Graze started out as my Hail Mary. In 2016 I was sick with an undiagnosed autoimmune disease, single mother of my 2 year old son, staring straight into the ugly eyes of divorce, and the mountain of issues that go along with it - no income, no financial stability and an unclear understanding of my health. I was about to lose everything, literally the house, the boat, the car, health insurance - everything that in the end didn't matter at all. For all of this, I am so grateful and so honored to have lost the life that did not suit us in order to find the life that does. Graze saved my life.

My best friend was moving to California with her family, she had a small microgreen business selling to restaurants. She asked if I would like to take it over and give it a try. It was quick money, cash, easy to do from home and still care for my child (while sitting on hold with DHHS and attorneys all day) a multi-tasking approved gig. My Mom convinced me to do it, I needed something, the ship was taking on water quickly. I set up bakers racks in the basement, with some help from my parents and cousins and in between mega melt downs and turbulent emotional spells of the loss and my grieving, we converted old shop lights into grow lights, rigged the place up to do the job. It wasn't pretty. It wasn't expensive, it was what I could do with what I had. It worked. It had to.

My first grows were fails. I was convinced of a future sitting behind a desk answering calls, and quickly realized I had to make it work. After a few weeks and months the trays were yielding more, I was producing enough to grow my client list and my deliveries were set for Thursdays. The many devastating moguls I navigated were exactly the kind that would make a good film worth watching - late nights juggling dinner, tubby time, story time, bedtime, neglecting my dogs and the laundry, watering 100+ trays, emails, supply orders - watching my bank account ebb and flow above the green line and tears. The tears, the many times I fell to my knees riddled with anxiety, fear and exhaustion. Thankfully for my dearest goldendoodle Callie who would comfort my wails and protect us from danger with her bark, she helped me to pick myself up every time. After all, I was Mom. It was my most important job. I had to stay strong and dig deep, wipe my damn eyes dry and get it done.

In 2017 the United Farmers Market of Maine in Belfast was opened - an indoor farmers market model and accepting new vendors. My cousin reached out and told me I should look into it. I still remember the day I met the owner. He said to me "well, when you get your act together, come back to us and we'll see if you're a fit." Nervous and angry at the audacity of his challenge, I held my own. "I have my act together, here is the vendor deposit check" I confidently said, and I handed him a $50 check I prayed did not bounce, and off I went to design our booth for the market. That market gave me so much. It allowed me to find my independence, be someone I wanted to be, someone strong, capable, impressive and (on my way) to financial independence. Well, it didn't happen right away, but it was the beginning. I also made new friends with vendors and customers. Friends for my new life.

Microgreens and wheatgrass seemed to be the only constant in my life for many many years (and counting) I went 4 years without ever not having a tray growing in the grow room. I received a grant to build a 100' x 30' high tunnel to expand the business. I was on a walk in the woods with my brother when I read the acceptance letter and howled with joy as that "I made it '' feeling pulsed through my veins! Graze was growing. I could expand and sell more and this was the light at the end of the tunnel that I had earned. I had worked for this tirelessly, the sacrifices made, the grit, the tears, the scars on my heart that I hid with my "trying to succeed in a world designed for me to fail" eyes. I showed up for the job, every Saturday year round at the farmers market with coolers filled with my microgreens offered in 2 sizes, small for $8 and large for $14. I was making a living and hanging out with my new friends. Life seemed to be good.

In October of 2018 my car broke down, we lost power and I lost hundreds of trays. It was a mess. The blows kept coming. Then, my world seemed to fall apart. I opened the letter that stated I was being forced out of the only safety I had for my son, dogs, business and I - we were losing the house. The details, the reasons, the days I fought forward from that point. Shattered. I made an outdated, under loved house a home. The memories created with our family surrounding us, my son's first everythings, my first real garden and the place I felt destined to spend my life growing a big family. It was my safe haven. It also housed pain. A lot of sadness. The miscarriage, the loss of my marriage, the kitchen where my dad told me my sister was being life flighted, the home my grandparents would visit us before they both passed, the death of many chicken I loved. I had myself convinced it was my everything, while in reality it turned out to be the one place I finally realized who I really was, and what I was made of.

