Nothing to Say

I’m not sure what to write about. This rarely happens. Generally, one big thing sticks in my mind and that is the thing I need to get on paper. To work out. To resolve, in 200 words or so.

This week is different. It feels like so much is coming at me that no one thing resonates any louder than the next. So instead of trying to wrestle with a single idea I’ve decided to simply write out what’s going on. Here we go….

Feral cats appeared on the farm. Three tiny kittens.

They feed off the chicken scraps. I’m certain they’ll be eaten by predators but in the mean-time I need to trap them, get them fixed and vaccinated. Not sure when that will happen.

The perennial garden that I worked on for months has gotten away from me. Its clogged with weeds. I’m not sure how to recover it. It is my garden of shame.

The fall seeding starts next week. What to plant into the new high tunnel, what to plant into the field. So much to learn in four weeks.

Casey and I go into the bee yard on Friday. God, I pray, there are still bees.

Every day I find myself saying “next year I’ll do….” I’m practicing trying to say, “tomorrow I’ll do….”

Coyotes are killing the chickens. I wish I raised Doug, the dog, as the outside dog, as I’d intended to. But I can’t bear the thought of him not being in the bed at night.

How am I going to control the Johnson grass, pigweed, pokeweed, ragweed?

I am grateful for the volunteers. Grateful that they’ve stayed with me for an entire season. Grateful for their energy and perseverance and wisdom. Just damn grateful.

The farm has been filled with young people lately. WWOOFers, friends of WWOOFers, employees, volunteers. Their laughter is intoxicating but their energy and drama is draining. I’m grateful not to be in my twenties.

The clueless couple who, without asking, marched into the sunflower field and started shooting selfies reminds me that I need to put up that obnoxious government liability sign.

My ideal vacation is a cabin in the woods with complete solitude. Ironic living in an old farm house without television or radio. Is it the farm or my head I’m hoping to escape?

I can’t wait for next year. I’m already choosing seed varieties. Plotting and Planning.

The second load of firewood is delivered tomorrow. Time to insulate the outside pipes and test the heat tape.

All good things are happening. The farm, and my life, is a dream come true. Now, how to I slow down enough to enjoy it?

I’d love to hear what’s on your mind these days. Thank you for reading, for sharing and for giving me such encouragement and strength.

And, as always, thanks for stopping by,

Carolyn

#FarmLife