I love my peaceful farming community. It has been almost 18 months since I moved away and I miss living there so much! One year in a rental house and now I have been with my parents for six months and counting. I am very much looking forward to living in my new home but mostly to being back in my community.

I love to be outside. Completing my landscaping is one of the reasons that I am continuing to live with my parents for a few extra months. This is a bit tricky because my one of my favorite outdoor activities is yard work! It is not without some trepidation that I am turning much of this initial yard work into the hands of a stranger!

Nevertheless I was looking forward to beginning the process. Our first work meeting began in my backyard as we stood and discussed what to do with my grapes. He and I had arrived at the property within minutes of each other but his crew was there before us. (I am always excited to see tractors on site.)

Grape discussion completed, we turned to the fruit trees and raspberries. Wait! What raspberries? My shock could not be disguised! Where were my raspberries? It would seem that the first thing his crew accomplished was to rush to the corner of my garden and obliterate my six year-old raspberry patch!

Unless you grow berries this will sound dramatic but I was weak in the knees. During our initial walk-through I had instructed them to keep the raspberries. Ironically when I said, “Keep the raspberries,” I actually meant, “Keep the raspberries.”

The crew thought they were removing old dead bushes (because Spring has not yet arrived) and the boss was immediately formulating a plan to make things as right as possible. He spent the next day learning more about raspberries and making phone calls to berry farmers. He has been great.

However, on that morning I felt myself being rather emotional. We completed our meeting and I ran a few errands. Returning home I stayed in my car for a few moments and found myself crying.

Was I crying over the raspberries? I thought so at first but then realized that I was crying over loss. I felt tired of losing things that I love.

Side note- the giant hole they dug for my geothermal system meant creating a giant mound of dirt. This dirt obliterated my entire fifteen bush line of honey berries and over a dozen blackberry bushes along with their supports. The worse loss at that time were the carefully set aside mounds of topsoil that we had been creating for a few years. The septic tank tractor later destroyed another row of blackberries.

Sitting and crying in my parents’ driveway I felt that for all of the fun and exciting new construction I was losing my old, familiar and beloved creations. Obviously this is compounded by my loss of my old, familiar and beloved companion.

I commiserated with the women in my family who all understand about raspberry bushes. I hesitated to tell Lori because I thought she would be quite upset. She understood the situation but her response was a lighthearted, “Well, with loss comes fresh opportunity.”

By that time I had calmed down and was intrigued by her words. I mentioned the raspberries to a few other friends and from that point on the responses all followed the same idea. With loss comes fresh opportunity.

Hmmm. I have been able to embrace this for my raspberry patch but what about my life……?

On the other hand I have a chicken coop that Mark built. He loved his chickens and took a lot of time thinking of how to make their home just right. It wasn’t a forever coop and on our walks we would make plans for designing a new coop with a stone exterior. Nevertheless this coop is as far as we ever got.

We once moved the coop to make way to build our new home. That house-plan was changed and we relocated our new home to its current remodel. This meant the new coop location was right in the way of everything.

I planned to dismantle the coop but I couldn’t bring myself to do that. I took photos and planned to sell the coop but that never happened. Finally I agreed to give it to a friend.

Then I lost all of my raspberries.

I decided I needed to keep the coop.

It will need some work to be presentable at its new home – but it will remain. For me – well after years of chickens in both Washington and Utah I came to the crazy realization that I had never tended to the chickens at all. I never fed them, never watered them, never did anything for them. I thought we were chicken people but it turns out Mark was the chicken guy and I was the cook who loved fresh eggs.

I will need to learn to take care of chickens as well as their coop. Truth be told – I think I am just a bit afraid of chickens. I have a lot to work on.

What does this say about my new life? Mourn the loss but welcome new opportunities. All the while treasuring my past and overcoming my fears as I fill in the gaps.