With the long weekend, I've had five days at home to read, write and do the chores I love doing. We brought home baby chicks last week so we've been hanging out with our new "peeps" all weekend. Also watching three fertile eggs under a broody hen (or two; they seem to switch it up) while Dwayne is trying to incubate nine eggs.
We went to the Friday night kitchen party, finally, at the Chatterbox Cafe in Pugwash. I'm starting to develop a following of my column. Hard work is paying off.
Dwayne has been trying to shoot the crows that are eating the potatoes sets he FINALLY got planted after so much rainy weather. But he hasn't hit one yet. "You know you're married to a redneck," I said the other day, "when there are cigarette butts and empty shell casings littering the yard." Nice.
I've been reading Cheryl Strayed's book, "Wild", and the weirdest thing keeps happening: Her book keeps triggering something in my mind and I have to put the book down and write whatever has come to me. After five pages, it was rewriting the opening to my memoir. Last night, I wrote eight pages in my notebook. I haven't written so much longhand in ages; took an hour (I was writing as Dwayne was falling asleep).
Dwayne and I had a conversation on Sunday night, one of those wandering ones that ended up touching on how hard he has always worked and that he had three jobs when he was first married back in the early 80's. Up until the nineties, he was still going down to the farm to milk every evening. I said, "You know, if you had kept up the farm that way, I'd likely go with you to help. That way, I'd get to spend time with you and you've finish sooner to get home."
It was an idea that really resonated with me. It's never bothered me that he works so hard, even though he usually puts work ahead of everything else, but at the same time, if I could help him, I would. I liked the way that statement rang so true inside me; I'm sorry we don't get a chance to do that. Oh, well, I worked in the strawberry patch this morning and kept him company while he waited for cars to roll in. Strawberries sold well for our first two days with our roadside signs. Hopefully word will spread about our red, juicy, unsprayed berries.
Checking on the chicks...
Bruno the bear eating ants in the back field for three days certainly puts a crimp in our walking up the lane, although the bugs are too thick for that anyway so Bruno can munch in peace...
Picking strawberries...
Even the ones that don't pass Mum's strict quality control and go to our kitchen are wonderful The hens get the really squishy ones which they don't mind at all...
I'm the creative, marketing & PR team...
And this is our unique marketing angle: wildflower-infused berries! See if you can spot a few red berries in there...
Mum remembered this blast from the past: a favourite book of my childhood...
So now, as I head back to work tomorrow, I'm hoping I head out the door to fetch the newspaper in the morning only to find Bruno sitting in the middle of the strawberry patch.
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