The rhythm of it all is coming together. It'll change, of course: in a month, the livestock manager is leaving and we'll be taking over the animal chores, and spring will finally come and then summer, and the blood will rise in our veins and the sun will rise earlier and earlier, and heat and growth will take over.
But for now, we are finding a rhythm of grey skies, boiling sap, mucking pens, and baking bread. We've each secured off-farm jobs -- the apprenticeship is only half-time -- and much stress has been lifted with the infusion of a little dependable income. (We can buy groceries now! Horray!)
But for now, we are finding a rhythm of grey skies, boiling sap, mucking pens, and baking bread. We've each secured off-farm jobs -- the apprenticeship is only half-time -- and much stress has been lifted with the infusion of a little dependable income. (We can buy groceries now! Horray!)