They noticed the distance of the river and neighbors and the fact that good beer is imported from the west coast. They showed me this place through fresh eyes. I am grateful for that. You can see so many pictures and tweets about our visit on my Twitter and Instagram. If you don't see me writing here often, which has been the case this summer, it is because of being so absorbed by the work of holding oliver onto the place and keeping it going, and the worry that constantly posting about struggles like today. My truck is in the shop right now to get power steering pump replaced, a surprise during a simple muffler repair today. I thought I was leaving with a reasonable bill and my truck but the freak failure means more money out the door while being bound here for the holiday.
We had lamb for dinner there saturday night. Danielle and Sarah got to play with the Old English Sheepdog puppies Patty bred and spend time around summer day with barn swallows, horse tails, puppy breath and roast beast! I needed the long weekend without the strain of deadlines and design files. I was so glad to just farm, talk, swim, and absorb the heat. And to see this place not through my essay daily eyes jaded by to-do lists, past mistakes, and apologies for a house with plywood floor - but as lovely piece of earth I care for. They didn't notice dust or cobwebs, they noticed Bette midler the lamb toddling up to them. They noticed Benjen coming inside for a morning scratch with our coffee in the living room. .
Their names were sarah and Danielle, both of them writers I met online through mutual friends. One hails from Portland Oregon, the other nyc, and for two amazing days of heatwave they were co-farmers and river rats with. They got up early and helped with chores. They shared meals from my farm and my friends' farms. They suited up for the battenkill and posed like mermaids on rocks when the 96-degree heat made us worthless to the world as creative people. There was roast lamb, Creamery ice cream, and most precious to me: long talks on the hill overlooking the farm at dusk. A large part of our weekend was spent at Patty and Mark's farm, livingston Brook. Patty took us for an early morning carriage ride with her team of Percherons.
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It's shaping up to be a delightful fourth! My chore list this morning is mostly centered around the gardens and their weeding and watering. I'm holding off on mowing and weed wacking until the weekend. Possibly piglets are being delivered on Thursday but I need to double back on those plans and check with the breeder. Basically, it's this time of maintenance and in-between work. . I have no plans for the holiday and am without my truck until I pick it up tomorrow from the shop. I'll spend most of today trying to push soaps and artwork online to cover the repairs.
So my holiday is basically working through essay it and hoping for the best. If you're interested in writing buying soaps, a logo, or artwork send me an email! When the real heat of the day hits I'll be spending time in front of my computer getting what I can checked off my deadlines and client list. If I can get that list wrapped up by sunset I hope to enjoy some sausages and a cold drink by a campfire with some audiobooks i am totally wrapped up in right now (Iron Druid Chronicles) and my kind dogs. It may be a working fourth but it'll be a fine one! New Friends and Old Trucks. I had the most lovely weekend with guests traveling between Canada and maine this weekend.
When the chickens are in their barn with the door shut and coops secure. When the lambs are sitting in the dark chewing cud and the goats are in the barn. When the hawk's on her perch and the horses are quiet and far aside - that is when I stop. I take a cold shower and slip into a house dress and know I have served this place another day. I feel it up in my singed arms and sore back.
It rolls down my spine like a happy charge. The world is warm and forgiving now. There's still time to get firewood. There's still time for all the things. There is until tomorrow, which one day might be forever so i will not complain about the heat. A working fourth, it's a warm and humid day here, but significantly less so than it's been this past weekend. I got in a nice run this morning before the heat really sunk in and the dogs are enjoying their post-herding fan floor time. I'm checking in with you readers who keep tabs on this place.
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If I can get through a winter like that and laugh the at deer flies I'm on the right track. I have been playing a lot of music, however simple and dusty. My strumstick has been coming with me for evening sits on the hill with Merlin and the mare. I strum and they pick grass and swish those tails. It's a lovely bit of plucking and mastication. My tin whistle is in my shoulder bag. Sometimes I pull it out by the river when no one is there and play something bright for the water. None of my music is very impressive but it is whole. When the water is spilled out in every station.
The only upside is all these repairs to the truck are necessary to pass inspection and being done as I can afford them. I worry all the time about homework things like this. It's why i write about it so much. But what comforts me is there's about six years of worrying about money and keeping this farm on this blog and you know what? Maybe tomorrow I'll sell a share of pork or two logos. Maybe i'll get an illustration gig. Maybe i'll get an old freelance check in the mail from a magazine piece. Maybe i'll sell some soap. The date seems to track towards success with stubborn persistence.
wood for February and I laugh in the face of the heat. I run. I pour myself into. It is a gift of cold rivers and soft grass and fireflies and fast horses. How dare anyone complain after all that frigid gnashing. It's June and i am already trying to save up for my first cord of firewood. I found out today my truck isn't ready to be picked up yet because it needs another hose for the power steering, another hundred dollars on the bill. Today i earned 75, yesterday. Sales are as languid as the summer weather.
Time: 8am - 12PM. Laughing At deer Flies, while carrying the fourth round of buckets to the hill tonight at dusk i was temporarily blinded from deer flies and sweat in my eyes. I had been making rounds for only fifteen minutes but my body was drenched. Every five-pound bucket of water weighs in around forty pounds. It's the kind of intense heat and humidity you wade through and I smiled as I shook my head and used my ponytail the same way the horses' use essay theirs. I have become a master of the face fly swat with the mass of sweaty hair pulled back behind. Good gods do i love this weather. I love every disgusting drip. Winter is too long, and too cold, and expensive and scary.
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The dyersville downtown Market is local event that was created for all ages to enjoy! The dyersville young Professionals invite you william to spend a saturday morning shopping with family and friends. Whether you are coming to enjoy local cuisine or find a new outfit at a local boutique, we always encourage you to support Local! We hope to see you there! Come check out all our awesome downtown businesses as well as all our local vendors! . Located in the grassy area between xavier school and the river. Dates: June 23rd, july 28th, and August 25th.