And so it continues. Dawn -- up to release the chickens and clean the coop...
(good morning, Scotch!)
... then breakfast.
(zebra stripes!)
I feel like an entrenched farmer. The routines cannot vary. So long as there are chickens at the farmette, they must be tended in this way.
To some, it may seem like a brutal imposition. But of course, if you have a dog, you must walk her. Clean up after her. Feed her. Play with her. Chickens require less of you, but it is imperative that you are there to release them and lock them up again. Small jobs, but jobs they are.
(Oreo, doing his cockadoodledoo)
As Ed continues to work on the poor old disabled Zero-turn mower, I return to the raspberry patch. You will hear a lot of this: work on the raspberry patch. It's probably our biggest project. We've been at it for more than a year and it still has many many weeks of digging, weeding, ripping, chipping to go. The hope is that it wont be a terribly high maintenance area once we have finished our work there.
(the hens in their afternoon snooze mode)
There are, each day, new items that we squeeze in between the big projects: yesterday I sowed the arugula and endive beds. Today we planned the new asparagus patch and began work there. Every day is like this and I have to warn you that we haven't even hit May yet which, for me, is the most intense gardening month of the year.
So what about my writing? Is it on hold?
Not exactly. The beauty of outdoor work is that clears the mind and it requires little effort to come in, sit down and do a review or addition to an ongoing project (for example The Book). Teaching left me depleted at the end of the day. Outdoor work frees my thoughts and dehumidifies my mind. It's very (intellectually) refreshing.
Still, I am a bit stalled on The Book, as I have an interim writing project before me (more on that in mid-May) and so most often I take that out and spend some time musing over the direction it should take.
It's all very leisurely and stress-free and this, of course, is the most beautiful part of retirement. The world around me is a very calm place indeed.
Calm, but not without excitement. Of the type where the chickens have learned to fly out of the pen, for example. But that's tomorrow's issue. Today, as the rain clouds drift in, the world is a quiet place.
(good morning, Scotch!)
... then breakfast.
(zebra stripes!)
I feel like an entrenched farmer. The routines cannot vary. So long as there are chickens at the farmette, they must be tended in this way.
To some, it may seem like a brutal imposition. But of course, if you have a dog, you must walk her. Clean up after her. Feed her. Play with her. Chickens require less of you, but it is imperative that you are there to release them and lock them up again. Small jobs, but jobs they are.
(Oreo, doing his cockadoodledoo)
As Ed continues to work on the poor old disabled Zero-turn mower, I return to the raspberry patch. You will hear a lot of this: work on the raspberry patch. It's probably our biggest project. We've been at it for more than a year and it still has many many weeks of digging, weeding, ripping, chipping to go. The hope is that it wont be a terribly high maintenance area once we have finished our work there.
(the hens in their afternoon snooze mode)
There are, each day, new items that we squeeze in between the big projects: yesterday I sowed the arugula and endive beds. Today we planned the new asparagus patch and began work there. Every day is like this and I have to warn you that we haven't even hit May yet which, for me, is the most intense gardening month of the year.
So what about my writing? Is it on hold?
Not exactly. The beauty of outdoor work is that clears the mind and it requires little effort to come in, sit down and do a review or addition to an ongoing project (for example The Book). Teaching left me depleted at the end of the day. Outdoor work frees my thoughts and dehumidifies my mind. It's very (intellectually) refreshing.
Still, I am a bit stalled on The Book, as I have an interim writing project before me (more on that in mid-May) and so most often I take that out and spend some time musing over the direction it should take.
It's all very leisurely and stress-free and this, of course, is the most beautiful part of retirement. The world around me is a very calm place indeed.
Calm, but not without excitement. Of the type where the chickens have learned to fly out of the pen, for example. But that's tomorrow's issue. Today, as the rain clouds drift in, the world is a quiet place.
ah, you found the embedded option for comments. I love it already. Great, great photos of your hens and especially Oreo crowing away. Looking forward to all your May planting. And so very good to read how calm and leisurely your new life feels! Splendid!
ReplyDeleteYes, it took me a while, but I do love the ability to respond individually!
DeleteI like the change in the comment page. Retirement does sound tempting, although I think you accomplish three times as much as I expect to, or intend to...or want to! Some of us run on a lower idle. :)
ReplyDeleteHey, I've felt pretty idle these past months! I cannot recommend retirement highly enough...
DeleteSo, if the chickens can fly out the top of the coop, what next? A roof? It would help to stop any hawks from dive-bombing down in there... but then there's always the time they are totally "free ranging" around the place. I see you have it just about under control now and it's lovely reading how your retirement is unfolding. Which one of us would have predicted it would have included five chickens six months ago? Not I... xxxx
ReplyDeleteRemember -- there is a coop inside the fenced pen. Once locked for the night inside the coop, they're stuck there and no one can enter. The pen is the fence around the coop. THey can fly out of that. Ed says we hardly need the fence these days -- they are so attached to the coop that they always retreat at night. Me, I want the fence for the times (daughter's wedding comes to mind) when I don't want chickens underfoot, even as I wouldn't want to lock them up in a tight little coop. If we had a bigger coop (house), I'd be less concerned about a fence, but their coop is tiny. The fence also does offer protection from daytime predators. Hawks wont swoop down into areas that are shaded by low growing trees. They're safe from hawks and coyotes in the fenced area. For raccoon protection, they need the coop for the night. More than you wanted to know, right? :)
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