Still dreaming of an acreage.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had this dream, this picture in my mind, of owning a small acreage. Long before Alice was even a thought, the dream was there. And now? It’s even stronger. I want that space for her too. Room to run, to grow, to breathe in fresh air that doesn’t come with the hum of a neighbor’s lawnmower 10 feet away.

Some of my fondest memories are from the farm with my grandparents. Oh, the fun I had—so much I couldn’t even begin to list it all. From the time I got up until dinner (and sometimes after), I was outside. Catching butterflies and lightning bugs, feeding grasshoppers to our fish, running through flowerbeds, riding my three-wheeler like I was born to do it, doing cookies so much I burnt up the plastic wheels on the hot concrete. Mid-pie snacks, building forts, exploring cornfields like I was on some top-secret mission. I was doing ninja warrior long before it was on TV, with homemade ninja warrior courses and played parkour on Grandpa’s old junk pile made of wood scraps, rusted corn crib parts, and who knows what else. It was freedom, imagination, and pure childhood joy.

That’s what I dream of giving Alice.

But growing up, whenever I shared this dream, it was met with doubt, especially from Jim. He had this way, subtle but sharp, of making you feel like you couldn’t do things. Like you weren’t capable or didn’t think things through. Every time I mentioned wanting land, it was the same old script: “They’re a lot of work,” followed by a list of reasons I shouldn’t even try.

I don’t have contact with Jim anymore, but it’s wild how those words still play on loop in my head like a scratched-up record. That voice of doubt sticks, even when it’s no longer around. But I’m learning to turn the volume down.

Because yeah, land is work. So is life. So is raising a child. But we don’t quit because it’s hard, we figure it out.

That’s what I wish I would’ve heard instead of discouragement. Just once, it would’ve been nice to have someone say, “That sounds amazing, I hope you get it someday.” But I never did. And I know people say we remember the negative more, but honestly, there were just a lot of them. Not just with me, but with how he talked to a lot of people in the family.

Still, I haven’t let that stop me. I’m working hard to make that little piece of land ours someday. Even if the world feels like it’s working against me, sky-high interest rates, land prices through the roof, I haven’t let go of that dream.

And if you’ve got a dream too? Don’t let anyone cast a shadow over it. Not even someone who’s supposed to believe in you. Especially not them.

Keep going. Keep dreaming. Keep planting those dreams. You’re capable of planting in hard soil!