Sick Kid, Sick Woman, Storm on the Way!
In other news, I am sick. Really sick. The kind of once-every-three years sick that has you shaking under covers, freebasing gatorade and out of breath from walking across the room. It hit me last night, and it hit fast. I came home from a mile jog feeling amazing, did my evening chores, came inside to dinner and a bottle of hard cider and then promptly threw it all up. After that it was like someone flipped a health switch. I went cold, needed a leash to the bathroom, and felt like a truck sideswiped my sternum. So I'm laying low, sleeping as much as possible between chores, and checking the weather like an obsessive compulsive. Because, dear friends, a storm is on the way
Last week it was sunny, warming up, muddy and fifty degrees. This morning during milking it was ten degrees in the barn. Weather reports are calling for a humble snowfall of around five inches, just enough to demand vigilance. Anything over three inches mean roofs must be raked and paths shoveled. And I'm not complaining or in need of any sort of pity, I find all this invigorating! To be down and out and change gears to still take care of a place is a road to wellness in itself. I like that when I get down the farm keeps going, not allowing any sort of rest. This place is bigger than me and needs me even when I am a little scruffier than usual. It makes me feel needed, and that makes me feel better. A sick girl with a mission is a girl on the mend!
So I keep at it, just slower. I am prepared with enough firewood and such to stay warm and rest up. I am not overwhelmed by the farm(I just do chores all day, and slower, instead of two power sessions morning and night). I feel okay about it. I had several friends call or offer help with chores: folks from Saratoga, Massachusetts, and just up the road! That kind of community makes me feel so much better in itself. But, honestly, I think I have it under control. But it sure felt good to get those offers in the first place. If this was food poisoning like back in 2010 I would be laying rose petals at their feet. I'm just down with the everyday flu or Noroviris. Some tea, rest, slower work days, and lots of sleep will set me right.
So snow is on the way, probably the last hurrah of winter before peas go into the ground and lambs start hopping down the hillside. I'm grateful to be forced inside with books and a tea for the big show. I'll go out and do chores here and there, no creature will go without food or water or a proper place to bed down for the storm. I'll be with Gibson, who has my back in every sense. I love that dog and need him more than I ever realized. He never became the trial champion I had originally planned for, instead he became a farm manager and best friend. And last night when four quilts wasn't enough to stop the shaking his warmth next to me under the covers was.