A SUNDAY IN THE LIFE.
This completes the week of "Day in the Life" posts, but I can't imagine not doing more of these, or more double negatives, in the future. Anyhow, I give you the last day of our week: Sunday, August 10th.5:15 - 5:45 a.m.I wake up at my usual time, but unlike usual I lay in bed for thirty minutes. It's Sunday, which is technically supposed to be a day off of sorts, so I try not to feel the guilt self-employed people feel when they're doing something that is not work, when they're doing anything that doesn't lead to money. But I eventually get corrupted by that guilt anyway and get out of bed to do chores.5:45 - 6:15 a.m.I galumph slowly about the farm collecting firewood and kindling to get the fire going. As often happens on Sunday I feel fatigued and inhibited by Saturday, by the previous week, or by the season. This Sunday it is all three.6:15 - 7:30 a.m.Writing. I have articles due and blog posts I want to write and a whole host of other projects I'm insane for getting myself involved in as a farmer, but oh well. If you want something done, I tell myself often, give it to a busy person. Then I tell myself, "Now stop talking, I'm busy."7:30 - 7:45 a.m.I take a few minutes to listen to NPR's Weekend Edition because it has become tradition for Hannah and I to play the puzzle every week and for her to do infinitely better than me.7:45 - 8:45 a.m.The sky looks like rain so I decide to go ahead and move the goats. But honestly, I would be happy for it to dump rain all over me so long as some of that rain hits the ground, too. The rain cloud dissipates without raining.8:45 - 9:15 a.m.I drive up onto our neighbor's pasture to check email and such. Yep, our closest internet is about a mile away. But if nothing else, the views are exceptional––especially the view of me standing in a pasture holding my device into the air looking for reception.9:15 - 10:15 a.m.I consider taking the rare midmorning nap, but determine I should probably do some more writing instead. Or rather, the guilt determines this for me.10:15 - 11 a.m.A large, dark cloud begins to form in the Southeast so I decide at random to transplant a hundred and fifty rutabaga plants. I feel the pressure and excitement of racing this rain cloud and fly through the planting at blinding speeds. Rain drops begin to hit my head as I bury the last plant. Then suddenly, nothing happens. The rain cloud completely blows over the farm and I'm left standing there sweaty, dirty, and out of breath with an empty tray of rutabaga transplants in my hand. I walk back to the house and decide to listen to "Wait Wait Don't Tell Me" instead of crying. We need more rain in the next two days, or we're right back into a drought.11 - 12:15 p.m."Wait Wait Don't Tell Me." No crying. Brief nap.12:15 - 2:40 p.m.To celebrate our anniversary (which isn't technically until December) we go out for lunch at our favorite barbecue place in Tompkinsville called Frances. There we eat catfish and tater tots because that what the baby wants for lunch, and I don't argue with babies.2:40 - 4 p.m.I'm not entirely sure what happens in this time. There's some reading and talking and phone calls and kitties until the next thing I know it's four o'clock. Time doesn't always fly when you get older, sometimes it just flat out disappears.4 - 5:45 p.m.The guilt returns and to oblige it I go out into the garden, work up soil and transplant some cauliflower. The guilt becomes momentarily satisfied, a moment being about as long as it is ever satisfied.5:45 - 6:30 p.m.We go fetch water together from the spring and Hannah tells me about all of the things she's been reading on raising babies. Apparently babies like contrast in faces and that's why they tend to like guys with beards. This explains a lot for me. For a somewhat wild-looking and awkward person with a long beard and messy hair, I have always been a smash hit with babies. Who knew facial contrast was my best feature?6:30 - 7 p.m.Earlier in the day we had grabbed some lamb from the freezer so I do some writing and start thinking about dinner. My stomach joins in the thinking so I stop writing and get to work.7 - 9 p.m.I collect firewood, cook dinner and Hannah and I listen to "Sound Opinions" and "Radiolab" until we can no longer hold our heads up. It occurs to me that I mentioned four different NPR shows in this one post, and that's not including the snippets of "A Prairie Home Companion" or "On Being" or "Car Talk" or "This American Life" we heard in the day. It can never be understated how much we love our radio.9 p.m.Bed.
RABBIT SEASON.
Strangely enough, Jesse has a history with catching rabbits with his bare hands. After an incident at Bugtussle where he hopped off a tractor and snagged a bunny, he now chases after each and every rabbit we encounter with the hopes of repeating this miraculous feat. Well, yesterday, while I was down at the house writing a letter (hello Kristen!) I got a call from Jesse – “Hurry! Come up to the garden!” I rushed up the hill to find a little baby bunny in a bucket! Jesse had seen it while mowing, jumped off the tractor, and scooped it up! And as if this wasn’t weird enough…later, when back at the house, I heard a knock at the sidedoor and there stood Jesse – with ANOTHER bunny!It was pretty adorable getting to play with these little babies, especially since our rabbit Reba did NOT have her little ones. We don’t know if the breeder lied about her being pregnant, if they were simply mistaken, or if she has some complications…but her “kindling” date has come and gone. So, we will simply try again. And since rabbit gestation is only about 25 days – we shouldn’t have to wait very long!- Hannah.
THE BLOG LOOKS WEIRD, AND OTHER NEWS.
Ya'll. I have no idea why the blog looks so strange. For some reason, all of the crazy coding and html and nonsense that I spent so long trying to understand has just disappeared....so the blog became a complete jumble of words and posts and tabs. I was able to fix some of it, and will try to work on it soon....but we have been in the library for 3 hours now and mostly I just want to cry.ANYway. Surprise! We have a new addition to Rough Draft! This one was a necessity, however, as the mice situation inside of our house has been out of control lately. Meet Gladdie...our slightly cross-eyed, wheezing, snaggletoothed, and possibly blind kitten. Yeah, we know how to pick 'em.- Hannah.
