This is Olivia.
She foolishly agreed to help two people, with a wild dream and a kid in tow, grow flowers and vegetables on a half acre this summer. And let me tell you, we lucked out with Olivia.
She has treated this farm as if it were her own dream and has put equal, if not more, blood, sweat, and tears into this windy little hilltop. She is willing to come at absurd hours in the morning to weed, harvest, make bouquets, listen to me talk way too loudly and with too many dramatic arm movements, deliver our subscription bouquets, and the list goes on and on. Anything that needed done this summer, we would turn around to either find Olivia doing it without being asked or realize Olivia had already done it.
We meant to brag and tell you about Olivia sooner, but the farm is always yelling at us for attention. I write this on her last day with us as she has other priorities with fairs and is about to head off to Kansas State to start her college career where she’ll double major in animal science and ag business and minor in Spanish. And let’s be honest, she’s beginning her journey to probably become your boss one day, because she’s smart, savvy, and is just that much of a badass.
We’ve spent countless hours gabbing about Gilmore Girls, sharing childhood memories (including one where she yanked out a loose tooth when she was 10 to get out of a boring class), discussing the horrors and joys of being on a sports team, laughing over the insanity of us running this farm, and sweating. SO. MUCH. SWEAT.
I’m not quite sure how we’ll run things without her. We’ll figure it out, but it won’t be pretty. I’ll probably “ugly-cry” call her once a week asking her where things are and to beg her to quit school and to come back. Maybe if we promise more ice cream and pepper jack cheese, she’ll agree to that absurd proposal….
We will miss “Liv-eeya” (as Linc calls her) and wish her the best of luck in all that she does.
And she seriously better come back next summer. 🙂