Sunday, March 12, 2017

Drunk on the Power of Full Time Homesteading

Spring hits me as hard as Fall does. When I could be enjoying-for just a brief moment-the emerging green grass or the flush of beautiful fresh eggs,  I am instead rushing mentally ahead making lists of all the tasks which must be done these next six months. This year, my level of HTA (homesteaders task anxiety) is particularly high. I reason that it is due to the shift in our roles here. I am now home a hefty part of the week, while Keith is working one full time job and one part time gig.

The "job" provides us with income. The time spent on the "gig", is bartered for animal feed. A decade ago I worked off farm and Keith was here (or there since we lived somewhere else), and I pretty much left the farm decisions up to him. I helped when I was home but bringing in the cash and keeping up with household stuff, was my domain. Now, the house, the homemaking, my writing, a good ahre of outdoor animal chores, and soon enough, the garden, will all be my primary focus.

While concerned with how it will all get done, and it never does, does it?, I'm feeling a bit drunk with the power. I imagine that while Keith is at work I could...

  Rearrange all the fences to allow for lovely pathways through the property
  Construct adorable pasture gates out of bent willow branches and old jewelry.
  Paint all the out-buildings a matching shade of lavender.
  Attach flower boxes outside the chicken coop.
  Teach myself to weld and turn all our metal garbage into charming fake flowers or reptiles
          or garden gnomes!
  Pile all the burnables into a big hill and have the most awesome bonfire where my female friends
          and I will drink dandelion wine and dance nak...never mind.
  Build a village of treehouses or old campers for our grandchildren to hang out in.

First though, I'll have to deal with the fact that I don't have the same building, welding, repairing skills my husband has, and there is still, despite my loud letters of complaint, only 24 hours in the day.

If I jump into the above outdoor fantasies, I'll have to give up the cooking, food prep, laundry, writing, helping out with grandkid babysitting things I am currently neck deep in. Not to mention, but ok, I will, all the outdoor projects. Like the new milk house that must be built this summer.

What to do, what to do. How do you all structure your time? Have you given up sleep entirely or have you self actualized to the point that you can enjoy a cup of tea without filling a notebook with more "to-do" items. How do you find real peace, and how do you make it last longer than ten seconds?

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