A Story To Tell

My father used to hang onto the straps in the subways of New York. He commuted most days of his life on the Long Island Railroad and then the subways to Wall Street. I know how it was because I did the same thing for a while as well. Above our heads, on banners, were ads for cigarettes, mouthwashes, whatever.Very often they used some bucolic scene with distant snow covered mountains and fresh clean pine woods on pristine glistening lakes. Far from the smells and sounds of a New York subway, it gave him peace in his mind for a little while. He told me that he would pretend to be in a boat in that lake, or sitting on a rock looking out at the mountains. I, of course, pretended to be riding the horse in the cigarette ads.

I don't take for granted one minute of living where I do. It is because of my family that I came to love Maine. It is because of my father, with his love of nature and my mother, with her love of gardening.
When I first saw this farm, I was desperate to live here and take care of it. I rented it for very little money from a man who was thinking of burning it down as a firefighter exercise. I begged him not to do that and he finally agreed. I always remember him asking me, "How much courage do you have?'

We needed a lot. Through the years we have replaced almost every part of this house. The field grew right up to the door, there was no heat, no water, broken windows, falling down porches and ......I loved it. We were lucky enough to buy this farm about 11 years ago. Shortly after that we opened the nursery here at Blackrock.

This farm has a story to tell. I hope that you will follow along a bit through this blog. Maybe find a little time during your commute to take part in the life of a farm. Come and visit when you have time and inclination and just close your eyes and breath in the ocean air and wonderful smells of a Maine Farm.