Not so very long ago, I was always stressing over budgets or getting to the next meeting on time or the logistics involved with a new program I was setting up or a crucial recruitment I was working on or (fill in the blank … the options are endless).
I often dreamed about living in the mountains, working in a creative field (like painting or writing).
Amazing how life works out, isn’t it?
Not so very long ago, these two sweet faces didn’t get to see me a whole lot. Twelve hour work days were common, with an hour commute on each end.
Now they get lots of kisses throughout the day. Whether wanted or not.
I remember, not so long ago, mapping out how many crockpots I could put in my guest bedroom to steam yarn, in order to create the volume of hand dyed yarn needed for a viable business.
Two weeks ago, Dad and I reworked the outdoor dyeing space. We may now (in theory) dye up to 300 skeins a day. I spent an afternoon scrubbing my beautiful six burner restaurant stove – it sure has come in handy!
(BTW, I think 300 skeins in one day would both do me in and warrant a celebratory dinner!)
Not so very long ago, I had two dye pots. Two.
New dye pots added in the last few weeks: three more 12 quart, two more 32 quart, and one more 40 quart.
Not so very long ago, Dad kept asking me, “So explain this to me again? You dye the yarn and people actually want it? I don’t get it.”
And now he’s Chief Re-Skeiner, while tying off all skeins for dyeing (not an enviable job!), and Right Hand for All Things Phydeaux.
Not so very long ago, I crunched numbers or sat in meetings or worked on new programs or interviewed potential employees or (fill in the blank – again, the options are endless!) in artificially lit rooms in big buildings with lots of other people doing similar work. Spending time outside meant rushing between buildings to the next meeting.
Now my views beyond the dye pots or drying yarn involve a lot of trees. Clean, pine-scented air fills my lungs. My distractions might include squirrel antics, exchanging pleasantries with one of the several feral kitties, squinting up at an eagle far overhead, hoping that the loud rustling in the forest beyond the fence is a feral cat rather than a mountain lion (!!!).
Not so very long ago, I was desperately holding on to a life that I needed to let go of. Little did I know that a fantastic life – one that I’d dreamed of living – was just up ahead, albeit with heart break, stress, and super hard work. Which is true of any life, isn’t it?
I didn’t plan for this life in the mountains, surrounded by yarn and nature, living with my dad, working harder than I’ve ever worked. And yet, it’s exactly the life I needed.
I am blessed.