Farms and Fish

We can all remember the first time we fell in love, or at least the first time we THOUGHT we were in love. It was the summer between 8th and 9th grade. It was a hot one (if you know what I mean.) I can remember spending every weekend I could get off of my parent’s farm with my first girlfriend. Sure, all we did was go to her parent’s farm, but we were together and that was all that mattered. I remember staying up all night and talking about the day together on the phone. I remember walks through the pasture to check that the spring fed cow tanks hadn’t run dry. I remember when school started again and I was so excited to see her every day. I remember when she started avoiding me. I remember when she stopped talking to me. I remember when it was over. I remember sitting around with my buddies after school. I remember them telling me, “There are plenty more fish in the sea.”

I thank God that it was true. I thank God for giving me the strength to pick up that pole and cast it a few more times, that is, until I got the keeper that is my wife. There is a lesson to learn from this, and it doesn’t apply solely to hooking the perfect partner. I am also learning to appreciate this age old wisdom when looking at farms.

I truly enjoy looking at real estate. Whether online, in the paper, or in a semi-creepy Sunday afternoon drive-by, nothing gets my imagination rolling like looking at a potential property to own. I imagine buying the property. I consider what things need to be repaired, replaced, or updated before we move in. I think of how I would remodel the old machine shed into my dream farm shop. I pick out the trees that I would cut down and where I would put a rustic swinging bench that Brittni and I could sit on as we watched our baby gallivant through the yard with our dog. I look down the field and see the outline of future rows of beans, sweet corn, and tomatoes. I imagine how I would replace the old split rail fence with high tensile wire to contain a quiet, meandering herd of beef cattle on a crisp fall morning.

I abruptly awaken from my slumber. I unlock my phone, and open Zillow. Saved Homes. SOLD! My heart sinks. She was the one. The one where everything I ever wanted was laid out before my eyes. Gone. My dreams now belong to the new owner of the brick, two story farmhouse on 27 acres with the classic, red, hip roof barn and the 30×60 pole shed. It’s no use. I double tap the home button and swipe up. I set my phone down and decide it’s time to go to work. As the door slams behind me, my phone dings and a push notification slips down onto the lock screen. “3 NEW listings match your criteria!” There are plenty more fish in the sea.

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