I grew up in town, but spent every moment I could at my grandparent’s farm. It is an idyllic place with a creek, woods, and lush ground for growing the best vegetables and fruit. It’s far enough out to be really rural yet close enough to town to make trips for a civilization-fix feasible.

All of my life, I have known this place would always be my home even though my life took me to Colorado. I did my best to get my city-born-and-bred ex-husband to move back home to practice medicine, but Colorado boys don’t do humidity. So I changed my tact to become a Colorado farm girl. We bought a log house on two acres. I had a huge garden that froze the last week of June. The next year the deer lined up for the buffet so I decided Farmer’s Market was a lot less work. All the while, I started collecting the Foxfire Books and every issue of Mother Earth News. I baked my own bread, made yoghurt and tofu, and canned everything I could get my hands on. I entered fairs and won ribbons. I taught pie baking classes. I boarded horses. I cut, chopped, and hauled firewood. It was a pretty cool life.

Everything changed after baby #2 was born and my 16 year old started to drive. I was worried to death every time she went out on that narrow country road and after the umpteenth sleepless night, I convinced my husband to buy a big house near the hospital and high school. I may have killed two birds with one stone making the commutes of both my husband and daughter safer and more convenient, I killed that budding farm girl. Gone was the wood chopping and gardening. Eventually the canning and baking ceased. A flooded basement took away the last vestiges of hope when my entire collection of Mother Earth News was destroyed.

I was lost…a ship without a rudder. I had given up on my dream of having a farm. I was a city girl now. I had city girl things to do. I am one of the most flexible people you will ever know. I can bloom wherever I’m planted, but losing that dream changed something in me. It dulled my sparkle. And now, here I am on the cusp of the grandest adventure of all! Going home…home to the farm of my dreams, where my heart sings.

I sat in Starbucks yesterday while the house was being shown. On my lap, a copy of the latest issue of Hobby Farm Magazine with an excellent article about English Black Orpington chickens. Emotion welled up in me at the realization that I am making my dream a reality. I am doing that…it’s not being decided for me. No one is telling me I can’t do this. No one is saying “I don’t want to go.” I am making this happen because I know now. I understand. I get it. Life really IS short. But don’t let anyone ever tell you that you only get one shot at it. I’ve had several opportunities for do-overs. This time, I think I’m getting it right.