2022 in Pictures
It’s time again for the annual “where did the time go” post and this year has been particularly confounding. This time last year I was hunkering down in the snow for another Maine winter with no idea what was headed my way. The only difference this year is that there is, so far, no snow. But let’s look back and see what happened in the middle bits.
January • Snow, ice, and the very first hurdle faced at the Mount Vernon farm when our offer was soundly rejected and we knew that if we wanted this to happen, we were going to really have to work for it.
February • The first winter forced tulips arrived on Feb 5 and were heartily celebrated because tulips don’t bloom in Maine until May and I felt like I had become an actual wizard. I turned 46, spent a few days in New York to mark the occasion, and we faced the second of what we can now safely call innumerable hurdles at the Mount Vernon farm.
March • offer finally accepted, beginning a 90 day feasibility study because the house was in such a state of disrepair that no reasonable lender would even bother. The ground in Maine was finally workable and loads of cold hardy flowers were planted in that chilly ground.
April • Daffodils as far as the eye can see. Thousands of daffs came out of the field this year. Pink, peach, white, golden, green, and so many more. I didn’t know daffodils smelled like baby powder until I started growing them for harvest five years ago. They certainly don’t smell that way in the grocery store. Also approximately as many emails to contractors trying to get quotes on septic, well, foundation, and basically every other item at the Mount Vernon farm.
May • finally the field grown tulips and the last of the fancy daffs arrived on the scene. At the same time, tens of thousands of seeds and plugs and tubers were planted out for what was meant to be the biggest season at the farm to date.
June • Our wedding season officially kicked off this month with three wonderful couples. The purchase of the Mount Vernon farm delayed a week, but finally closed and we were able to set off on the marathon that would be getting all of the permits for the renovation.
July • Weddings, weddings, and more weddings. Demo began at the farm out west, and if I’m being completely honest, this is basically when my stress level dialed itself to eleven. I’ll let you know when it comes back down.
August • Did I mention weddings? August made me incredibly grateful for the team of amazing women that gathered around these celebrations. There is absolutely no way I could have done it without them and I am so lucky to call them friends. 5 incredible couples celebrated their marriages, two buildings came down at the Mount Vernon farm, the Maine farm went under contract, and we began to gameplan for the hurricane we knew was headed our way.
September • Speaking of hurricanes, an actual hurricane spent its last bit of energy on the coast of Maine on the very day that one of our brilliant couples got married. I’d say that was auspicious. It finally started to rain again after an entire summer of drought and heatwave and unbelievable pest (deer, groundhog, insect) pressure. Managed to squeeze a handful of dahlias out of the 3000 tubers planted…
October • Just when I get the house and field looking exactly as I wanted them, it was time to sign the entire thing over to her new stewards and look firmly westward. One more trip to the new farm to continue demo and then home to pack up and send off all of our worldly belongings in a moving pod while finishing out the season with 4 more weddings. I’m decently positive my blood pressure is through the roof at this point, and I just keep reminding myself that there is a point in time where this is all behind me if I can just remain focused on that.
November • Eyes on the prize. The worst week of our lives - and I say this with no exaggeration - in the truck with two miserable cats making our way around an arctic weather system on our drive from Maine home to Washington. Arrived safely, if shaken, and recuperated at my sister’s house much to the disappointment of her anti-social cat. Caught Covid-19 the day after Thanksgiving after avoiding it for almost 3 years, but thanks to immunizations and boosters, had a case of it that was manageable without hospitalization, and were able to ride it out in a little cottage we are renting around the corner from the future site of that beautiful farmhouse.
December • The view from here. This is what I see when I walk out the door of our little rental every day and it keeps me focused on what’s concrete while so much is still undetermined. That is our future home. Permits are still pending, the foundation is still un-repaired as we wait for the contractor to get us in the schedule, and we have no sense of timeline. But there are victories big and small to be celebrated. And an awful lot to look forward to. We’re here, we’re safe, we’re healthy (or on our way to it), flowers are already planted in that ground and I am so excited about the weddings that are coming my way in 2023.
To be honest with you, this has been the most stressful year I’ve put myself through. And if you know me, that’s saying something. So in some ways, I’m glad to have this opportunity to force some perspective and focus on the amazing opportunity that existed in 2022. And I didn’t even share the half of it. There was music again, and good friends, and my family is once-again nearby. My husband’s 30 year musical career is headed in a direction that neither of us would have foreseen 5 years ago, and we genuinely live in the (second) most beautiful place on the whole planet (West Kerry, I’m looking at you). There is always so much for which to be grateful and this year is no exception.
What about you? Have you celebrated anything monumental this year? Or even not so monumental. Sometimes the ordinary requires celebrating and I, for one, look forward to a bit more ordinary to celebrate in the coming year.
