A Billion reasons

As someone who worked for nearly 2 decades in a ‘normal’ job, I often find myself constantly equating my previous career to this one. As if I need to justify it. I think that’s a natural reaction to a lifetime of being taught that our work often defines us.

Right, wrong or indifferent - that’s just how our society works. When you spend the vast majority of your waking hours working, I suppose to some extent our work does define us.

In following my unexpected dream to be a full time flower & fiber farmer in my late thirties, I’ve taught myself to tune out that old way of thinking.

But every now and again, those old thoughts still float to the surface.

In those moments, I’ve learned to recalibrate the thoughts. My fringe benefits center around the guilt-free enjoyment of sunrises and sunsets, the occasional lunch beer and calling it a day before most folks have even made it to lunch.

Yet despite all of that intentionality, this farm is very much a real business. And I try exceptionally hard to run it that way.

On social media it likely appears as if I’m living that ‘dream farm life’. And while I don’t want to rob anyone of that vision (myself included), behind the scenes I take every move, investment, and decision with a level of seriousness that sometimes feels too extreme because it’s “just a little oddball farm”…

But frankly, the business part of the business is something that really fascinates me. There’s just so much to learn and so many options; the possibilities are as endless as your imagination…and energy. I just love it, especially when I can make something more efficient, more fun, and more profitable but without sacrificing the quality of my life, the alpacas or their resulting garments.

But in the same token, I find myself regularly downplaying the business part of this operation.

My go-to phrase has been “well I’ll never be the Apple or Amazon of alpacas…”

That’s old culturing, I suppose, where the farmer is expected to be this down trodden, over worked, broke and invisible-yet-integral component of everyday life. As if we can pay our mortgages and equipment loans on beautiful sunrises alone.

I liked to think that my Apple and Amazon comments were communicating that I wasn’t trying to get rich on this, but rather I’m just trying to “get by”. But I had a farm experience that can only be described as extraordinary and it taught me the biggest lesson on value and self-worth.

And it’s a long one, so grab a beverage.

In late July 2021, I updated the website to say I was no longer giving private tours because I was actually getting weekly, and sometimes daily, requests for tours. We were in the midst of a major farmhouse renovation, I had an unexpected bottle baby to care for and weekly flowers to deliver to customers.

There just wasn’t time for tours.

And if I’m being honest, they weren’t worth the effort involved…because I now know I wasn’t charging enough for them.

But anyway.

In August, I missed a phone call because I was elbow deep in dyeing the first lot of knitwear. With the lofty goal to get nearly 300+ individual pieces of knits dyed up before the Open Barn event in early October, I was laser beam focused. Luckily they left a message that I listened to while shoveling a fast lunch into my mouth.

It was a local winery inquiring about a tour…and she acknowledged that she read my website and understood that I was no longer giving private tours.

“I swear I can read” she said. And she continued to say that there was a family coming from the east coast that really wanted to visit MY farm. “They’ll pay whatever you ask.”

Now remember, I am a business person! I’m still trying to spring back from last year’s expensive alpaca c-section while managing this year’s increase in feed costs.

With the Open Barn deadline and a mountain of undyed knits, I said I’d need at least $100 for an hour tour.

Truthfully, no tour is ever just an hour and I wanted to say $200 but my old culturing crept in and made me think that was ridiculous.

“Done,” she said, and we scheduled it for the Wednesday before Labor Day weekend.

Honestly, $100 was fair and if nothing else, this tour would help prepare me for the Open Barn. And who knows, perhaps I’d make a sale or two in the farm store while they were here.

The morning of the tour rolled around and I was easily 2 hours into just preparing the space for their arrival.

What can I say, I still have a long way to go in fully valuing my time.

But I was excited. This was really the best time to show off the farm. I was in the middle of dyeing, the dye garden was in full bloom and I even made sure to have some new knits ready for sale. The farm was in the ideal state to communicate to anyone why my hats….aren’t at all cheap.

Anyway, the phone rang about an hour before their scheduled tour. It was their limo company calling to confirm their appointment and let me know they were “running behind at lunch”.

Now, this is wine country — limo & car services are completely normal, so I didn’t even flinch. And when they pulled up in a Tesla - the kind with the doors that open upwards like a lamborhini - I still wasn’t phased.

And seeing the Dad pop out first and realizing he was probably just a few years older than me really set me at ease.

In the lead-up to the tour, the winery had me under the impression the couple’s teenaged daughter prompted the farm visit. And with the “they’ll pay anything” comment, coming all the way from the east coast, I presumed they were a little better off than the average folk.

And if I’m being honest, I was expecting older — perhaps stuffy— parents.

So when I could see he was just a couple years older than me at best — and thrust his hand at me happily and said his name was Jay...I was like…cool cool we’re gonna get along great.

