Plan B

I am a list maker.

A pros and cons weigher-outer.

A worst case scenerio planner.

A friend of mine calls it being "overly responsible"...

I like to call it conscientious.

Sometimes life just doesn't pan out the way you want it to. Sometimes there are rabbit trails you never knew you'd chase, detours you never thought were up ahead, and even road blocks that cause you to turn around in a complete 180 and go back from whence you came. And by golly, I'm going to have a plan amidst the chaos of these types of life dilemmas.

The farm didn't have an especially great year in 2009. We didn't have an especially bad year, just, ya know- mediocre. And that is fine, no worries, no regrets, but in keeping with who I am, I had a split-second thought of ... What if one day the farm goes belly-up and we need to find another way to pay the bills---what if this happens over night and we HAVE NO PLAN.... (chances of this happening over night with no warning are slim to none of course, but alas, the "overly responsible" part of me is playing out) So I drill the farmer-husband with questions of what his plan B is for life, you know, in the rare instance stated above. What would he do? Where would he want to go? What if he couldn't farm here ever again for another day in his entire life ever forever and ever amen? He looked at me, trying to figure out why I was so insistent on getting an answer to this right this very second...then he remembered who he married, and answered me.

His plan B is to either pick up and move to another location and start from scratch on another farm...(this didn't really satisfy my question, but that is just me again so I made him come up with something else) OR go into the private sector and become a consultant. OK, that works. Words like 'private sector' and 'consulting' are vague enough to describe a real job that would pay bills, right?

And what about my plan B? Oh, I thought you'd never ask. I of course will go back to making fried dough and scooping ice cream like I did the summer of '97 in Hampton Beach, New Hampshire at a little place on the strip called Dough Express. Now that my friends is a viable profession. Couple that with consulting in the private sector and we have ourselves a plan B, baby.

Crossing 'Make a Plan B' off my list as we speak.