My dear friends, it has been a while since the last update, aside from the Thanksgiving delirium that is. The past few weeks have been a roller-coaster of exhaustion, excitement, meltdowns, and hope. Mostly exhaustion, in every form you can think of. There are days when I feel completely engaged by the mission of this farm, amused by the animals, or enthusiastic about improvements. But the lifestyle and expectations here are taking their toll, I miss my dear friends and family, and am frustrated by the amount of my energy this job demands. It is my life, period. But being here has forced me to push myself in ways I haven't in a long time, driven me to re-imagine the future. I think I will leave here stronger, more confident in quite basic ways, more alive, with more clarity about my priorities, and more urgency to live a life packed full of activity. You see, the busy lifestyle here is not what I object to - I've really grown to appreciate it - but the isolation is sucking my spirit dry - I am realizing just how much I love people, how I miss making strangers smile, and being energized by a new connection. I just like people too much to be a farmer. That said, I am determined to really immerse myself now - no more wavering - to absorb as much as I can while I'm here, to contribute as much as I am able, with a plan of leaving in May at the latest, to return to my beloved city living.

So much has changed over the past few weeks. It seems obvious that this constant state of transition would be inherent of farming and living so connected to and dependent on the forces of nature, but it is fascinating to experience, and something that has taken quite a while to get used to. You just have to be ready for anything, expect things to go wrong, and learn to react quickly and adjust to surprises. Yes, this is true in life in general, but seems more pronounced and extreme here. A perfect example of this would be the lovely surprise last week of a newborn calf, born out in the pasture. The ground is freezing, the vegetables have nearly stopped growing, temperatures dropping as low as zero degrees fahrenheit overnight, but a few simple joys are all that's needed to lift the spirit. And I got two Monday morning: a fresh dusting of snow, and taking time to watch a newborn calf get a feel for his world. So it turns out that six more cows are unexpectedly pregnant, apparently from a very busy bull Ug, who was thought to be infertile, and who we happen to have been eating since I arrived. One of the cows is in the early stages of labor as I write this. The owner/farmer is still figuring out what to do with all these calving mamas, and will likely have to move some, as we probably won't have the resources to take care of them. But it seems we will keep at least one or two. In order to justify the extra labor and feed necessary to maintain mama cows in the winter, we will be milking them and selling the milk, and making cheese and/or yogurt to sell as well, and to eat here of course. I have already learned how to milk a cow, pasteurize the milk (which we may or may not continue to do), and make mozzarella cheese. This is all quite time-consuming - the milking in the morning takes about an hour for a gallon of milk, and they are also fed in the evening. Every few days the milk will be processed and that takes a couple hours. Plus, now that it's winter, the whole herd of cows are fed in the morning to make up for the lack of forage left in the pasture. Between the cows and the chickens, the entire morning is consumed with animal chores (which, by the way, are surprisingly exhausting - feed bags weigh 50 lbs and bales of hay are as big as me!), leaving only an hour or so each afternoon for other projects. It will be interesting to see what happens when we have to harvest again - fortunately we had the week off for Thanksgiving. Plus we have another farm helper moving here December 10th who is excited about and somewhat experienced in taking care of animals, so that will be a huge help.

Theoretically, the winter allows time for projects that are impossible when harvest and planting monopolize the daily routine, and hopefully we'll have the time and resources to get to some we've started planning. There are the mundane tasks that simply need to get done, like cleaning up the garden beds that have been harvested, organizing and storing irrigation tape and row-covers and such to be ready to use again in the spring. I'll be researching insulating fabric to buy (recommendations anyone?) and making curtains for our bedrooms, as well as the windows of the main house. The main winter project is fixing up the kitchen in the strawbale house (the one the apprentices stay in). Up until now it has been used for processing produce and milk, but we'll be shifting that to another area, punching a whole in the wall for a new door, routing new plumbing for the relocated work sink, adding a raised floor over the plumbing, painting, finishing the kitchen floor, adding cabinets/counters, and of course setting up everything. I have no idea how we will find time to do all of this, but it is nice to be able to contribute things I've learned in the past to help out here, rather than constantly needing to be taught things. So, we shall see how the winter shapes up. One thing I'm sure of is that it will be very, very busy.