“That place is held together with baling twine.”
Growing up, as I did, on a small family farm, that’s a phrase tossed out about a parcel of acreage that was in a precarious state.
Bailing twine is the duct tape of rural life. When it comes to its universal powers of holding things together, there is no end to its utility. We used it for a multitude of purposes: to tie things down in the bed of the pickup, as an impromptu lead rope for the horse, to strap tarps over hay bales, for tying up staked tomatoes, as a replacement for a busted shoelace, an emergency fix to the barbed wire fence, to strap the dog’s water bucket to the fence so it couldn’t be dumped over, to cinch up your britches or as a gate latch. If you were blessed to grow up in a rural zip code, I’m sure you can add to that list.
As dawn slipped in today with its sugar coating of snow, I sipped my coffee and contemplated my firm’s anniversary date. On a Groundhogs Day past, MotionMasters emerged from the burrowed dreams of its founders. Today is Day One, times 35.
I always thought that running a business would get easier with time and with experience. It didn’t. It’s like a farm. It’s not any easier to head out on a bitterly cold February day to feed the Herefords just because you’ve been doing it for years. Oh, and the grape vines are ready for pruning. The maples need tapping. The farm needs tending to.
Businesses need tending too. Thanks to the pandemic, mine right now feels like it’s held together with baling twine. But so far, the sisal strands are holding. We’re heading out on a shoot, prepping for a major edit and I’m walking the fence line looking for gaps with twine in my pocket. Spring peepers are just weeks away. — Diana