This is an old picture of Gregg and me. But he's got his beard going for the winter, so I feel like its appropriate.

My husband, Gregg, wants to be a farmer.  About three years ago he worked on a sweet potato farm in Machipongo, VA.  We started dating during his two month stint on the farm.  After he finished his time on the farm, he was offered a job to stay on as a permanent employee.  He turned the job down to move to San Francisco (where I was living at the time) to date me.  He’s had odd jobs throughout our time in SF and in Knoxville.  He keeps coming back to farming.  He wants to farm in Knoxville, but starting one from scratch both on his own or with a friend has proved to be too risky and too difficult.  After coming to this conclusion, we recalled the sweet potato farm job offer.  We wondered if that would still be available to him.  Gregg called the farmer who said over the phone that he did, in fact, have an opportunity for Gregg.  At first, during our conversations, moving to Virginia to farm was Plan B.  But, as less and less opportunities arose for him in Knoxville, it became Plan A.  As a nurse/newly turned nurse practitioner as of August 2011, I am flexible in the job department.  I was on board if this was what he wanted to do.

What I like about Gregg as a farmer:

1. The food.  Gregg has completely changed the way that I think about food.  I enjoy it now.  Not as much as he does, but I appreciate a good meal so much more now than I did before I knew him.

2. The organic movement.  It finally hit me yesterday that I want to be a part of this movement.  The sweet potato farm has been a part of the movement for thirty or so years before everyone else was wanting local, sustainable, organic, free-range, grass-fed, hormone-free, pesticide-free food.  I realized yesterday that all of the aforementioned words describe how we have been created to eat.  Yes, its trendy and more expensive, but I decided that I cannot eat any more chicken meat that turns to mush in my hands.

3. Learning to trust.  Being a farmer is certainly not the easy road, or so I’ve heard.  Becoming a farmer has not been easy either.  But I’m learning to trust Gregg and his dreams for our family.  I’m learning to trust during the transition, which has not been easy.  I know that it has been good for me and for us.  I’m sure that there will be more of this learning to trust thing in our future.

4. Farmer=Businessman (the good kind).  Confession:  I’m an eavesdropper.  The other day, I was trying not to eavesdrop on Gregg as he was talking to his boss-to-be, but I couldn’t help it.  Eavesdropping is an instinct of mine that I cannot avoid.  But!  What I eavesdropped (not sure if that’s a word) was worth celebrating.  Gregg was becoming a businessman right before my ears.  Not a suit and tie wearing, bossypants businessman, but a taking initiative, talking straight, and still being a good person businessman.

Farming, here we come.

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