Written for Patreon, July 2025. Finished here.
Headley Flower Farm, July 2025
Last week I sheared our two babydoll sheep... boy, what a wrestling match for the ages!
A year ago we were able to get someone from Tennessee to shear them, but this year we couldn't find anyone. So I bought some shears, watched some YouTube videos and dove in. I'd read that after you've done it about 72 times, you're starting to get the hang of it.
It reminds me of the past year.
It's been a year since my low point of depression, and what a roller coaster it has been, and continues to be.
"Continues to be." I had a sinking suspicion when I wrote that. Reading that now, in 2026 I can see it. My worst fears were going to be realized in ways more severe than I was able to imagine.
The diagnosis came. The farm was ending. I started writing about that here, but I didn't publish it. I was too broken.
I spent weeks trying to figure out how to undo what I'd done. Quitting the church. The money. Sinking the farm.
We sold it. We had to. A lot happened after that. I started unpacking that here.
Then came lots and lots of therapy. Lots and lots of bitching on the phone with my brother and Heather.
Starting over felt out of reach. I was sure I could never start anything again. After starting the ministry and losing it. Starting the farm and losing it. Starting the recovery from depression. Then losing it.
Around January I started to find it within me. That may be the attempt 73 moment.
The sheep are rehomed now. I'm still living with what pushing through looks like.
I'm starting over now. Wondering where it's all leading.
