I just got an email from a wonderful older gentleman who took my class letting me know he picked up his meat share. Of all the wonderful and interesting people in the classes, Rick's the one person I connected with most, and was incredibly kind, helpful, and light-hearted. In the email he told me I'm a "class act," and so were my classes. Earning the respect of someone like Rick makes me feel that - at least in this one way and at this one moment - I arrived at where I've wanted to be as a person.

So often I feel like a million people could do my job better than I am. Some days it seems that if I just worked harder, organized better, or didn't waste so much time on stupid mistakes, I could get this place looking great, making ends meet, and walking the permaculture talk. But I'm inexperienced and not a natural leader, and I seem to have no idea where to even begin. I make bad decisions hourly and get the big picture mixed up with simple details.

Admittedly, because of all those mistakes I'm learning lessons that will probably come in handy someday. Like: don't park your trailer in a muddy field over night, don't underestimate livestocks' determination to eat expensive trees, and - the one lesson that's really determined to stick - check your f#*@ing tires before you go anywhere hauling anything! These things might save my ass someday. Then again, if there was some experienced farmer/rancher around to say, "hey, young lady, check those f#*@ing tires, park that trailer on the road, and chicken wire doesn't do shit up against a steer," maybe I could learn those lessons AND skip ahead a few (hundred) grades on all the other things I need to know out here instead of slogging along in the dark.

I frequently day dream about a career where I'm able to do an excellent job every day by simply working hard, thinking clearly, and caring deeply. I've been secretly wondering if vet school is feasible because it sounds so nice to show up at work and actually know how to do what you need to do. There's only one right way to spay a cat. (This is ridiculous. I realize that being a vet involves plenty of scary responsibility and murky decisions, but grass is always greener...) I'm in a maze where the questions aren't distinguishable from the answers, and the moment I come upon definitive reasons to make one choice, I find I should be asking a completely different question. I miss the feeling of really clear and indisputable success. Of accomplishing definitive goals.

Christmas break will involve planning and prioritizing, and maybe even setting some grand yet reasonable goals. This work is stressful, but it's challenging, exciting, liberating, and is preparing me for something good, maybe better. Maybe I'll leave here able to better balance creativity and idealism with a tight schedule and budget. Maybe I'll be a class act a little more often.