Things have taken a big turn here on our little farm with me going back to work.
In a lot of ways being back at work full time is blessing – hello electricity!
But in other ways it is so so different.
I pulled up my blog tonight and just stared at it. It has been such a big part of my homesteading journey. I started the blog not long after I got my first set of chickens, when I had no idea what on earth I was doing with homesteading and blogging (well who are we kidding I still don’t know) and it has been there as an outlet, a journal, and a recipe box serving its purpose 2 or 3 times a week for 2 years. Even when I wasn’t writing I was always fiddling with the theme or the pictures or the background work that makes a blog so much fun but so much work all at the same time (it isn’t all about the writing believe it or not!). But tonight it felt like a long lost friend that I haven’t seen in years. It is safe to say that I have missed it.
Until I sat down to write and couldn’t come up with a dang thing.
I know I owe you some recipes, and I promise I will post some soon. What’s a food blog without recipes? Jeepers April get with it.
That has been my mantra for the past 2 weeks: Jeepers April get with it.
In the morning when I get out of bed at 5:10 instead of 5 and then I’m just running behind the entire day. Jeepers April get with it!
Or when I go to milk Phoebe and I forget the milk bucket. Or the grain. Or heck even Phoebe. Jeepers April get with it!
Or I’m at work and walk into the freezer 29,857 times and haven’t got a clue what I went in there for by the time I get there. Jeepers April get with it!
Or I get clumsy and accidentally take the trim off the side of a cake with my elbow. Jeepers April get with it!
I could go on, but I’m sure you’re sick of reading Jeepers April get with it. Probably about as sick of reading it as I am saying it to myself.
The truth is things are different now, and as much as I despise getting out of bed early the mornings are my favourite time of the day. I’m in my Levi’s with my hair still wet from the shower or pulled back in a messy bun, with my farm boots on and a thick sweater. There’s the smell of hay and the birds singing as the night starts to fade away. There’s Phoebe munching on her grain and the familiar sound of the milk hitting the stainless steel bucket. On the really chilly mornings little puffs of steam come up from the milk each time fresh is squeezed into the bucket. And I soak it in. Every last moment. Those few quiet minutes sitting in the shop next to Phoebe is the best time of the day. Those are the moments that remind me that this chapter isn’t forever. That my day job doesn’t define who I am and that this is who I am. I don’t care if there is poop on my jeans. I don’t care if my coat smells like goat. I don’t care that pretty much everyone doesn’t get why I would get up so early do all my barn chores, work a full time job, come home and do housework, more barn chores, laundry, dinner and dishes only to flop into bed exhausted and get up and do it all over again.
I know why I do it. I know why I’m here. This is my life. This is what makes me feel complete. I just need some time to figure out how to make it all work. And it is more important now than ever before. Because there is more baby goats due on Sunday. More good meals to be shared and devoured. More chicken snuggles to be had after a hard day. And more coffee to be sipped in between the rush that is now my life, lest I loose myself again in the hollow pit that is my day job.
My life as I know it. Completely different but also so much the same.