Sometimes life doesn’t just change your plans. It pulls everything up by the roots and asks you to grow somewhere new.
Well, hello again, my beautiful dirtbags!
It’s been a while, hasn’t it?
If you’ve been wondering where I’ve disappeared to, grab a cup of coffee, find yourself a comfortable spot, and settle in. We’ve got some catching up to do.
When I started Yard 2 Yield, I envisioned sharing growth, sustainability, little victories, occasional disasters, and the beautiful unpredictability of turning something ordinary into something extraordinary.
What I didn’t realize was just how much my own life would come to resemble a garden.
There have been seasons of abundance, seasons of uncertainty, and seasons when it felt like everything I’d worked so hard to cultivate was being uprooted.
And somehow, through it all, I’m still growing.
From Mediating Conflict to Finding My Own Direction.
There was a time when mediation was a significant part of my world.
I was drawn to understanding people, navigating complicated situations, and helping find common ground when everything seemed impossibly tangled.
I’ve always been fascinated by what makes people tick. Their motivations, their struggles, their stories.
But sometimes, even when you’re good at helping other people navigate change, you don’t recognize how desperately your own life is asking for it.
Eventually, I found myself stepping into a completely different world.
Trading Mediation for Tractor Supply.
Yes, Tractor Supply.
From navigating human conflict to navigating feed bags, farm supplies, and the wonderful chaos of rural retail.
Quite the career pivot, wouldn’t you say?
But here’s the thing: I’ve never believed that a person’s value is defined by their job title.
There was something wonderfully grounding about being surrounded by people who worked with their hands, cared for animals, tended their land, and understood that a little dirt never hurt anybody.
It was a different pace, a different environment, and another opportunity to learn.
And then life changed again.
Only this time, it wasn’t about a career.
It was about family.
When Everything Else Had to Wait.
My mom needed me.
And when that became clear, the decision to step away from work wasn’t really a decision at all.
I left Tractor Supply to help care for her.
There are moments in life when everything you thought was important suddenly rearranges itself. Priorities shift. Calendars become meaningless. The little things you used to worry about seem almost laughably insignificant.
You simply do what needs to be done for someone you love.
And even when you know you’re making the right choice, it doesn’t mean the journey is easy.
On July 23, 2026, my mom passed away.
It’s a strange thing, losing someone who has been part of your world for as long as you’ve existed.
There isn’t a neat little instruction manual for grief. No timeline. No magical moment when everything returns to normal.
Because normal changes.
You learn to carry love differently.
You discover that memories can make you smile and ache at the very same time.
And you begin to understand that moving forward doesn’t mean leaving someone behind.
It means taking the love they gave you into whatever comes next.
And Then There Was Kodah.
As if life hadn’t already delivered enough change, I also had to say goodbye to Kodah.
There is a particular kind of heartbreak that comes with losing an animal you love.
They become woven into the fabric of your everyday existence. Their presence becomes part of your routines, your comfort, your sense of home.
And when they’re gone, the silence can be deafening.
Losing Mom and Kodah has reminded me of something I’ve always understood in the garden but sometimes struggle to accept in life:
Not everything we love gets to stay. And everything we love leaves something behind.
Sometimes it’s a memory.
Sometimes it’s a lesson.
And sometimes it’s simply the ability to love more deeply than we ever thought possible.
Plot Twist: Welcome to Oral Surgery!
Now, because apparently my life refuses to follow anything resembling a conventional path, I found myself entering the world of oral and maxillofacial surgery.
That’s right.
From mediator to Tractor Supply to dental implants, wisdom teeth, surgical scheduling, and a whole new vocabulary I never imagined I’d need.
Today, I’m part of the team at Iowa Dental Implants & Oral Surgery.
And what a fascinating adventure it’s been!
I’ve been learning everything from the complexities of surgical scheduling to patient care, insurance, medical terminology, and the intricate choreography required to keep a busy surgical practice running smoothly.
I’ve also been expanding my skills, earning BLS and ACLS certifications, and discovering just how much I genuinely enjoy the medical world.
Who knew?
Certainly not the version of me who was navigating mediation.
Perhaps that’s the beauty of life.
We don’t always discover what we’re capable of until we’re willing to become beginners again.
And believe me, becoming a beginner when you’re old enough to know better is both humbling and hilarious.
The Garden Has Been Growing, Too.
Through all these changes, the philosophy behind Yard 2 Yield has never really left me.
I’ve always loved the idea that something remarkable can come from something seemingly insignificant.
A seed.
A handful of soil.
A little patience.
A willingness to experiment.
And occasionally, the spectacular failure of something you were absolutely convinced would work.
Gardening has a funny way of reminding us that we are never entirely in control.
You can prepare the soil, plant carefully, water faithfully, and still have Mother Nature look at your plans and laugh.
Life isn’t much different.
Sometimes the things we thought would flourish don’t.
Sometimes something unexpected takes root.
And sometimes the most beautiful growth happens in places we never intended to plant anything at all.
New Beginnings Don’t Always Look Like We Expect.
If this season of my life has taught me anything, it’s that starting over doesn’t necessarily mean starting from scratch.
I carry pieces of every chapter with me.
Mediation taught me to listen and understand.
Tractor Supply reminded me of the value of practical work, community, and getting my hands dirty.
Caring for Mom taught me about love, responsibility, and how precious our time together really is.
Losing Mom and Kodah taught me that grief and gratitude can occupy the same heart.
And oral surgery?
Well, that’s teaching me that I am still capable of surprising myself.
I’m still curious.
Still learning.
Still finding things that excite me.
Still making plans.
And, naturally, still getting myself into projects that make perfectly reasonable people shake their heads.
Some things never change.
So, What’s Next for Yard 2 Yield?
I don’t have every answer.
And for once, I’m perfectly comfortable admitting that.
I still want this little corner of the internet to be a place for growing things, creative experiments, sustainability, homemade goodness, lessons learned, and whatever wonderful chaos life happens to deliver.
And I also want it to be a place for honesty.
For talking about change.
For acknowledging loss without allowing it to define everything that follows.
For celebrating the courage it takes to begin again, even when you never intended to start over.
Because the truth is, we’re all works in progress.
Some of us are just a little more heavily composted than others.
And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from gardening, it’s that some of the richest growth comes from what has broken down before it.
So here’s to fresh soil, unexpected opportunities, beautiful memories, and the people and creatures who helped shape us along the way.
Here’s to Mom.
Here’s to Kodah.
Here’s to every version of ourselves that brought us this far.
And here’s to whatever grows next.
The roots are still here. The story isn’t over. And I have a feeling the next season is going to be something special.
With love, dirt, and a healthy dose of determination,
Stephanie
Yard 2 Yield ~ Growing more than just a garden. 🤗
