So I left off with Joe right?!?! I have to backtrack a little to get this whole story right. When I first got to Virginia I was living in an apartment in Lexington working at a little country restaurant and hanging with my dog. I didn’t know anyone and nobody seemed too anxious to meet me so my free time consisted of hanging with the dog, eating with the dog and taking long walks with the dog…fun right. I loved Lexington Restaurant, it is what a good country eatin’ place should be; cheap, home cooked food and good people. I liked working there, the money was decent and it’s where I met my first friend. I’m not sure she knew it at the time but when I met her she pretty much became my best and only friend. She worked at the farmers co-op next door and would come get lunch, she tickled me with the way she talked and joked. She had sass and was friendly and I loved when she came in, it felt like I knew at least one person.
Lunch was our busiest time of day but I loved to cut up with the lunch crew, we had a good many regulars and everyone was friendly. One lunch an older gentleman named Snodgrass (I wish I knew if that was his real name but I’m not for sure) was talking about having to go to a dairy after he had eaten. Of course my ears perked up and we got to talking and he mentioned they were in need of some help. He gave me the farms number and told me to give a call; when I did I got a deep, monotone voice on the other line who seemed none to thrilled to be talking to me but told me to come in Friday afternoon.
When I pulled up to the farm all I could do was smile, I had passed this farm several times through the years on family vacations and thought it was a good sign going in. *sign* (remember I told you I’m big on signs and all that, well there was a lot when I first met Winston) I walked into the barn looking for any sign of people and after figuring I’d been stood up I poked my head into the milk room. There were some old, gnarly work boots on a ladder attached to what I figured was Joe. I said hey awkwardly and the same deep monotone voice from the phone said hey back. OK ready here’s the big reveal…Off the ladder stepped this dark haired country boy with big ol’ baby calf eyes (big, deep, brown eyes with long lashes) and funny gapped teeth. I love some less than perfect teeth…don’t judge. I don’t remember much after that I think we walked around the farm, looked at some cows, milked a little. An hour or so into “my interview” an older fellow with a big smile and a boy who seemed to be my age came into the barn. He introduced himself as Joe and his son Will. Wait what?!?! I thought my deep voiced companion was Joe the whole time. I think I was so confused at the time by everything that had just transpired that I just went along with it. Joe is what I had grown up around and always loved and admired about dairy. He was kind, witty and eager to teach you everything he knew about cows, real easy to talk to about whatever you had on your mind. Oddly enough in the next couple weeks I felt welcomed and at home for the first time in a while. Joe’s son Will quickly became my second friend in Rockbridge. Will cracks me up over nothing more than anybody else, we just clicked and milking with him was always fun. In the first couple weeks of work I came to find out more about that deep, monotone voice that I had first met. I would watch him with the cows and driving the tractors but we didn’t say a whole lot to each other at first. He seemed like he didn’t want to be bothered but he sure liked to stare a whole lot.
It was a little while before we hung out together alone. We saw each other everyday, but it took a while for him to ask me if I wanted to hang out. Our first outing together consisted of going to his friends house and out to dinner with a big group of friends. I was really anxious to meet his best friend Ron and his girlfriend Staci. They were the main people he spent time with and he thought me and Staci would like each other. He got the idea to have a cook out at his house and make me his world famous kabobs. All of his friends were nice and welcoming but I was excited to meet Ron and Staci. I cannot tell you the excitement that ran through my body when Staci walked through the door…it was friend (in my head) from the co-op with all that sass. *Sign*
I think we both knew there was something different about our relationship, we barely could go 5 minutes without sending a picture or text to each other when we weren’t together. We wanted the same things and it felt easy and safe when we were with each other. When we finally both had a day off we took a hike up Jump Mountain. The hike was fun and the view was amazing but nothing like where he took me next. Leaving our hike and driving down the road I saw things I knew I had seen before but I didn’t quite remember when or how. We finally stopped in front of a beautiful, old mill. I really don’t think Winston could have been smiling any harder. As soon as the words “Welcome to my home place” left his mouth a lump built up in my throat and I thought I was going to cry. Not only was it thoughtful and gorgeous and meaningful but I had been there before. I told you I had spent time as a child in the Blue Ridge Mountains and again as a teenager and I had stood in front of that very mill and taken pictures, I actually had several pictures of the mill at home. *sign* It was kinda like the universe saying your home, your safe, all is meant to be.
till the next time
♡ the little farmers that could
Between school, work and the farm we didn’t get a whole lot of time together so we sent 100’s maybe even 1000’s of pictures back and forth, these are some of my favorites…it was way back in 2009 before we had smart phones so the quality is a little rough but at the time they were the best
e to me in his deep country voice it’s a wonder I didn’t melt into the floor. My daddy has always smoked Winston cigarettes and ya know as much as I can’t stand those damn cancer sticks I always liked the name. When I first thought about writing this blog I thought about the confusion of the two Winstons. Our son is a Jr. in name, looks and attitude..maybe too many ways at times! I didn’t know if there would be confusion and I am too lazy to write it out every time so I may just refer to him as W Sr. at times.
memories revolve around the mill even though he only lived there till he was 8. Back in the 80’s the whole buy local thing wasn’t so big and his Dad decided to leave the mill. I think it may have took a little piece of his heart and his dads for that matter. I believe he got his work ethic from his Dad, even though he wasn’t a fa
rmer being a miller he worked long, hard hours to produce a product for the community. He saw at a young age what ambition and hard work can accomplish and he has lived up to those beliefs.
is cows like he loves his kids, he truly does and I had never seen anything like it til I met him. He went to work for Joe when he was 16. I will explain more about Joe and his role in our story later, but without Joe there would be no us. Winston worked for Joe for 15 years, he learned most everything he knows at that farm and he is proud to tell you it too. One of that hardest things we ever did was leave our little green house on the Timber Ridge Farm but once again I’m getting ahead of myself.
done in the service we moved back to where my parents were from..northern New Jersey. Ok hold up just a minute, I know what your thinking, “I’m a city girl”,”Ain’t never seen a farm”,”How dare she say she’s country”. Well I grew up in Sussex County and it was once known as the county with more cows then people. It’s rural and beautiful. Every road brings farms and road side stands filled with homegrown veggies, tractors driving down t
he roads, and old stone houses and barns just as pretty as you’ve ever seen.
different farm jobs through high school before deciding to go to Georgia to an agriculture school. Georgia wasn’t quite the place for me and I didn’t stay long, nor did I get a degree, so back to Jersey it was. I think I stayed there for about 6 months or so until I made my way down to the Carolina coast. I met my best friend Teal in North Carolina, raised some cain, and got a tan. It will always hold a very special place in my heart and I love to go back and visit but living at the beach my heart ached for the hills. So again I packed up what little I had in a u-haul, got in my little black truck and drove back north. 
It wasn’t long before I got the gypsy itch again. I swear its a wonder I ever stay in one place more than a month. I just start to get bored and next thing you know I’ve got the map out and my truck packed up like the Beverly Hillbillies. After I left Carolina I got to thinking and remembering the drives we took down to the blue Ridge Mountains as a kid. There was a little county called Rockbridge that had always seemed quaint and I packed up, loaded my dog in that same little black truck and headed on down the road. I didn’t know a soul but I got a 
job waiting tables at a little country restaurant and made due. A little old man named Snodgrass (strange i know) came into the restaurant to have lunch one day and we got to talking about milking cows. Next thing I knew I was getting a second job working for a local dairy farmer named Joe. I was beyond happy to be milking cows again but little did I know my entire life was about to change forver.
thelittlefarmersthatcould 