I woke up at 4:30 am this morning to bake bread. Yes, you read that right. I know. I should probably get a metal or something. Cue the music!
What’s that? People wake up at 4:30am every day to go to work? Psh. Pay no mind to facts such as that.
Truth be told, I get up at 4:30 am to bake bread… but not just to bake bread. I also get up at 4:30 am to sit in peace and quiet while I enjoy my first cup of coffee. Sometimes I’ll wash a few dishes. Sometimes I’ll light a few candles and read. Sometimes I’ll just sit in silence and pick the dirt out from under my nails.
What? I’m a farmer. I can’t help it. Dirt is part of the job.
This week it was necessary to start out with early morning quiet time because I don’t even know what’s happening with my life. All of a sudden, there’s piano recitals and Thanksgiving grocery lists and the threat of snow lingering over the horizon. I won’t pretend like we’re not seriously behind schedule on the farm – we totally are. We always are.
There is hay storage and an additional corral to build before the deep freeze and snowfall arrive. It sounds ridiculous to say it snuck up on us (it does arrive at the same time every year), but it did. I’m shocked it’s already here.
So while I’m inside trying to keep the fires lit and the oven full, Stu will begin the week by driving to the lumber yard and piling up enough timbers to frame in a large new addition to the ‘barn’. Hey kids! Guess what we’re doing for school today? Geometry! Watch Dad build some trusses…
I’m totally not kidding about that. This week we’ll cover building, gardening, baking, butchering, and more. Lucky kids.
I don’t even know what I’m doing. I’m just assertively walking from room to room – acting like I know what’s happening. The truth is I’m just drinking a lot of coffee and hot chocolate and folding laundry because it makes me feel like I’ve actually accomplished something.
Today’s the day to sink my heels in and finally get the potager properly put to sleep. That will be my grand contribution to the world. I’ll recruit the children to use the clippers I never allow them to play with – they can certainly help me deadhead flowers long-gone.
I’ll also recruit them to net the dozen rogue chickens that are wandering around the farm and laying their eggs God-knows-where. They’ve started to make dirt baths where I’ve planted bulbs and you know homey-ain’t-playing-that-game.
Rogue chickens? A cow to milk in freezing temperatures? A large garden to mulch and dig? A house to decorate? A kitchen to prep for a feast next week? A child’s birthday sandwiched somewhere in there? A new building? A dozen roosters, a dozen ducks, and four lambs to prepare for the table?
I got this. I totally got this. In fact, I love it.
I’ll assume I’m like a diamond. Shaped by the pressure. Yep, that’s it. A diamond. Duh.
A diamond who has a lot of dishes to wash and a lot of snow clothes to dig out of the basement.
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