When You Don’t See Me

Owning and running a family farm is a 24 hour operation. Someone needs to be around, just in case. But that doesn’t mean that we are working all those hours, between feedings when all is calm, there is no work that has to be done.  We can pick and chose any of thousands of tasks that we could/should/need to someday get to.

Fitting in the fun between the cattle schedule, the timber schedule, fence fixing, or the basic dog and cat schedule doesn’t always sync with the planting, harvesting or house maintenance schedule.

Friends and family have come to expect that I am unreliable. Planned  get-togethers are sometimes hurried, or missed altogether. But it is known that we will catch back up when there is a good clam tide, a mushroom picking expedition, a hiking jaunt, rock hounding or hunting to be done.

It is not all bad. There is a lot of fun to be had between the chores and even the individual jobs themselves are the envy of those who are unable to enjoy the outdoors as much as we are.

But this spring has been particularly tough. The amount of rain after the flooding at the end of last year has had us slogging through every task.

It seems like I am wearing out every bit of rain clothing that has piled up in the garage over the last decade, every style, every size. I have been known to wear odd fashions anyway, but this year I have exceeded all expectations. There were days when I would wear two sets of rain gear during the driving rainstorms, the first layer had holes where the second layer didn’t. I had hoped that somehow I would be able to stay comfortable during all the rain. You may have already guessed that it did not work so well.

It would have been impossible to tell if I was me, a crazed logger, or a yeti in the outrageous, layered outfits.

I have vowed to throw away all the ripped, holey, and decrepit outer wear as soon as the weather improves and I switch to a wardrobe that has a higher percentage of cotton than vulcanized rubber. I’m still waiting.

 

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