I’ve Waited Forty Years for This

I had a great childhood, growing up in rural Vermont. Afternoons were spent outdoors making forts in the woods and taking strolls or riding my bike down endless dirt paths through the countryside. My favorite outdoor activity, though, was visiting my neighbor Floyd’s farm. Floyd was a lovely elderly gentleman who frequently allowed me to visit his property after school. Each day when I got home, I couldn’t wait to drop my backpack at the door and run out of the house to where the fields were calling my name. The farm had beautiful rolling fields, an old, worn-down wooden barn, a pond full of ducks and frogs, and a quaint white farmhouse on a hill. I spent many hours lying in Floyd’s fields looking up at the clouds, listening to the birds, and pretending to be an adventurer in a far-off land. I was always respectful and left the land as I had found it, which is why I think Floyd didn’t mind that I visited so often.

Even at an early age, I loved animals and nature, and being on the farm made me feel deeply connected to them. Eventually, I would leave Floyd’s farm when it started to get dark and head back home, promising to return soon. And while I reluctantly walked home, I looked out at the acres of grass blowing in the breeze, and I promised myself that someday I’d have a farm just like Floyd’s. That was forty years ago.

Over those forty years, life marched on. I met and fell in love with my high school sweetheart, and after college, we got married. We got our first pets and eventually our first home, which wasn’t on a farm but was what we could afford, and a few years later, we became parents to our son. We made a beautiful life. Still, in the back of my mind, a longing remained. A distant memory of a promise I made and a dream I’d dreamt. In all those years of living in a suburban neighborhood while raising our son, I longed for the rural country of my childhood and the peace and connection it offered. I did my best to recreate those feelings at our home, planting gardens and starting a micro flower farm, but I still longed for those rolling hills and peaceful seclusion that I’d always dreamed of. I still wanted a farm of my own.

My husband, too, had fond childhood memories of visiting his grandmother’s farm property every summer. It was always a happy place for him, just as Floyd’s was for me. So, years ago, my husband and I started looking for a farm property to call our own. It wasn’t an easy task, as we were looking for what we called a unicorn: A farm that was relatively close to a town for easy access to essentials, one that included open acres of land for growing (we were hoping not to clear trees), and that included a farmhouse for living, and all of this had to be within our budget. After living in a suburban neighborhood for twenty-three years, we yearned for more privacy, so our unicorn needed to offer a more secluded location. And, while not a deal-breaker, I really had my heart set on a farm with a pond.

We visited dozens of properties over the years, but either the property didn’t feel right, or we would put in an offer only to be outbid and left heartbroken. Honestly, I was starting to feel like our dream would never come true. But I didn’t want to give up. My husband and I had a good feeling about 2026, and in January I tried to manifest the dream into reality by making it one of my Garden Goals for the year. Well, I guess the universe was listening, because in May, we found our unicorn, and this time we weren’t outbid. I’m so excited to share that in June we closed on our dream property and, literally, bought the farm!

Our new farm is a 22-acre mix of woods and open rolling meadows, and yes, to the glee of my inner child, there is a pond with frogs, geese, and turtles. There is also a quintessential 19th-century white farmhouse on a hill in the middle of the property. Floyd would be smiling.

Our unicorn does need some work. The 150-year-old farmhouse was last renovated in the 1970s, and the shag carpeting, Formica countertops, and wood paneling are also nostalgic to my childhood. However, since I don’t wish to relive the disco era, the house will undergo a complete renovation, inside and out, bringing her into the 21st century while preserving her charm and character.  This project will be all-consuming and will most likely take us at least a year to complete. But we know it will be worth all the blood, sweat, and tears it will take to make our dream home a reality.

This property will eventually become the new home of Whistling Bee Farm. Going from our current micro farm, sitting on just under half an acre, to stewarding twenty-two acres will be a huge change.  Our focus (and finances!) over the next year will be on renovating the farmhouse so we can move in permanently. Unfortunately, that means the cut-flower business will be put on hold. I need time to observe the land, see where the sun and shade fall, where the wind blows strongest, and where best to situate the cut-flower beds. Fencing will need to be installed, beds will need to be created, soil will need to be amended, irrigation will need to be laid, and eventually, plants will need to be planted. We will essentially be starting over, which is both daunting and exciting. This process will take time, and I know it will be difficult to be patient. But I don’t want to rush it. I’ve waited forty years to have a farm property of my own, and I want to get to know the land before I start farming it. I want to be respectful and build a relationship with this land, just as I did all those years ago. Becoming a steward of this property is a dream come true and a responsibility I don’t take lightly. I’m looking forward to maintaining and creating habitat for the local wildlife and pollinator populations, creating a natural sanctuary for them and our family.

So, I’m here to tell you that you should never give up on your dreams, even if they take you forty years to fulfill. It will be oh so worth it in the end. I’ve had a permanent smile on my face since we were handed the keys to our new home, and I can’t wait to start this next chapter in our lives. Yes, Floyd, I did it. Thank you for allowing me to romp in your farm fields all those years ago. Now, I’m finally romping through fields of my own. And I can’t wait to see them blooming!