Sunday was one of those gray, misty days without shadows. The prospect of rain was hovering over us, and we went out early and worked until the first drops began splattering down. I weeded the fruit trees and mulched them. Moving the old hay into the wheelbarrow with a pitchfork gave me an odd sense of Deja Vu. Of course I’ve done that kind of thing before, but this was different. I’m not sure what it means.
I had an epiphany the other day while I was doing the same task. It’s fairly repetitive, and making sure I’ve scraped up every good bit of old, moldy hay and manure almost gives me a headache in the same way that tedious, focused tasks always do. Things like counting stitches on a gauge swatch for knitting. Or carefully ripping out messed-up stitches of a sewing project. De-pilling a sweater. Picking lots of hay out of Mirin’s hair. Those kinds of things. My back was hurting, and it felt like toiling. My goodness, I thought to myself. Some people pay good money to do things like this in a gym. What if I were taking a funky dance class right now? Or if I were working on my upper body sculpting for the sake of vanity? Totally different mind-set. It made me laugh to myself and totally changed the way my back and shoulders were all tensed up. I have cultural mindset issues about good, honest work.
Speaking of which, Ethan made lots of progess on his holiday vacation. Three new chicken coops, which will soon house our new poultry for the year. A new batch of layers (we only have six of the old hens left – I’ve been buying eggs. I’m such a difficult customer, too, I don’t like any of the ones in the store). Then our meat birds for the year, and a batch of turkeys for the holidays.