Day One

I have a blog! I suppose this makes me like the thousands and thousands of others who have crept into the digital age- some reluctantly (testing with their big toes first), and others headlong and with a joyous 'whoop.' I think I fit somewhere in the middle. I will eventually dunk my head beneath the surface and fully commit, but for now I'm not far from my towel.

I harvested the last of my garden's abundance today. It's bittersweet, to be honest. I don't like walking past the sunken and nodding heads of the plants I nursed from infancy, but it's also hard to finally pull them up and commit them to the ground again. Ashes to ashes, compost to compost. Plus, as much as I love the produce (prepare for misplaced whining) I do not really have time to wash, cut, freeze, dehydrate, store, label, and otherwise fuss with anything else right now. I often wonder how many thousands of dollars in prime produce I have let go to waste for lack of gumption. Do I make up for all that when I boil chicken carcasses, literally getting all the good (right down to the marrow!) from each one? At least THERE I am not wasteful...

Anyway, my chickens got most of the good stuff out of the garden this year. In case you weren't aware, a dozen hens will jump a knee-high garden fence and devour tomatoes like they were some exotic delicacy. Then again, I guess compared to commercial chicken feed, they are. I am banking on tomato-flavored chicken meat come butchering time - think 'pre-marinating.' Should this method prove successful, I will plant mint in the pasture with the lambs first thing in the Spring.

We are expecting our first hard frost tonight, with possible snow in the forecast this week. The moon is waning, but still huge in the sky. I believe it is brighter on those nights when I can see my breath. The stars shine best in the cold, too, as if having to suffer a bit to stand and enjoy them makes them all the more enjoyable.

I am almost ready to go to bed. There is a part of me that wants to fret over having to turn on the heat so soon in the season. It wants to worry over the cost of coal and which of the girls will need a new winter coat. It wants to review all the things left to do before the cold sets in in earnest.

I think the real part of me (the best of me), knows, however, that my table full of freshly-picked produce means something far more significant than any worry I might have. It means that I truly don't have to fear for my household... Clothed in scarlet (or hand-me-down coats), we will be safe. We will be fed. We will be warmed. We will have love.

Plus, how can I worry over winter woes, when I am at least knee-deep in this new adventure? Who says we can't find our own ways to hold on to summer, even if only metaphorically?