Gentleman Farmers

I've just finished The Bucolic Plague: How Two Manhattanites Became Gentlemen Farmers: An Unconventional Memoir (P.S.). It was initially bought on my phone as a time filler, but soon I found that I just couldn't put it down. It's the story of how a Manhattan power couple risked it all by purchasing a literal mansion in upstate New York. The siren call of simple pastoral life was too strong for Josh, an ad agent, and Brent, who worked for Martha Stewart Omnimedia. The picturesque property is complete with 200 years of history, a barn, and a family crypt. They quickly found themselves as weekend gentlemen farmers growing their own food and raising a barnful of goats. Soon what was meant to be a weekend getaway becomes a road to full time mansion life, selling homemade products from the farm and blogging about it. The book chronicles their adventure transitioning into farm life, creating the brand Beekman 1802, and what it takes to keep the dream alive.


There's an overwhelming theme of striving for perfection in their fledgling business/blog/farm creation. Perfectly aligning raised beds for their heirloom vegetables, finding the perfect apple to photograph for the blog, keeping the mansion perfectly clean for visitors. The author, Josh, struggles between just enjoying his Oprah "best life" and creating the picture perfect "Martha Stewart" world. In one chapter a visitor to the farm talks to Brent and Josh about their perfectly tended gardens in comparison with her own.

"It's a little more Wabi Sabi" 

"A little more what?" I asked. 

"Wabi Sabi", she repeated. 

All I could think of was Martha's tuna burgers with wasabi mayonnaise. Did this woman own a horseradish farm? 

The woman patiently leaned against the potting table and began to explain the Japanese aesthetic of Wabi Sabi. "Over simplified," she explained, "it defines beauty as imperfect, impermanent and incomplete."  

How completely un-american? In a very refreshing sort of way.

I'm familiar with Wabi Sabi as a design aesthetic. Simple design, aspiring towards natural rather than man-made lines. I get that. But I've never thought about it in terms of my lifestyle. I am definitely my hardest critic, as most of us are. And although I wouldn't consider myself a perfectionist, I might be kidding myself... I get frustrated when I'm cooking and things don't come together as I hoped. I whine about how we don't have the money to instantly revamp and decorate every room in our fixer upper house. And I have a knack for self deprecation to make up for my perceived flaws. Somewhere in my life I must have decided that I don't want things perfect because that's unattainable. Instead, I only want things exactly how I've planned them out to be in my head. Which obviously is just as unattainable! So I've finally realized that perfection is relative. I think I find myself many times striving for the lifestyle I think I'm supposed to be living, instead of just enjoying the awesome one I've already created.

So what can be learned from a Wabi Sabi state of living? Loving the beauty of imperfection and incompleteness. For me, appreciating our house as a work in progress, constantly changing and evolving. I need to start looking at chipping trim throughout the house with endearing Wabi Sabi thoughts rather than thinking, "Dear God,when will we find time to refinish these!". When we have a party I shouldn't feel the need to apologize for the unfinished bathroom or not having time to make that extra fancy dessert, but let the company and conversation be the centerpiece of the gathering.

Reading about Brent and Josh's adventure helped me find a little balance in my own life between work, social life, home improvements, daily chores and now, blogging. It's given me something to ponder, a new mantra perhaps. Setting goals of "perfection" isn't necessarily a bad thing as long as it doesn't stop me from enjoying the journey to getting there.

*After you read the book, keep up with the gentleman farmers on their blog, here.