Wednesday, April 10, Bull Brook Keep
6:30 AM – dragged myself out of bed – yeah, I slept in. Slipped my feet into house shoes while Cathy Wurzer gave me an earful on the state-of-the-world according to MPR.
Usual morning ablutions followed by routine stretches and crunches.
Hefted a basket of laundry to the utility room, started up a load, and picked up a set of clean sheets from the linen closet as I made my way back to the bedroom.
Note to self: sheets are getting really threadbare. Need a couple of new sets. Boy, that’s going to set me back.
2018-2019 winter fog
Thick fog blankets the farm, can’t even make out the cattle.
Note to self: gotta wash the windows.
Recollection — I’d never really seen thick fog before I got to the Upper Midwest; It’s just not something you notice much in the middle of New York City. It was in Duluth, Minnesota, the San Francisco of the North, that I fell in love with fog. I was a young TV/radio reporter, and this ground cloud felt miraculous. I remember driving my VW Bug into walls of pale gray as I snaked down from the hillsides above the city to the roads along the Lake Superior shore. Was it dangerous? I guess, but I loved being wrapped in it just the same. Still do.
Brewed a pot of tea. Sweetened and creamed it.
Note to self: need more half-and-half. Oh, and I need organic brown rice. Totally out — unacceptable. Also, out of carrots — unthinkable.
8:30 AM — Set the hot mug by my computer and opened up a couple of new documents. Dave and I are coordinating a staff evaluation effort for a nonprofit. Time to move the process to its next step. That’ll mean about 90 minutes generating and discussing the latest phase in the process.
Note to self: It took 4 hours. Sigh.
Put one load in the dryer and started another in the washer. Made Dave and myself a quick breakfast of eggs and toast.
11:00 AM – For the second day in a row, Dave heads to the south fence line to brush out bushes and saplings while the weather’s cool and before leaves appear. A huge, physical job.
2:00 PM — My seat is killing me and my eyes are squinty from staring at the computer screen. Time to get outside and count up how many wood posts and how many metal t-posts I’ll need over the next several weeks, aka fencing season.
It always takes longer than I think it will. I restrung low-tensile fence while I was walking the lines. I need 50 or more t-posts, a good dozen wooden posts. Maybe another half-mile of wire.
I join Dave along the south fence line to help him pull together piles of the branches he’d cut down the last couple of days. Mine was a very small contribution.
Dave used the skid steer, equipped with the grapple (massive metal claws), to lift the branches off the road and onto our farm property.
Siggy kept me company, digging through hay piles and nosing holes. He’d wander off every once in a while but always stayed within view.
Although the temp wasn’t too bad, a couple of hours in the stiff wind made me very happy I’d worn a hat, wrapped a scarf, and pulled on long johns.
5:00 PM —Now to move some hay before the storm hits.
Thank you, God, again, for the warm clothes, house, and equipment.
8:00 PM – Made dinner (oven-fried chicken and steamed broccoli), and the snow started. Dave and I watched some Netflix.
Note to self: I need to quit slouching in the armchair; I’m giving myself a chronic backache. New chair?
10:35 PM — I finish up the few dishes left in the sink and wash off kitchen counters. I lock the doors.
Note to self: Before hitting the sack, write down all the things that need to be done tomorrow. Trying to keep everything in my brain is exhausting and risky.
11:05 PM — I flipped off the lights. To bed.
