As far back as I can remember, I have dreamt about being a farmer...glamorized the thought, actually. The intoxicating scent of dirt in my hands, a wind-blown healthy glow on my face and fresh country air in my lungs were my passion of passions.
Had I had enough money or the smarts to land a full scholarship, I'd have chosen Cornell University, hands down, back in 1975 and majored in agriculture. I was lucky to walk the Cornell campus once. those beautiful ivy-covered buildings stood as a holy temple of all things good and wholesome, releasing class after graduating class of savvy farmers who not only held the knowledge to feed the world but executed it in Ivy league style.
I was inspired there. I felt whole there. I could be completely me there...YES!
Ummm....no.
It never happened. No money and even less brains squashed any hope. I settled on SUNY @Buffalo and graduated with a B.S. in Laboratory Science. Don't ask me why or how I got talked into my big sister's advice on a career choice, "just because you liked science."
Thirty-three years after getting sidetracked, I pulled my dream together and finally bought a small farm. I gardened for all those years, but it was nothing more than a glimpse of real life on the farm. Boy oh boy, have I gotten an education.
They call it, "The School of Hard Knocks."
Because I bought a place that had hundred blueberry bushes, I instantly became a blueberry farmer. Since then, I've learned a few things about blueberries and a lot about myself.
The journey has not been glamorous in the least, but my desire is more alive than ever.
I am inspired here. I feel whole here. I am completely me here. YES!
A few years into it, I retired my career in laboratory science and became a fulltime farmer. I still want it as much as I did all those years ago; maybe even more.
The intoxicating scent of dirt in my hands, a wind-blown healthy glow on my face and fresh country air in my lungs is real and no longer a dream.
It is my passion of passions.
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