The kids somewhat slithered out of the fancy Tesla like they’d never been in one (I haven’t either) while Jay began hurling question after question about the alpacas (as many folks do upon arrival).

It was very clear right off the bat it was the Dad that pushed the tour, not the daughter.

These weren’t stuffy rich folks from the east coast that were going to sit on their phones while they gave their equally uninterested kids some “local culture and experience” — oh no!

I was never so happy to be so wrong and I kinda chuckled inside at realizing this wasn’t at all like I had in my mind…and while that could be the whole lesson right there, it’s not even the start.

Jay’s questions made the tour super easy, I knocked off all my rusty phrases and alpaca facts with ease. He was genuinely into it all, as were the kids and his wife, Maria. I felt like I knew them, as is often the case with folks who express sincere wonderment and interest on the farm.

I asked what brought them all the way from the East Coast. They said wine, and a 'concert’ over the weekend.

Would that be Dave Matthews Band at the Gorge?! Oh hell yes it was!

And if you know me and my fandom for DMB that extends back to 1996, you’ll know that Jay’s admission they were going to the show set our tour on a whole separate trajectory.

These were my people!

We continued to chat. Flipping between Dave sightings, alpaca facts, and everything in between.

Before long, there were several alpacas seated all around us. And I looked over to see Jay’s son seated and gently petting several of them.

Now, I must say, I’ve got one alpaca that’ll be down for an occasional cuddle.

But the vast majority of the herd does NOT permit snuggling.

And here, while chatting all things DMB, I had no fewer than 5 of them holding court with this young boy. Including one of my most wild ones, with several of the overly-skittish cria looking on.

Animals know good people…and my alpacas most definitely feel the vibe of the people that fit in their tribe…and it was just to incredible to not notice.

And I had one of those overwhelming moments where I felt as if I was really the Apple or Amazon of alpacas.

To see my little world, tucked away in arguably the middle of nowhere, bring such joy to someone else…and I got paid a hundred bucks? The deep contentment and gratitude was akin to making a large deposit into my IRA.

As annoying as this may sound, sharing this farm, that day, in that way, was like payday. I felt like the richest woman alive watching them marvel at all the beauty, good work and peace I have here.

We eventually made it through the whole tour, complete with a fast, condensed version of this farm’s homestead and Native heritage.

I walked them through my overgrown dye garden - the kids and wife were definitely not as into it as the Dad was. He took in every ounce of information I gave with wide eyes and intrigue.

We were clearly eating into their next scheduled appointment but Jay was hooked by seeing the animals and the dyes, he just had to see what it would all become. And as a business woman, I was counting on at least one farm store sale. As the kids tried on hats and mittens, we continued to chat.

It was clear by some of the comments the Dad made at the end … these weren’t just cool, hip, interesting folks.

They were very well connected.

It wasn’t overt, it was definitely a low-frequency, humble murmur…

Like a mix of hard work, opportunity, privilege, risk & reward… the kind that turns into good money.

After they left —having made some really excellent purchases in the farm store, by the way— I couldn’t shake how awesome the day was … and how it all came together.

How my expectations … or should I say…pre-judgements came to be and were quickly blown away.

It was just so much to take in — easily one of the best learning & enjoying experiences of the year. So much so, that I got on the horn right away with my two best girlfriends to debrief them of the whole tour.

I kept saying — they were so relatable, so easy going — a regular family…but I also kinda felt like they might’ve been … in a totally different sphere than us.

Which ultimately led one of my friends to a quick google search.

And wouldn’t you know it — indeed, he was … the kind of guy that turns up a real interesting search result.

Things like — hedge fund manager, the secret billionaire next door.

I couldn’t resist, I had to look for myself.

And holy shit. A Yale educated math wiz. An economics officinato.

A one percenter.

It’s easy to get caught up in those glitzy parts.

I mean, it’s not everyday that I meet someone knowingly - or unknowingly in this case - that has those kinds of means.

And I definitely got caught up for a hot minute thinking about that.

But at the end of the day, I kept coming back to a few things that still overshadowed all that — the vibe, the reality.

Jay is a Dad who wanted to experience something cool with his family.

AND HE PICKED MY FARM.

He literally has the means to take them and do anything.

AND HE PICKED MY FARM.

He has wealth beyond measure … and his daughter still rolled his eyes at him!

He asks Dad-like questions, and he thought in advance to bring old shoes to change into so he didn’t mess up the rented Tesla.

He was filled with wonderment, intrigue and curiosity…

And he learned things from me that even Yale couldn’t teach him!

He was genuine and real and so was his lovely family.

He literally has all the money in the world, and he wanted to see my farm.

There are so many lessons to be learned here. I reflect on this experience often and take-away something new each time.

Like the humanity that lies within every single person no matter what is or isn’t in their bank account …

And that wealth really is relative.