a cold antler morning

While the coffee is heating up on the stove, and the farm is waking up, I thought I'd check in. Two eggs I collected last night are frying in a pan, and right now I can hear Chuck Klosterman crowing outside. He's usually the middle man of the roosters. Always running from the cabin down to the stream and back to check on his girls. The other boys stay at their posts, but not Chuck. He owns that stretch.

The hive is lost. The bear came back the past three nights and not only destroyed my entire box, but took out my neighbor's Chris and Katie's hives as well. It was a bear rampage around here. And last night I took Jazz with me on my farm rounds. I just feel safer with a wolf at my side, even if all he would do is lunge and howl if a bear did show up. I am very happy to say the sheep, birds, bunnies and garden are all safe as houses.

The day should prove beautiful. The forecast calls for 80 degree weather, a first for the season, and I am chomping at the bit to get into that garden. So far the rhubarb, peas, salad greens and some early potatoes are already poking out between the straw-lined rows. Today I'll be planning the broccoli and onion garden and getting it ready for started plants next weekend. Soon every day will be spent among those leafy rows. To look from the raised beds and see a sheep trot by, watch a goose waddle into the coop, or see a robin land on the grass... all little things, but there's nothing bigger.

I like these weekends where the whole goal is to just work. I know I have things to prepare, and by nightfall I'll feel whipped from tha hand tools and long hours--but tonight I'll have that hammock and some ibuprofen and sway. And with a banjo in my lap and the Vermont stars above me everything solid a few feet below will feel better all the better when my bare feet finally decide to return to land.

Have a great weekend guys. Plant something. But first, enjoy some coffee. Which is what I'm going to do right now.