IMG_2538I always said I’d never marry a farmer or a pastor…   Not that I was being pursued heavily by farmers and pastors…  It was just something I said…

So I married a farmer… at age 20…  blindly in love and not really considering what skills might be needed for living on a farm…  although I didn’t have many skills for survival in urban settings either… thus me taking the advice of my dad and marrying…  so the farmer could take care of me and I could bless him with my presence.

Turns out that he wanted me to do a bit more than free load off of his hard farm work…  turns out I was being asked to go from never cooking to cooking for 10-12 men every other night.

Oh the early days… oh the tears…  oh the patience of the farmer watching the struggle…

Not only did I used to say that I’d never marry a farmer, I also claimed I’d never have children…  I wish I would have thrown out ‘I never want to be stunningly gorgeous’…

So along came three children…  turns out you can have them even though you’ve never changed a diaper in your life and you have no idea what you are doing.  That doesn’t mean you’ll be good at it…  you can just make them…  then they get to struggle and claw their way through existing in a home where the ‘mom’ had no idea how to be a mom.  Makes them strong – or an artist that is motivated by a poor upbringing.

So this blog… ‘I Feed a Farmer’…  it is dedicated to the farmer I feed, the food I make and the kid’s that critique the food.

I hope someday they enjoy looking back through the years of meals and remember the smell of dust in the air at harvest time and the smell of burning food in the house…  masked with the smell of bacon…