We’re quite familiar with grit. It’s everywhere-in our shoes, in our clothes, in our technology. There’s a layer of it in the tub after we shower. This is the nature of farming, I reckon. And so is (I’ve come to find out lately) the personality trait of grit. As we found ourselves short-handed in the middle of what we’ve come to call the “Julyvalanche” and the weeds got taller and more plentiful, and the treadmill of “just keep putting one foot in front of the other” sped up considerably and began trying to throw us off the other end, there were times each of us wanted to call it quits.
Fortunately, those times did not coincide with each other. And so we doubled down, ran headlong into full 7-day weeks, asked even more of the farmily. And we were met with true grit. The dedication to each other and to coaxing even more sustenance out of this land, and even more work from our tired gritty bodies.
I am buoyed by this. And beyond grateful. I know I can persevere because my farmily is there with me, giving even more, supporting each other and supporting us. I’m putting on my rally cap and pushing through into what I know will be our most productive August yet.
