We get up pretty early around here, before the sun for sure. It’s just what we’ve always done, have not ever used an alarm clock because neither of us needs it. Now I’m not bragging here, let me be clear. I wish we got more sleep. We just… don’t. When I rise in the morning, first stop is the bathroom, then the dogs need to go out. They’re let back in and fed, coffee made, e-mail checked, news skimmed, then breakfast for the Mr. and I.
Then my daily commute commences – and often that means leaving the house in my pajamas. Today it was Santa pants and Snow boots, even though this is the mildest winter we’ve had in a long time with no snow to be seen for miles and miles.
My first stop is the chicken coop across the yard… where the girls are let out into their newly raked run, the water is changed, their feed tub filled. Treats like sunflower seeds, parsley and yogurt are dispersed and if it’s their lucky day, if the sun is out and the predators (hawks, coyotes, fox) not evident at the moment, they’re let out for a little while to free range while I’m up at the barn. Today was that kind of day.
While they’re scratching around in the mulch at the side of the garage just to piss the Mr. off, I head up to the barn to begin chores there – I’m greeted every morning by the nicker of all four horses. With all of them in the geriatric stretch of life, I’m grateful for all four of those nickers.
First they are given their grain – the big boys eat in their stalls, the littles are walked out to their day paddock and are given their grain and hay out there, unless it’s a bad weather day. In that case they’re fed in their stall. Every day the weather determines how the routine will play out.
Meds are administered to my two boys – Coady (red mini) has Cushings Disease and gets a pill for that, and Max gets eye drops to help ease the glaucoma that has developed in his left eye.
Once the big boys, Max 1 and Max 2 are finished eating their grain, they’re let out for the day into the fields. The littles would become obese if they had access to all that grass, so they have to settle for less.
Stalls are mucked next, and my trusty old gator is my best friend for that chore. After mucking stalls, refreshing bedding, cleaning water buckets and filling with fresh water, blowing out the tack room and rubber brick aisle with a leaf blower – I drive the gator to the back of the farm and dump it in the manure pile that slowly turns to fertilizer.
Once the animals are set for the day, in warmer weather months I head to the gardens to see what’s ready to pick, what needs tending, watering, etc. This year we’ve planted more blueberry and raspberry bushes in the apple/pear/peach orchard and we plan to apply some tips we learned from another farmer in Vermont – netting and “Protecting the Bloom”. More on that another day.
This photo is taken from one of the hayfields.. facing the houses and the road beyond them. The horse barn and chicken coop and orchard are on the left, our home almost at middle, and my daughter’s new home on the right. Tending this little farm has become a family affair, I don’t ever lose sight of that blessing.
Once outside chores are done, I head in to shower and do some house cleaning , perhaps some editing work in my little office. Speaking of that office… most of This Old House is decorated sort of in keeping with the feeling of country, old, comfy, rustic. This room has a totally different vibe. I chose blue as the accent for two reasons. My grandmother loved blue and all her decorating centered around it. I miss her still, all these years after she’s passed, and the hues remind me of her. Also, the kids and husband bought me that blue moon you see on the wall some years back while on vacation on Martha’s Vineyard. I saw it in the window of one of my favorite little shops. The colors and oldness attracted me to it, and the fact that we rarely go on vacation made it fitting, it must have been a Blue Moon that gots us all away together for a bit. The kids and husband bought it for me on the last day of our stay, it’s a reminder of love and family and the importance of taking time away from it all to just enjoy life. So I plotted the room vibe around Nana’s blues, the Blue Moon and the bohemian in me ( Love Those Shabby Chic Curtains!) My arts and crafts supplies are in the cabinet and dog beds are plentiful.
office?.. you say….
oh yes, the computer clutter is in the other corner. If you spot the little stuffed animals and are eye rolling just a little, you haven’t seen the four dragons hidden behind the printer. If I’m lucky enough to have grandchildren some day, they will have plenty of Grandmother’s toys to play with.
I’ve had jobs where I had to report to an office, where the work was more “cerebral”, where I got to wear grown-up clothes like heels and skirts and a smart suit, etc… where the pace of the day was at times chaotic, demanding, relentless, invigorating, exhausting, boring, and a few more words I’m not coming up with right now. I enjoyed most of my colleagues, and sometimes I miss the daily camaraderie, but most often I truly enjoy this slower pace of life.
My schedule is my own to create, the pay not in dollars (except for the editing.. thankful I’m paid for that) but in the very real satisfaction I get from tending to the critters in my care, (even the shit shoveling) the home my family lives, laughs and loves in, these fields we work that produce food for the table, hay for the horses – maybe even christmas trees for our holidays someday down the road if our new crop ever takes hold. I help with the family business when they need me… and thankfully, it’s enough.
I’m grateful for every day I get to do this, and to know I can do it all in Santa Pants is icing on the cake.
And you’ll know you’re on your path
I’ve been exercising more, which is a good thing, and I finished the painting of Opie, which I started last year after he passed on. It was just too sad to sit there reminded of him, so I left it unfinished for a long time. I’m no professional, my work is primitive for sure.. but I’m happy with the result and finishing it was therapeutic. And maybe that was because I was watching episodes of Outlander ( watching Jamie Fraser if I’m being totally honest) as I went along. The painting is of Opie standing under our ancient pear tree on a misty fall morning.
