MISSING OUT.

I wanted to go. I mean, I was tired, we'd just spent the whole day at market, but listening to a lecture by Joel Salatin––whom I'd never met, only read many books by––sounded like a nice cap to the evening. So after market, Hannah, Further and I walked over to the conference center, chatted with some friends, and sat down.However, Further, I could tell, was not going to have it. He was too tired––parent's will know what I mean. He was wound up and dissatisfied with anything that resembled sitting in a seminar. So a few seconds after Joel started his talk, I had to leave with Further.Outside the room, I could hear Salatin doing his thing––railing, ranting, being himself (he does a notably superb southern gentleman impression). Further, however, wanted to run.So that's what we did. He ran up and down the hallways as I lumbered behind him tiredly. We circled the building, occasionally hearing laughter or applause make its way to my emotions. Because I would be lying it I said I didn't have moments of jealousy, of disappointment in missing out. But you know what, I liked watching my son. I liked knowing Hannah was in there enjoying herself, getting a nice break from being the one who chases child. I was having father/son time and it was, when I would look down at my son, lovely. Further was having a blast––he wasn't missing a thing.At some point, maybe an hour in, we came to a room with another young boy. His father introduced himself and we got to talking. The man, perhaps Mennonite, told me this was his eighth child, about eleven months old. "Eight," I commented joshingly, "That's a fair amount of little ones."He said they had always wanted a big family, but insisted you have to be able to provide for each one of them. But by provide, he wasn't referring to food or shelter. At least not entirely. He was referring to having a good relationship with each one. This to me was a strikingly beautiful sentiment, and it stopped me for a second. Here we both were, missing a seminar we had both wanted to attend, but spending time with our sons. I realized in talking to this father of eight, while his little boy crawled over him as mine bounced off the walls, we weren't missing out at all. Joel we missed. Everything else that mattered, we experienced entirely.-Jesse. HERE is Jesse's review of Joel's newest book for Hobby Farms.