chores like taking out the trash or mowing the yard. It was weeding five, hundred foot long rows of plants that looked like weeds. It was shoveling the sheep barn. It was watering the vineyard, one grapevine at a time. Etcetera. When all of us worked together, the chores didn't end until it was too dark to see what you were doing.

My dad, it seemed, had a vision. It was mysterious to me but, over time, the whole thing came together.

For the past three decades I've been living my dream. I married my soulmate. We created a beautiful home in the city with just enough yard to keep my thumb green. We've raised two smart, well adjusted, independent and funny boys (in my opinion). I've had a long and fulfilling career in the fashion industry. I could go on and on. 

Something has shifted.

The desire to live a simpler life, a sustainable life. Less consuming and more creating. Slower. More thoughtful.

Thank you, Mom and Pop, for planting that tiny seed somewhere in me. I think it's time. 

Actually, I don't think. I know.