Dear World Hunger Relief,
For all the hours of sunshine; for the patience to walk along side me as I grew; for the enlightenment and encouragement; for every hour of earned sleep and every bite of earned food; for the breaking down of numerous walls and the building up of uncountable strengths; for being the best model of heaven I have yet encountered; for the creation of best friends; for biceps and hamstrings; for lentils and quinoa; for these past nine months;
thank you.
Ellie
World Hunger Relief, Inc.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Saturday, April 5, 2008
One week before farm day and the farm simmers. (It does! Or, well, not exactly. Its a metaphor! Geez.) We have so much to do! So many goings on!
I am going to tell you a story:
This morning I was quite rudely reminded that spring is a season of transition as I shivered up the road. Will and I walked up the dark lane with our hands thrust deep in our pockets, shoulders hunched to keep warm. We both had somewhat fitful nights of sleep. I was in Dallas yesterday and drove home late, getting to bed at about 1 am only to awaken at about 5:45 am from the cold. Will is suffering from an extremely nasty case of poison ivy (I believe this may be the much looked for pandemic... or at least the farmdemic. Whatever. We all have it, some more than others.) and so woke up scratching as one is wont to do when one has the dreaded PI.
We are only milking five goats at the moment so after a quick milk, (Milking? Milky?) I glanced at my timepiece and, at 7:05, I think we set some sort of milking record. We cleaned up quickly and, after wrestling the goats out to pasture (you think I'm kidding) and saying "Hello!" to the moms and kids, I left Will to milk out the moms and proceeded down the road to feed our rabbity friends. After about fifteen minutes of hacking at the freezing, wet grass with a machete I realized that I no longer had my timepiece or, in normal speak, my phone had fallen out of my pocket.
Now, the farm is a big place with lots of places where a phone could fall and be lost amongst manure of all kinds. I was worried. I retraced my steps, sweeping the wet grass around the barn, the gross hay in the kid barn, and then walking through the clover and rye grass which fills our pastures, getting wet to the knees, my shoes full of water.
I did not find my phone.
However, this afternoon the sun came out as it tends to do on the miraculous April days. Miriam and Jessica were kind enough to accompany me on an excursion to find my phone. We used one of these:
We here at the farm believe in appropriate technology so when the time comes to find your keys or your cell phone amongst the grasses and gardens, a metal detector is the way to go!
Unfortunately, it barely works, but we found it anyway. Timepiece successfully recovered!
el fin.
P.S. FARM DAY IS COMING!!!! FARM DAY IS COMING!!!! FARM DAY IS COMING!!!! ONE WEEK FROM TODAY!!!! GET READY!!!! (Oh, and bring cash or check because Peter has been doing some amazing things with the store and you are going to regret it if you don't.)
I am going to tell you a story:
This morning I was quite rudely reminded that spring is a season of transition as I shivered up the road. Will and I walked up the dark lane with our hands thrust deep in our pockets, shoulders hunched to keep warm. We both had somewhat fitful nights of sleep. I was in Dallas yesterday and drove home late, getting to bed at about 1 am only to awaken at about 5:45 am from the cold. Will is suffering from an extremely nasty case of poison ivy (I believe this may be the much looked for pandemic... or at least the farmdemic. Whatever. We all have it, some more than others.) and so woke up scratching as one is wont to do when one has the dreaded PI.
We are only milking five goats at the moment so after a quick milk, (Milking? Milky?) I glanced at my timepiece and, at 7:05, I think we set some sort of milking record. We cleaned up quickly and, after wrestling the goats out to pasture (you think I'm kidding) and saying "Hello!" to the moms and kids, I left Will to milk out the moms and proceeded down the road to feed our rabbity friends. After about fifteen minutes of hacking at the freezing, wet grass with a machete I realized that I no longer had my timepiece or, in normal speak, my phone had fallen out of my pocket.
Now, the farm is a big place with lots of places where a phone could fall and be lost amongst manure of all kinds. I was worried. I retraced my steps, sweeping the wet grass around the barn, the gross hay in the kid barn, and then walking through the clover and rye grass which fills our pastures, getting wet to the knees, my shoes full of water.
I did not find my phone.
However, this afternoon the sun came out as it tends to do on the miraculous April days. Miriam and Jessica were kind enough to accompany me on an excursion to find my phone. We used one of these:
We here at the farm believe in appropriate technology so when the time comes to find your keys or your cell phone amongst the grasses and gardens, a metal detector is the way to go!
Unfortunately, it barely works, but we found it anyway. Timepiece successfully recovered!
el fin.
P.S. FARM DAY IS COMING!!!! FARM DAY IS COMING!!!! FARM DAY IS COMING!!!! ONE WEEK FROM TODAY!!!! GET READY!!!! (Oh, and bring cash or check because Peter has been doing some amazing things with the store and you are going to regret it if you don't.)
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