10 Years ago I convinced Sanford that we could earn income off the farm by growing raspsberries. This was a key factor in winning my husband's cooperation in making the farm our home. My dad let us plow up the hay field in preparation of planting a U-pick raspsberry patch. Sanford, Justin, Lynnea, and I planted a 1000 raspberry starts in the muddy spring before we bought the farm from my folksl. My dream of having a U-pick raspsberry farm has been a thorny experiment ever since.
This past Saturday, we accepted the help of two high schoolers from Ashland First Baptist Church to remove the irrigation lines and fence stacks from the weedy remains of what was once my cherished raspsberry patch. The hope of continuing this endevor actually died two years ago during the time of my father's passing, but I had realized the year before that it had very little chance of surviving as long as I and Sanford both worked other jobs.
I have now accepted the passing away of this dream. This Saturday was the burial, the putting to rest of that dream and the turning point to facing what lies ahead for Sanford and me. Thank you, Sanford, for risking this experiment and giving me 9 years of living on this 11 acres of rock and thistle I call home.
1 comment:
Oh, mother, that's sad. I remember all those hours spent on the Raspberry fields. I'm sad that nobody will want to take care of those beautiful raspberries in the future.
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