But microgreens, they kept growing. The indoor edible flowers I was growing were thriving and the chefs were thrilled with such beautiful unseasonal offerings here in Maine. The chefs I sold to had become my mentors, my inspirational role models, my critics and my friends. Phil Crispo of Norumbega, Erin French of The Lost Kitchen, Keiko from Suzuki, Briar and Jon Fishman of Lincolnville General, Charlie and Kirk from The Hichborn. These were some of the chefs, people who were going to have profound influences on my life and the success of this little microgreen farm, Graze. Many others, so many others who supported me, us, and kept my spirit upright when things were so fucking hard.

I was juicing and my health was improving. I started offering wheatgrass shots at the market. People started showing up for them, they were a hit. More and more juice blends, more and more 9oz cold cups served - could it be? Had I really just started a juicing business without knowing it? No plan, no training, just some fresh organic ingredients and a reason to improve my own health. June of 2019 I opened a small juice bar "plant based wellness cafe" in Belfast. The business was taking on its own natural developments, and although I was the driver, it seemed I was able to sit back and let Graze ride along on cruise control. We were well into our 3 year mark of really being a business that was bringing in money that was sustaining our new rental home, new used car payment, my son's school tuition with the help of state aid subsidized child care. I could go to bed without always feeling afraid to wake up the next morning to encounter something horrible. I had been conditioned to live with a guard up all of the time to shield myself from the blows. It was a heavy shield that had given me strength to slightly lower it over the next few months. After all, time heals all wounds. Of course, until a pandemic strikes.

March 13, 2020 was a Friday. I was at the cafe when I learned that the farmers market would be closed on Saturday due to this Covid 19 lockdown news. It all happened so fast. It all seemed to be washed away. The cafe, just under a year old, would not sustain the inevitable defeat the pandemic smothered our world with. The rental home we were living in and planned to buy just wasn't right, I followed my intuition closely. The looking glass that compassed my life, guided me to move into my family's guest quarters on their farm a few months before, at least I had shelter for my son, dogs, goldfish and I. The microgreens were growing strong in the High tunnels on their farm, and Graze had taken over maybe a little more space then intended, but we had become a bigger business. The months ahead were stewarded by some of the greats. Erin French of The Lost Kitchen launched an online farmers market to support her Maine suppliers and farmers, Matt and Jim of Sweet Monkey Business, partnered up to launch a local Delivery service to support our farmers market vendors, and we braced for the coming months. Graze pivoted a couple million times. I spent a lot of time scrolling instagram for inspiration, watched every netflix, hulu, apple tv, all of the series and remote home schooled my son. I temporarily closed the business for the winter, depended on PUA unemployment benefits and grants to create new marketing, sales methods and eventually re-open with a renovated commercial kitchen licensed as a Maine Beverage Bottle Plant space to juice.

Bringing us to today. Skipping over a ton of "this" and "that" situations, Graze is still here. Still my life line to a safe place I can call home. Maine. Thankful for what made me who I am today. My family. My friends. The Chefs. My customers who never gave up on me, you know you are and I love you ten times around the world! My new found entrepreneur friends - praise you. Graze is venturing into new stores and markets selling our juices wholesale, we are expanding our land. Plans to grow microgreens year round once again and developing a model we can share with others looking to promote sustainable agriculture and reduce our impact on the deterioration of our planet. Teaching children how to grow their own food so they do not go hungry. Giving back to the dream that gave us the opportunity to rise above.

2022. I have big plans for Graze. There is so much in this world that can be taken away from us. There is so much that can bring us to our knees in an instant. The microgreens keep growing, proving to me that if something so small can harness so much powerful potential, so much positivity, health and the ability to transform multiple times taking on new forms and existence, so can we. Graze not only saved my life, it gave us our happiness back and a shit ton of reasons to keep going.