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I’ve always wanted to be a farmer. Really. I have. Sometimes I will google things like “farm fiction” or “chicken coop designs” or “worm composting”, just for the heck of it. I love to grow things. My grandmother had a major green thumb, in fact, her plants were sort of taking over her house, and I inherited it.

Not the plant coup. The thumb.

The sad thing is I didn’t know this about myself until I was in my late 20’s and she had passed away.

I’ve always loved animals. I have three dogs, three cats, nine chickens, and a guinea pig. But I want a small pig. A goat would be cool. All the goat cheese you could ever want… I’d love to have a couple sheep one day, so I could spin my own wool. A cow, for raw dairy and beef. Some alpaca, perhaps.  I’d love to keep bees and have my own raw honey. And I’m adventurous and like to take on new challenges. So.

I always said that one day I’d have land. A few acres to tinker around on and grow food and plant an orchard and have animals.

And now it has happened.

Somebody pinch me!

No, wait. Don’t. Let this dream go on forever…

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