My morning consist of waking the boys for school; they have to make up a month of missed school days due to snow. Getting them up to the bus on time,
then coming back down to work in the garden. The rocks are rather thick. This land use to be a road until the 1970's, I think that is some of the rocks I am finding. Sitting, as I still have not graduated to crawling as of yet. My knee is better, however the sensation of pressure makes my stomach churn, it is a least not tired enough to cause me queasiness. For two hours, I slowly churn the soil into rows, removing as much roots, weeds and rocks as I am allowed. Thankfully the neighbor had broken the ground of the second half of my garden, it makes working it much easier. If, and that is an if, I finish clearing a row, I plant seeds, and move on. Small Farm Girl gave me two red bell pepper plants yesterday. I am humbly grateful.
Finally it's time to wake Husband. With him working 16 hour days, driving another 2 hours,
he gets 6 full hours of sleep. I give him every minute of it, no matter how selfish I am feeling that day. With this new schedule, all the homestead work falls on my shoulders. In a way I am glad not to be milking cows at this point. But I am working on plans for a parlor, and soon that will be thrown into the mix. At this time the girls are allowed their freedoms, though they take too much liberty with them at times.
Once Husabnd is awake and dressed, it's off to the shop. Business has picked up, and we are looking forward to our first open house this weekend.
Most days I watch Husband work, I pay bills, order parts, and answer the phone. There are times I have to cut in and pull a client away from Husband so that work can be accomplished. With more clients comes more busy work for me. Yet even on the slow days, I can arrive home tired.
Returning home causes frantic hustling. The boys tend to neglect chores when left alone. As soon as I pull up, I bark orders. Fire needs to get going, dishes need to be sorted, tub filled with water after watering the garden with yesterday's water.
As the fire heats the flywheel, and drinking water, warming to where I can begin cooking, laundry gets soaked in the tub. While dinner simmers, I start the wash process. It takes a good hour of scrubbing to get them clean, and I am fortunate that the warm weather makes rinsing the clothes fun for the youngest two boys. I find myself rushing between dinner and laundry. Folding, stirring, wringing, stirring, hanging, stirring, serving. Finally a break. We eat dinner, just the boys and I, and settle in to watch a movie before bed and waking to repeat that days events.
What we doing today?
The same thing we do everyday Pinky. . .