I’ve come to the realization that the Urban Farm we left behind is no longer an Urban Farm.
It’s a nice house on a tiny piece of property with a ton of potential and all the infrastructure someone would need to turn it back into an urban farm, sure. . .
But currently just a house.
Now, I knew there was a possibility that, once we surrendered it over to renters, everything we built up may begin falling apart or feel a bit neglected, but I don’t think I knew what that really meant or how sad it would make me to watch it happen.
I guess I’d hoped bigger than I intended to that someone would move in who would love to garden, or who would anxiously anticipate the blossoms on each fruit tree, or who would sit and watch the pollinators on the echinacea for longer than they ever thought they might. . .
But the truth is, not everyone is interested in growing their own food, or reducing their waste by composting, or raising their own chickens…or even having the wherewithal to water the trees and perennials when it doesn’t rain for weeks (or months) on end, even though the rain barrels may still be full and easy enough to water from.
And so, the echinacea, strawberries, grapes, and rhubarb are all gone and though there is fruit on the trees, it’s all itty bitty and struggling.
Oh, how my heart aches!
And so, when we did the walk through with the old renters on their final day, I grabbed as many mini apricots as I could in a short window of time so that they could be used for something. . . anything. . . and not simply fall to the ground and be left to rot there.
Though some were nice and ripe, most needed a little more time, so I put them in a paper bag and waited for them to get some color and soften up a bit.
When they were ready, I began looking for a recipe and came across this Rustic Apricot Tart recipe here and knew it would be perfect. (I also followed the sour cream pastry crust recipe she recommends) simply adding almonds instead of pecans because it’s what we had on hand.
So I followed the sour cream pastry crust recipe she recommended and simply added almonds instead of pecans to the tart ingredients because it’s what we had on hand. I also added in three chopped up peaches because they were very ripe and ready.
And it was divine.
Not quite as perfect as it might have been if made with luscious, plump, uber ripe apricots from a well-tended tree, but divine none-the-less.
And so now I’m left to contemplate what makes a house a home over a piping hot mug of rooibos tea and a generous slice of apricot tart sitting on the glorious screened in back porch of the house we currently rent and are doing our best to treat as a home despite the fact that we know this is not our Forever Home.
I think I know the answer (or at least, pieces of the answer). . .
: : : time : : : energy : : : interest : : :
: : : good, hard work : : :
: : : love : : : tears : : : laughter : : :
: : : intention: : : dreams : : : inspiration : : :
: : : patience in every step : : :
. . .but I’m going to just sit here just a while longer and let my heartbeat match up with the beating of the raindrops, allowing my mind to wander and pure gratitude (for all that’s been and all that’s yet to come) to soak into this moment right here, because we’re all exactly where we’re supposed to be.