Wade in the Water : We're 90 Day's IN
The days have been full, the work ever-evolving - yet the process? It's been anything but stagnant.
What's shifted most isn't our pace - it's our perspective. We don't just see work differently - we have to work differently. And the truth is, this understanding and process is continuous. Ever evolving.
Before the conception of Cantrell Creek, we were fueled by self-sacrifice, and not the kind that produces sustainable fruit. We sacrificed joy for a vague version of "happy". Sacrificed purpose for confusion. Sacrificed rest for a constant stream of work that never truly moved the rod.
That mindset got us far, sure. But that type of fuel couldn't power either one of us forever. Eventually, we burned out. Then the question became: What do we refuel with?
This question changed everything. We're learning - slowly - that rest isn't the opposite of work. It's part of the equation. And because of that shift, we're intentionally creating time for moments that refuel and recharge us while we work.
Dustin carved out time to go fishing - new spots and familiar ones. I found rest in the quiet: reading, writing, creating, while being outside in nature.
Together we explored new restaurants, wandered through small-town stores, made a trip to Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds in Mansfield, Missouri - and made plans to go to New Jersey to visit family and can tomato sauce.
90 days in, part of our progress is realizing that creating time for rest doesn't slow us down- it refuels us, making the work more creative, intense, and sustainable.
What 30 More Days Can Hold
This past month, we made visible progress - the kind we can point to - but we also made decisions that reshaped our timeline.
We cleared the front corner of the property and planted four cherry trees. It was sheer determination in the middle of a Missouri summer.
We discovered Resurrection Lillys and Rose of Sharon Hibiscus
And as it goes, with every new step forward, something shifts. We realized the workshop needs expanding, which means new plans - cutting trees, mapping out dimensions, and preparing to pour concrete.
In the trailer, as with any restoration, decisions get made- and then remade. We'd previously caulked and trimmed. But this month, we changed direction. We took it all down and started new: adding drywall in the living room, mudding, taping, and prepping. We'll do the same in the bedroom next - opting for full drywall, chairing railing, and new trim. We widened the bedroom doorway.
Finalized paint choices (again). Picked out the kitchen backsplash, decided for concrete countertops, and the height and design of baking area and bar.
Design matters, and so does changing your mind.
Picked out the kitchen backsplash, decided for concrete countertops, and the height and design of baking area and bar.
And between all that? The many, many trips to Lowe's and supply shops - comparing samples and prices, reworking plans, hauling drywall, paint, parts, and other materials.
It's not the part that gets photographed, but it's part of the build all the same.
There's a rhythm to those aisles, the quiet decisions made in between loads.
The work isn't always in the doing - sometimes it's in the deciding.
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Quite Confidence
We're in the thick of it. Still learning. Still adapting. Still laying the groundwork. Still asking questions about how to do this well - not just the building, but the being.
Most times it's quiet. Sometimes it's pausing long enough to remember why you started. Other times, it's intentionally creating space to process our process. This process isn't polished - it's personal.
We're showing up, staying grounded, and moving forward. From here, it's out about one thing: persistence
