A little over six years ago, I received a phone call from the manager of an agricultural organization asking me if I would be interested in serving on the group’s board of directors as a representative of the trade businesses that served the organization.
A little over six years ago, I received a phone call from the manager of an agricultural organization asking me if I would be interested in serving on the group’s board of directors as a representative of the trade businesses that served the organization.
I thought about the request for about two seconds and responded with an enthusiastic yes. Six years later, I’m still enthusiastic about serving that organization, which I have watched grow and blossom over those years.
Unfortunately, as with all structured organizations, board policies must be followed, and this month I step down as the representative of the trade businesses. I will miss serving and sharing with the many board members I have met and worked with over the years. I have learned much in my tenure and I hope I have provided the group with some form of service in return.
The entire experience has made me realize just how short six years has become for a middle-aged codger like myself. I can remember as a 10-year-old bemoaning the chasm of six years that echoed between myself and possession of a driver’s licence, or as a 13-year-old watching the slow shuffle of time as I waited to turn 19 so I could have a real pina colada.
Now, six years seems as long as a short nap. Six years ago, I had a precocious five-year-old daughter and adorable two-year-old son; now I have a tyrannical tween and a video-obsessed lump. In the past six years, I have buried a beloved four-legged companion, a cherished pet horse, a couple of cats and numerous guinea pigs (don’t ask). I have helped put 6,000 bales of hay in the barn and shovelled tons of manure. I have read at least 500 books (that’s my rough estimate, I won’t list them here), completed half of an honours degree in journalism (part-time) and edited and published about 100 magazines – encompassing several different titles and subject matters. I have changed my cell phone style three times but not my carrier.
In the past six years, I have washed, dried and folded hundreds of loads of laundry; scrubbed the same plates, cups, pots, pans and cutlery thousands of times; plus vacuumed, swept and scrubbed the same sections of carpet, hardwood and tile ad nauseam. In the past six years, my husband and I have still not agreed on what colour to paint our bedroom, have the same cheap faux-leather couch (great for cleaning up spills and baby spit-up), and haven’t replaced the ugly carpet in our family room (it came with the house when we bought it 13-years ago!).
In the past six years, I know I’ve drank WAY TOO MANY cans of Coke – be it diet, regular or cherry-flavoured – and ingested WAY TOO MUCH food. I’ve put at least 200,000 kilometres on two different mini-vans, taken more than 40,000 digital photos, and travelled to California, Iowa, Wisconsin, Ohio, Pennsylvania, British Columbia, Nebraska, Michigan, Florida, New York, Illinois, Alberta, North Carolina, Nova Scotia, Idaho plus almost every square mile of Ontario – all on business.
That six years has flown by and except for the drudgery work, I’ve enjoyed every minute of it. Well, maybe there were about 45 minutes in there that weren’t stellar… or maybe a day or 10. Anyway, the six years I have spent working with the Ontario Farm Fresh Marketing Association’s board of directors have been a pleasure. And I will miss it very much. All the best, guys, and I’ll see you at the annual meetings.
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