I often wonder if industrial farmers have as many adventures and as much excitement as I do here on our tiny little farm. What a crazy time!
Maybe it’s because I have a two year old to provide me with a daily dose of perspective on life, or maybe my life is just a bit sillier than others . . . but either way it seems there is always something bizarre or beautiful happening around here.
I drove through my old neighbourhood yesterday on my way to a meeting downtown. Popped into my favourite bakery with the boy for our old regular treat, a french eclair.
The pangs of homesickness caught me by surprise. I can’t believe how much I miss it.
We have been blessed with absolutely glorious weather the last little while. The whole family is rosy-cheeked and my hubby and son have matching farmer’s tans. At the end of March?!!!
We have been making hay while the sun shines like crazy.
There have lots of small tasks completed in the last little while, and some enormous ones, too. We’re all sore and sleeping hard at night!
It has been a long winter here on Coghlan Cottage Farm.
We have had not one, but two, Pineapple Expresses in the last few weeks. Seems to me they’d be a lot more fun if they involved more pineapple, less rain. All told the two storms, one week apart, brought us nearly 12 inches of rain, on top of “regular” storms that have been regularly leaving us with 2-5 inches each.
Even for a native “Wet” Coaster like me, that’s a lot to take.
We’ve also had something like 60% less sunshine than normal this winter. Gah.
Add to that a lovely bout of morning sickness and a boy heading solidly into the terrible twos . . . Oh yes. It has been a long winter.
I’ve been lackadaisical with my writing lately.
Turns out my new wood-burning stove isn’t going to buy itself; that means more “real” work for Mama, less writing.
Just look at that fence! AHHHHH!!
We are brush-clearing MACHINES!
Of course, this kind of work usually reveals yet more work (like completely rotten fences) but that’s ok. It’s progress.
For a long time I’ve been lamenting the fact we didn’t get the farm earlier in the summer when we first saw it. Our Indian Summer provided nothing more than a tease, a flitting glimpse at what this place will be like during the months the sun actually appears.
Right now the farm is rainy and dark and . . . depressing. The coyotes grow bolder by the day (my son now does a good impression of me flailing and hollering down the driveway) and most of the farm has become one big mud puddle.
One benefit of moving in during the dark, wet days of winter is I’m not getting any sun, but neither are the weeds.