transition

The sun is out for the first time in a long while. The new dump of snow we had this past few days is soft and wet over the ice. The depths vary with the location and where the wind threw it. My calves and their Moms were out in the paddock this morning. Pojangles is the lead pushing out, huge back legged to the furthest reaches, the herd running behind him.
I caught him chewing the electric line. So I lured them back into the barn, tightened up the connections to the energizer and used the wet hay strand trick to find out what was wrong. Thankfully, the old "fencelines are fun to chew" imprint didn't quite settle, because he got a good zap on his pink nose when I let them back out.
I worked nearby, shovelling the snow off from around the base of the hoophouse so I can get the plastic up on her. I'll be able to move my onions in a week or 2, so I can plant the next batch of things under the lights in the potting house.

There are so many things to do and yet the snow is still very ample, the river frozen solid. Yet the sun and the big drips off the buildings today and the presence of my garden under the white stirred some motivation.

I can't imagine having the capacity to write 2 and 3 posts daily, as I had been doing this winter and expect there will be a seasonal rhythm to the blogging. There are too many things to do on the farm and the topics I want/need to write about (apart from my farming) appear to take the kind of time and attention that I don't have if I am to devote myself fully to the farm. It is almost time.

Its a bit scary, a little daunting:those 60-75 hr weeks. The uncertainty of a new garden in a new community.

So in this small window before the full warm bustling of the season, I want to think about how I can be a blogger through the spring and summer and if it is even possible. I do know that I can't be writing about just the ripening of peas and the escaping of cows (farm stuff); I need to write too about the social/political context that I find myself farming within.