Enough to have felt chills when the vintage jag I had dreamed of driving since I was 10 (I would look so badass!) sat abandoned in the driveway of the farm on our first visit.
Enough that the discovery of a toy John Deere on the ground next to our car seconds before walking into the lawyers office to close on the farm made me think "It's a sign!" and not "Some poor kid must have lost his tractor!".
Enough that finding the majestic red maples and surreal prickly pears that make up the unique landscapes of our beloved home states (at opposite ends of the country, I might add) both deeply rooted in the soil of our farm, thousands of miles away in Tennessee, seems like living proof that this particular spot was just waiting for us to find it and call it our home too.
Just enough, but not so much that I'll mind trading that Jag in for a pickup. Yee haw!
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