“Repurchasing” the Orchard

We are staying.

Some may not know that we were leaving.

The last few years have set us on a rollercoaster, not unlike most of the world. I have often joked that while others picked up an Amazon “habit” during the pandemic, we picked up an orchard. The world was in shambles, but we had a dream. A dream to be together, working this land and producing something amazing.

Fast forward to 2022. We barely survived the heat dome of 2021 financially, Shane had been asked if he would return to his prior company to serve as Director of Maintenance, and I was shifting into being a superintendent of schools in a nearby town. As all of these variables encircled us, it seemed the logical thing was to sell the orchard and relocate an hour down the road. It was the right thinking, for the right reasons: the girls would be near me during the day, the work of the orchard was too much to do “on the side,” and we still had a yearning to be back in the place we both consider our childhood home.

So we listed the orchard. Then, when it was apparent that nothing was available to buy in the other county, we abruptly took it down.

Fast forward a year. Having the girls in a different town was hard. Trying to maintain the orchard alongside two full-time and highly demanding jobs was more than we could take. The appeal to be in the next county still held an allure. So we relisted, this time with a large land company and a rockstar agent. We started getting inquiries immediately. The orchard has impressive curb appeal, for sure. It would, however, take a special buyer to take on the work that goes alongside the beauty. We ended up having an offer from folks that similarly wanted to dream this orchard into something more. Like many offers, there were things we weren’t comfortable with and that we would need to counter. But, as we started penciling through the financial piece of the offer, then the specifics of the non-financial pieces, we just couldn’t make it work. As we realized it would not be a great financial decision to keep moving forward, we stopped (probably for the first time in two years) and talked about the orchard in the “forever” tense.

We talked about the dreams we had for this land just three years ago. We talked about us both being head down charging forward in our careers, but to what detriment of our day-to-day and year-to-year experiences? We talked about how unlikely it would be to enjoy living “in town” for us as we watched our youngest take off up the orchard rows on her little dirt bike. We talked about who we are as a family. Our family culture.

And, as I stood pulling irrigation line out of tree rows one afternoon, we talked about how all of these things didn’t really fit. There was a misalignment with what we hoped our lives would look like and what we were spending time actually doing. I told Shane that I can feel my entire soul relax when I come out to the orchard. But, we couldn’t do both. We cannot run this dream while also attending to the responsibilities of our careers. Shane’s position has much more flexibility and potential to work from home. Mine demands in-person, constant attention. He has been on the orchard full time in the past, but I said, “what if I stayed home.”

This isn’t something that either Shane nor I would have ever pictured as part of our journey. I have quite intensely pursued my career. My identity has been intricately wrapped in that of a high-achieving professional woman. A proud, working mom.

But as we stood amongst the trees and Shane asked, “would you really want to do that? Would you want to stay home?” I found myself devoid of doubt. I am an over-processor. In every decision, I process. Out loud to friends. Out loud to myself. Out loud to people who shouldn’t probably be part of my processing. Ultimately, all of that is for confirmation. Often, I know the downsides to a decision and I literally have to voice all of the positive offsets until I have convinced myself that they hold the weight. I am terrible at trusting my gut and rolling with it.

But, this is a gut thing.

And a heart thing.

Since that moment in the orchard with Shane, I have unequivocally known that this is the right decision for us right now. For me to dig into the orchard- figuratively and literally. For me to pour into our young girls and be center in their lives. For us to recalibrate what we focus on and how we spend our time.

So, we turned down the offer.

And I announced my resignation, effective at the end of the school year (which no amount of resolution and clarity can make this step feel smooth or right or easy).

As I have said in a number of blogs in the past, stay tuned… but, this time, I really mean it. This place is about to get exciting.