By Nicole Caldwell for The Thousand Islands Sun
After several months of working almost exclusively on writing and editing projects, padding around the farmhouse in pajamas and slippers, and enjoying some much-needed vacation time, safe to say the seasons have shifted at Better Farm.
Spring has brought with it a fresh crop of visitors from all over the world to repopulate the farmhouse over the course of the next half-year. Sun up to sun down is once again a peppering of farm tours and projects, maintaining the property, setting up rooms for overnight guests, and planning curriculum for students. At breakfast, the 12-foot long dining table is mostly filled with folks discussing environmental issues, books, politics and ideas.
All the hubbub is a gift to be sure, not that I feel entirely ready for it yet. For one, it’s still so chilly out. And two, I so enjoy the natural ebb of intensity winter brings. Where I lived in relative quiet, in that soft space with my partner where words aren’t always necessary and formalities scarce and I could quilt, embroider or do nothing at all, I am now surrounded by curious visitors and excited travelers. It’s a bit like walking out of a very calm, dark room into a brilliantly sunny day.
It’s a surreal experience to live where you work. On a daily recurrence this home is transformed into a stopping place for people I’ve never met before and won’t again. My backyard becomes a living lab for people to study sustainability, art, environmentalism, organic gardening and animal care. Every day—sometimes every few hours—I watch the space transform in and on top of itself again. Residence to inn. Homestead to petting zoo. Private to public.
I have to remember to change out of my pajamas before I leave my bedroom. I brush up on my stock answers for what exactly I’m doing here, and what inspired such a strange place to come into being. I recite home tours and crack the same jokes.
Also though, I relish the daily reminder that what is happening here is something unique and dear. That the stars you can see in the sky in this part of the world are absolutely spectacular, and that living in an area like this with all these dips and valleys and forests and yes all this water is an unbelievable privilege. I am so thankful for all these travelers curious about the world, and students hellbent on making it better.
I couldn’t be more grateful for those reminders. And for the swift kick in the butt it gives me to gear up for a spring and summer season even busier than the last, which was busier than the one before it. There are so many things just out ahead over the horizon.
Until next time, better be.