trust the spirit
after several weeks without taking a day off, i found myself a bit burnt, and extremely tired. rookie mistake, i know. scheduling days off, after years of strictly knowing five on-two off, is a skill yet to be breached, but newly on my radar. with no fuel in the tank, and a short, but important list of tasks, i looked elsewhere to find my motivation.
luckily, it was everywhere.
this is as close as we come to some real deal, yee-haw, cowboy antics. a three hundred yard cow move, bringing the herd home to welcome the new arrivals. we are taking advantage of this moment of integration—new steers—to accomplish a couple other things on the list. one, we are sending them from one side of the farm, all the way to the opposite end of the pasture—grass they haven’t grazed in many months. secondly, we are providing the herd with an exercise on running everyone to home base. never a bad thing to master.
for the first time in what feels like forever a substantial rain has fallen. in mid summer it seemed like the rain would never stop, and then just in time to get what we wished for, it hasn’t rained since.
bed rows at the vegetable farm are cracked over and crusty. pork chop hill has a dust cloud swirling over head. and the grass. well, let’s just call it thirsty.
all day today, the crack pop of thunder and the drip drap of rain lulled the town to a hushed pace—singing lullabies with the wind and painting the sky a heavy grey.
billy madison: hey carl, what’s up?
carl: nothing much billy. i see you got a little [mud] today
billy madison: you think so? i fell asleep by the [wallow] for a few hours.
carl: d’you fall asleep, or did you pass out?
billy madison: [aaaHARHARHAR] SHUT UP [<-press play]
I'm High On Cooking