Whirlwind Week in Mt. Vernon

This week has been a whirlwind. We’re currently in Mt. Vernon (no, not that one), about thirty minutes from our new property. The weather has been less than desirable—cold, in the 30s and rainy—but with work keeping me busy, I’ve been collapsing on the couch most nights by 8 anyway.

Rob spent the week tackling the practical tasks—scheduling water and electricity connections for the land. As soon as those are in place, we can finally move the rig, something we’re both more than eager to do. He even managed to secure an address for us quicker than expected, which makes everything feel a little more real.

Yesterday, though, the skies cleared for a short while, and it turned into a wonderful day on the farm. Driving into Winnsboro for the first time since we purchased the land was surreal and exciting. I convinced Rob to stop at a Christmas market in a neighboring town. He was relieved to find only eight stalls, and while nothing begged to come home with me, the vendors were incredibly kind. The pups were the stars of the show, charming everyone they met.

From there, we picked up a few odds and ends at the hardware store before heading to the property. While Rob installed our mailbox, the dogs and I walked the land. My official task was to mark the smaller trees I want to save before brush clearing begins next week. In the process, we walked 2.5 miles—and still didn’t reach the back fence!

We stumbled upon so many wonders: a cottontail bunny who startled me as much as I startled him (until Daisy locked eyes with him—her first bunny encounter, I’m sure), mysterious burrows (perfectly sized for Lu's snout), gopher holes, and fresh deer tracks. I wandered farther back than ever before, into the dense woods where tall, skinny trees block out the sun. It was peaceful and still, a place I imagine will one day hold a gazebo for quiet reflection.

The dogs reveled in the freedom, sprinting in and out of the path, Daisy’s wounded leg not slowing her down a bit. And then—two massive pear trees, heavy with fruit. I couldn’t resist tasting one. Tiny, but delicious. Fruit trees are something I’ve longed for, so finding them already here feels like a gift.

By the time I returned, Rob was finishing the mailbox. It’s thrilling to no longer be “undomiciled,” and we can’t wait to move the rig onto the land. Today, I ordered flowers and plugs for the farm—overwhelming, yes, but equally exciting. The dream of The Flower Farm is beginning to take root.

So much more than a mailbox!

Next Up: Dirty Dreams

The land is beginning to whisper its possibilities, and I’m finally ready to share the vision. The Flower Farm isn’t just about blooms—it’s about belonging, rhythm, and creating a sanctuary rooted in beauty. Next week, I’ll take you inside the dream and the plans that are starting to unfold.