“…your time will come…”
My father-in-law is credited with this oft-repeated phrase from family lore. And, although I never heard him utter the words (he died tragically when the Boss was in high school, long before I came onto the scene), I have heard it countless times over the years. Countless. Honestly, it’s not always my favorite thing.
Biding my time, waiting, being patient…definitely not one of my strong suits.
But, much of LIFE is about just biding time.
This week being a perfect example.
Last weekend’s “cold-thing” became a full-blown ailment that sidelined me to the couch for the better part of the week. And, while I graduated from mindlessly watching Netflix for days, I am still in a serious relationship with the tissue box and I sound a little like a German Shepherd when I cough. There is really nothing you can do to make a cold go away any faster…just wait it out.
“…your time (of feeling better) will come”.
And, that’s enough of my cold.
|farm in November|
|aside from the rain...|
notice anything different?
This week saw some serious changes on the hill that are noticeable as soon as you pull in the drive. I didn’t realize just how different the landscape would be without hoophouse #2.
|the last day of hoophouse #2|
We’ve been talking about making some changes for some time. Downsizing, as it were. And, hoophouse #2 had been a big part of that discussion. For the past couple of seasons, we haven’t fully utilized it. The design means that the plastic doesn’t have a long life (and has to be replaced far too often), the location means that light and air circulation was an issue…and the ongoing battles with the blasted “whistlepig” were enough to make us…well, me…crazy. Read this one.
Maybe it was time to give up #2.
|hoophouse #2 is no more|
Selling the hoophouse seemed an easy decision. Getting rid of it is a different story.
It’s not a simple demolition project. No. It needs to be taken down with thought and planning so that it can be reconstructed elsewhere. #2 will be going to a new home “just down the road a ways” where it will be used on a friend’s produce farm. This will be the “third act” for the hoophouse. Did you read
|day two demo|
|beautiful day for working outside|
Then, our garden spaces will be re-configured as we move into our own “third act”. (That one is still TBD...we’re figuring it out as we go…)
and again…”your time (of knowing what you’re going to do) will come…”
|"Teen-tine" knows what she wants and goes for it|
(even when she isn't supposed to!)
|the pullets consider things...|
|from all angles...|
|lambs just go where they are sent|
(most of the time)
Once I was feeling somewhat normal again, it was time to head up the interstate to pick up the last load of lamb chops. Unfortunately, it was a miserably cold, incredibly rainy, day for the trip. That made for a nervous time on the road as the big trucks swerved and swayed in the bad weather and we had to take two separate detours to avoid accident back-ups. But, the trip was uneventful and the lamb inventory is completed. (and we got chocolate milkshakes!)
|miserable interstate travel|
|gloomy day in our beautiful Valley|
|soggy burning bush|
As is always the case, when it stopped raining…the wind started blowing. And blowing. Howling would be more like it. (but, it was so clear and gorgeous)
|leaves are all gone from the birch tree|
|apple blossom in November|
|lovely autumn light over Mbrk|
|colorful rosebush leaves|
Just in time for Saturday’s Market. (excuse me if I don’t sound enthusiastic)
|leaving for Market|
(at least it's not pitch dark!)
|this is a pathetic display, I know|
but, it was too windy to hang the banner!
Wind is my least favorite weather phenomenon. Coupled with near freezing temperatures, it makes for a trying market morning. In addition to the challenges of growing and selling, there is a constant need for vigilance against products blowing away. Between the overwhelming noise and distractions of the wind, conversations are next to impossible. Vendor canopies must be properly secured, or they will go cartwheeling through the parking lot. While catastrophe does give the Market folks opportunity to pull together, large flying objects at the Market can be disastrous. Then the Market was further compromised by the Veterans’ Day parade. Not complaining about veterans…or the parade…just noting another street closing and parking lot issues downtown… All in all, getting to the end of the Market felt like a hard-won battle.
It felt so good to get into the house, out of the wind. A fire in the woodstove warmed our bodies and somehow soothed our souls. To be warm and cozy is such a blessing!
Just one more week…
|looking through the front porch lattice|
And then it will be the OFF-SEASON.
Off-season is a misnomer if you ask me. (I know, no one did)
Once the Market ends, there are 5 days before the Thanksgiving feast needs to be on the table.
I spend those 5 days baking, cooking, getting ready (and wishing I had cleaned the house a little better) for a meal that is over far too quickly.
And, then everyone is off…racing through the holidays at break-neck speed.
With the New Year comes lambing season. That is quickly followed by early seed starting, the first broiler chicks and before you know it… Opening Day of the Market has arrived once more.
The off-season is probably the one time when I am trying to figure out how to SLOW things down rather than impatiently wishing for some point in the future.
Because, ready or not…”your time WILL come”!
(I like to think it would amuse DadWomack to know how often he is quoted…and often mis-quoted…around here)
|Redbud leaf on Market sidewalk|
Hope you have a Happy Sunday!
Thanks for stopping by. Come back and “visit” again soon.