Everyone who knows us knows that Maggie is the heart and soul of Rebel Farms. But she’s oftentimes the muscle too. Though I (Mr. Rebel Farms) am the resident mechanic, Maggie took it upon herself to build this chainsaw from a myriad of parts and she’s not afraid to use it. The goal yesterday was to clear fallen logs felled by the dual hurricanes last summer and use them as barriers for our garden mounds which will then be used to grow crops of mushrooms. Maggie did all the cutting, helped haul the logs from the bush to our property and single-handedly shovelled and hauled four metric yards of compost to plant yet more fruit trees in the aforementioned garden mounds.
Oftentimes she’s doing this work with our baby on her back whilst simultaneously taking part in a business call for one of the several businesses she owns and operates. I pride myself on my work ethic. I consider myself the muscle to her brains… the plow, the sword and the hammer to her charm, her intellect and her heart. Until Maggie came into my life I felt few people were willing or able to keep up. But Maggie often, like yesterday, humbles me and it never ceases to amaze me.
There’s no birthday upcoming. No anniversary. And I intentionally skipped over Mothers Day because I despise hallmark holidays. This is just a simple ode to the woman who works harder than me, that trusts more than me and would follow me to hell if I asked her to (one could argue she already has). Thank you for always being willing to roll up your sleeves, work your ass off on any given Saturday and get dirty when you never had to. All with a smile on your face and a baby on your back.
