š The Why š
Not everything starts with a plan.
Some things start with a moment that sticks with youā¦ long after itās over.
š Where It Started
Story Time:
I was 12 years old when my dad took us back to his hometown to meet his childhood best friend, Steve, who owned a dairy farm.
At some point, Steve told us to hop in the back of a truckā¦ with a baby calf.
And like kids do, we listened. (It was the 90’s for real we listened)
The idea was simple. Sit back there with the calf and keep it calm.
Except that calf had other plans.
As soon as the truck started moving, it panicked. It jumped up, trying to get out, terrified and scrambling, and everyone around me started yelling to just let it go.
But I knew better.
If that calf made it out of that truck, it wasnāt just going to run off. It was going to get hurt. It might not make it at all.
So I didnāt let go.
I grabbed its legs, swept them out from under it, and forced it back down into the truck.
The calf made it to where it was going safely.
And something about that moment never left me.
Not because it was dramaticā¦
But because I understood something without anyone having to explain it.
Animals depend on you.
And when it matters, you step up.
š What It Looked Like Next…
Years later, when I was around 16, something else clicked.
My dad bought four acres, a two story houseā¦ and a tractor.
And for a while, we got a glimpse of that life.
We had chickens.
Black and white Polish, meat birds Cornish cross, some Rhode island reds, a barred rock or two.
Florida wild turkeysā¦ and whatever else he decided we were raising that week.
We planted a big garden. Green beans, tomatoes, squash, watermelon, cantaloupe, and some other stuff.
We worked the land.
It wasnāt perfect.
Predators were a problem, mostly wild dogs.
Free-ranging sounded greatā¦ until chickens were on top of cars, scratching paint and leaving messes everywhere.
You couldnāt walk across the yard without watching your step.
Thereās the version people pictureā¦
And then thereās the version you actually live.
We were living the real one.
But even with all of thatā¦
I remember my dad on that tractor.
When it broke, heād cuss at it, fix it, and the second it fired back up againā¦ heād do a little jig, climb back on, and keep going.
There was an old country song back then, āShe Thinks My Tractorās Sexy,ā and heād sing it while riding around like he didnāt have a care in the world.
Thatās one of my momās favorite memories tooā¦ even though she never planned on becoming a farmerās wife.
She was a city girl from California her dream was to stay far away from farm life.
š¾ What I Understand Now
Looking back, I understand something I didnāt fully see then.
My dad left that life when he was younger, thinking there was more out there.
And maybe there wasā¦ for a while.
But in the end, what he really wanted was to go back home.
And take his kids there with him.
He tried.
He bought land in his hometown. Tylertown, MS
He talked about putting a trailer on itā¦ maybe building a houseā¦ bringing all his kids back.
Starting over the right way.
And then he had a stroke.
And that version of the dreamā¦ never got the chance to happen.
Iād give anything to have that place back now.
Iād give anything to have that place back now.
Not because it was perfectā¦
But because it was becoming something.
Because my daddy loved it.
And somewhere along the wayā¦
it started to feel like something Iām supposed to finish.
š§ Why This Matters
So maybe thatās what this is.
Maybe this isnāt just about chickens.
Maybe Iām still trying to build something he didnāt get to finish.
Trying to take all those half-started projectsā¦ all those āalmostsāā¦ and turn them into something real.
I canāt imagine where I got that from…
Projects started, half done.
Dreams loved, then set aside for the next shiny thing.
Always trying to build something better for the people I love.
I donāt know if Iāll ever fully get there.
But I know I have to try.
š The Heart of It
This isnāt about being perfect.
Itās about:
Showing up
Learning as you go
Doing the work
Building something that matters
Even if it takes longer than you expected.
Because some dreams donāt go away.
They just wait for the right time to be picked back up.
š±
And this?
This is me picking it back up.