Farmer Blessings

Russian Sage
Russian Sage could be my new pen-name!

My muse this morning is “How best to live each day?”  I try to answer for myself:  It is about forward thinking and respecting the past.  It is about honesty.  It is about peace-keeping.  

The farmer’s life is full of challenge, distress, and without a doubt, reward to the passionate.  Someone asked me how I had time to blog with all of the duties of the farm, but I said “they write themselves.”  If you walk around in my shoes all day, every step in the means of upkeep around here is an inspired step.  Even when it is a limping step because you accidentally met a honeybee’s stinger with your pinky toe the day before!

I visited my neighbors'(hereafter referred to as “Farmer McGregor”) drop-dead-gorgeous gardens yesterday afternoon.  I was on the edge of depression and awe as I walked around with my lovely daughters, harvesting their prolific eggplant patch and their large-measure-of-leek patch.  Such generous and kind neighbors to have invited us at anytime to drop in and reap the bounty.  Well, aside from the adorably appointed outbuildings and gorgeous gardens, we were tickled when greeted by the bustling Buffs and Barred Rocks as we entered their Eden.

cabbage from Mr. McGregor's garden

our McGregor-cabbage

my eggplant crop this year

a sampling of Farmer McGregor's eggplant crop

Farmer McGregor's leeks

a sampling of Farmer McGregor's leeks

It was such a nice visit and I joked with my daughters that it would do me no good to have such beautiful gardens.  You wouldn’t be able to live with me because I’d be such a boaster!  They said, “You’d blog about it, mom!”  True.

But this morning I think about this golden October day and how I get to spend the entirety of it right here.  I’m so excited to knock yet a few more things off of the list.  There is a pasture to create behind the barn to move the horses to.  There is some undoing of the duck house to find out if the young biddies I’d been raising to help replace some old layers are hiding eggs on me.  And I need to finish a little barn-work where stall bedding is concerned.  Too late to worry about weeds, being that it has frosted and all.  I am happy to not have that guilt-cloud hanging over me for the rest of the year.  No, indeed, I think I’ll just plant some bulbs and tuck them in with a bedtime song for winter.

As with any occupation in which you are fortunate enough to be able to pursue your passion, there are highs and lows.  Today, be it a farmer or a toll-booth attendee, make it a pledge to look ’em in the eye, smile and give them a good reason to pass that support along.