You ever notice how the hard things have a way of finding you? You don’t plan for them, you don’t go looking for them - but there they are, staring you down until you deal with them.
That’s exactly how this week felt. The rain kept us out of the fields, which meant no excuses left. All the inside jobs we’d been avoiding suddenly had their turn at bat.
Anne took on the brave job of reaching out to other small businesses that might make good partners. Cold emails. Phone calls. Ugh. Not exactly her favourite way to spend a day. (If you know of any, let us know — we’d love the introduction!) Meanwhile, I was in front of a camera, trying to cobble together videos for Facebook. Between you and me, I’d rather be chasing a runaway ram in my slippers than hitting “post” on one of those clips.
And I’ll tell you straight - somewhere midweek, Anne and I had words. Not a blow-up, just that sharper-than-it-needs-to-be tone. You know how it goes… you’re both tired, both feeling stretched, and instead of saying, “This makes me feel vulnerable,” you say something snippy. Later, we circled back and admitted it: it wasn’t frustration with each other at all. It was just the discomfort of doing things that scare us a little, coming out sideways. Funny how much lighter it feels once you actually name it.
By the end of the week, the rain had let up, and we had pushed through the uncomfortable work. Anne made a few solid contacts, and I’ve got a handful of videos ready to share soon (yes, I’m still nervous to hit “post”).
So maybe that’s the little lesson tucked inside all this rain: if you lean into the uncomfortable stuff, sometimes you come out the other side with more than soggy boots — you come out with growth.
Until next week,
Farmer Rod
