This Wednesday morning, we lost one of the most magnificent beings I imagine has ever walked the earth.  To go through life in pain and suffering for a half a decade with a melange of illnesses and maladies, yet remain not only upbeat, but endlessly charming, funny, and perpetually thinking of how to help others until his final moments is a magic that I wish to carry, but don’t believe that I’ll ever achieve, or even come close to.  An integrity that permeates throughout his history in the corporate world (not known for its emphasis on compassion, generosity, and selflessness) is something of a marvel to me.  The stories that poured in about his good deeds, from old colleagues and associates he hadn’t seen in decades, seemed endless as word of his health found its way down to his old haunts in Savannah and Florida.

  Any time I ran into a mechanical or building issue I couldn’t solve, Tony was the man I’d call.  When I needed an extra hand, he was the first to volunteer.  At 70 years old, he was walking rafters with me, 20 feet in the air, in 95 degree heat, helping to roof a huge structure for a solar installation.  Mandy must’ve fired’ him 30 times, just to protect him from his own eagerness to help on some pretty grueling jobs in unforgiving conditions.

  While natural plastering the interior walls of our flower studio (a job I remembered not being too hard in my 20’s, but discovered to be quite painful in my 40’s) he stayed cheerful as hell, despite approaching 70, and we just sang old 60’s and 70’s country songs all day every day and made a beautiful space for Mandy to work, and photograph our flowers in.

  He, like all of our family members, was really worried about us for years when we decided to start this farm.  We were so skinny and exhausted from 105 hour weeks, and just flat broke. The concern was real and it didn’t look like we were going to do anything but fail miserably and collapse our health in the process.

  He practically forced us (and our stubborn/ignorant determination to do everything by hand) to get a tractor, which was a game changer.  He lent us the money to do so and tried to fight us off every step of the way as we paid it back bit by bit.

So, to come through a decade of near ascetic self abuse in a seemingly hopeless venture, to evolve into a farm that supports multiple families and does so in a way that (guided by Mandy) is always looking for ways to help others who may be struggling in the community, he continued to be unbelievably proud of his daughter for building this farm in a manner that put employees and environment before profit.  To have him change from being maybe a bit skeptical about our chances as a business and the added difficulties self induced by our relatively extreme eco approach, to one of our biggest admirers and cheerleaders, really meant a lot to Mandy and me both.  To not only take the worry out of his heart, but to have it replaced with full throated support and enthusiasm is an incredible feeling to have. 

  Not only was he all those things to us and others, but after gifting him a wood lathe and some wood turning classes, he quickly became an incredibly skilled and talented wood worker who supplied our little farm store with a constant stream of beautiful candle holders, cheese trays, lamps, and other items crafted from the wood of fallen trees on our farm.  It really became his passion for his last years.

When it was time to celebrate (which he loved to do!), he’d join you in a stuntman, on the dance floor, on karaoke, or in endless rounds of joke telling.  Fun and entertaining, but never in a way that tried to steal the show.  Always in a way that invited you to be a part of the fun.  The man just had a glow about him. He was straight up magic !

  He looked out for everyone always and never ceased to make everyone around him smile with his quick wit.  I can’t tell you how much we miss him and how hard the process of losing him this whole summer has been.

  If you feel so inclined, say a prayer, send meta, or raise a glass to the sweet gift of a man that raised Mandy and not only welcomed me to the family but became one of my closest friends for the last 18 years…Anthony Harley Rovolis.

 In the fanciful parts of my brain, I like to think that our sweet pup Cotton, who we buried on Monday, was waiting for him and they walked on to the next phase together.  She was a beautiful fluffy 14 year old, white pyrenees who worked beside us, protected us, and cheered our hearts for the last 10 years.  Both of our cats stopped eating and just laid around all day in apparent depression the rest of the week when she passed.  The only dog our cats liked.  I guess they cared even more than we knew.

  As for the farm, we just passed through a hurricane.  Trees down, power’s out, the neighbors bulls are loose, greenhouse plastics ripped in the wind, our neighbors dog killed another of our guineas, and the place is a swampy mess, but we are otherwise without injury or damage. And to round it and compound it, this morning we found that our website had 24 pages disappear and reverted back to a season that is no longer relevant, with products we no longer have.  We’re hoping to find resolution to that before this newsletter goes out, so if you’re wondering why it’s late..that’s why.

  It’s been a heavy week…but we have lived so much of our lives with the amazing fortune of having incredible family members to guide us and support us.  This summer has been an opportunity to see how firmly those seeds of love and compassion had taken root and to be a part of something timeless, immensely painful, and in ways... beautiful.  To be in that house with Mandy’s family, day in and out, over months, in the midst of everyone constantly and actively taking care of each other and being there for one another…flowing like water towards whoever was the lowest at any given time and putting our attention and love there…it was a beautiful human experience.  It felt like the roots of the redwoods in a fairy ring, during the worst of storms…..all interconnected, sharing resources, sharing strength, supporting each other.

  Stay caring and kind and be sure to laugh and have fun and to share that fun with others.  Be generous of spirit more than you’re inclined to be.  If I’ve learned anything from the Rovolis clan it’s that being generous outside of your inner circle and when you might not instinctually be inclined to do so, gives the greatest benefits you can get in this life.  Helping others radiates outwards and you can see the effects continue to ripple forward.  It's a good way to live.  It’s how Tony lived.  It’s how Mandy lives.

Wishing you a great weekend.

Steve