Wednesday, August 18, 2010
We had not been to this farm for four years even though it is a short drive from our home. It sits on top of a ridge and the approach is a dirt road past old barns and equipment and through apple trees. It feels like a trip back in time. There is a farm stand with a friendly teenager reading Steinbeck. The rooster crows. The ancient Copper Beech behind the stand is even more enormous every time I see it whereas some other things seem to shrink with time. Aside from freaking out over yellowjackets on fallen peaches it was just right.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Monday, August 2, 2010
When my sister and I were about the ages of my sons my mother used to go down to the barn and sit in the late afternoon sun and knit while the chickens milled around her. I thought she was a tad loony. I don't know if she felt the way I feel today but now I Get It. This was one of those days she probably had a lot. I feel sapped by motherhood, sapped by taking care of...fill in the blank. I really just want to take my knitting down to the coop and knit with the chickens and have everybody leave me alone. And get some simple sunshine. And do something where I can see the immediate outcome of my work. And have complete thoughts of my own. While the only noise is peaceful clucking and the occasional comical crow. Nobody asking why they can't do teen rated games. Nobody asking why they still HAVE to be in the booster seat they hate. Nobody pushing me at all. Just sunshine and knitting and chickens.