Aug. 29 marks the third wedding anniversary for my husband and I.
For some, that may not sound like much, but to me, the growing number is something to celebrate. An anniversary is a time to reflect on the past years, and as I take a look back at our last three years I find joy in every memory we have together, regardless of how we felt about it at the time.
One of those memories occurred not so long after we were married. My husband and I were doing the supper dishes by hand in the old farmhouse we rented. (I personally despised doing dishes by hand, but naturally the farmhouse didn’t have a dishwasher, so we had to do, what we had to do.)
My husband washed them, and I dried them and put them away. As we did our chore in silence, my mind was racing with the idea that maybe doing dishes wasn’t so bad when we could do them together; and maybe a lot of things would be better if we could do them together; and what better way to be together all the time than if we farmed; because if he farmed he would be home every single night, and I’d never have to do the dishes alone ever again.
All of the sudden my inner dialog became verbal, and I broke our silence with “So, I think we should farm.”
I’m fairly certain his jaw dropped and a blank stare ensued as he tried to process how the girl who told him, “I’ll never farm,” was all of the sudden saying, “Lets farm.”
I don’t recall much about the moments that followed, but I do know that over the next year we moved a mobile home onto my in-law’s land, bought cows, and by our first anniversary we were farmers.
Our first year was such a thrill of changes, and for a girl who loves change, it was pretty much the best year ever.
Year two, however, was perhaps a little more challenging than the first. Not only for us, but for the whole farm, since everyone would have to learn how to put up with the nutty daughter-in-law who was always asking questions about whatever they may be doing.
Everyone learned a lot that year. My in-laws learned to be patient with me, since my eager-to-learn attitude would have me attached to their hips for the better part of the year.
And together my husband and I learned to be patient with the year itself, as we waited anxiously for our first calf crop to be ready to sell. When the time came to finally sell our calves, our emotions were a mix of anticipation, joy, and horrendous nerves.
We had waited a whole year for this moment, and the fifteen minutes our calves would spend in the auction ring would determine what our next twelve months of marriage would be like. The sale must have gone well, because we were crazy enough to do it all over again, and we headed into year three.
I think it’s safe to say we’re finally settled into this whole farming thing. My in-laws are accustomed to my enthusiasm on the farm, and my husband and I are looking forward to our future in agriculture.
We are beyond thankful to have this opportunity to farm, and most of all, I’m thankful for our anniversary, which reminds us each year that regardless of what we face, we can get through it all so long as we’re together.