Food, no matter the ding or cut or bruise or blemish, intrinsically has worth. When I pick up something not grown or raised at my farm, I am filled with a sense of compassion and concern for the humans and the soil and the plants and the animals that surely weathered more than I can ever know to make what I am holding possible.

The gift of farm grade produce is that it's a visual reminder to take a big step back from exacting perfection and stand firmly in a place of exultation and amazement that anything at all came to fruition. All food is a sheer miracle.

Now that I’ve been making farm task lists for over a decade, (and living with the consequences of my choices), I can say with confidence that aligning what really matters to you with what shows up as To-Do’s is one of the most important ways to “grow” time for what you love.

One of my basic rules is:  I don’t let myself think about everything I have to do all at once.  It’s not only counter productive but also unnecessarily discouraging.  In all reality, would anyone ever attempt anything difficult if they really knew everything that it entailed?