I am aware – have been since the beginning – that the primary obligation of a blogger is to blog: you have to put the stuff out there regularly. That has not happened this year on our farm. Blogging is like a job on top of a job, but this year it has been a job on top of three other jobs, and has not often gotten done.
I have mentioned before that the farm had a significant amount of what could charitably be called ‘deferred maintenance.’ That is a good term, and could be applied equally to our old house in Charleston, to the current state of infrastructure in Buncombe county, and, it has to be said, to our nation as a whole. Someone is always left sitting at the table when the check comes. Unfortunately for us, the bill for a new septic system arrived when we were the only ones left at the table. That was a struggle that lasted from March until November, but the less said of it the better.
Nevertheless, we push ahead on various fronts. The transformation of the garage down the hill from the house -- affectionately called the ‘Farmer’s Wife’ because of the big sign proclaiming it thus that adorned it when we arrived – into a couple of agritourism rental units is nearly done and will get a posting of its own when it is. Likewise, the transformation of a state-of-the-art 1930s half bath and an adjoining closet into two more functional whole bathrooms inside the house proceeds apace.
The goat milking has shut down for the season. The girls are solar-powered, and as the daylight fades, so does their milk production. I wrapped the last of this year’s cheeses back in mid-November and put them in the fridge for their final aging. But we are already preparing for a new season with ten does bred to our big new buck: another post to come.
The photo at the top of this post was taken a couple of weeks ago when we had our first heavy frost. By rights, frosty nights and days in the country mean a slowdown in the work as things contract. The milking is done for the year, true, but all sorts of other initiatives are forging ahead, and this winter does not seem to be offering much in the way of sitting by the fireside. For example, the wood we need to heat the house is still mostly green, and we need sufficient dry to hold us over until March when we can burn the wood we have collected so far. But unless something really exciting happens, don’t expect a post about cutting wood. If you want something along those lines, look into Robert Frost.
This season’s preoccupation with transformations near the family house has put the cheese house and associated endeavors a little farther back. Nevertheless, the plans for those crucial parts of the farm are moving ahead, however slowly. Posts detailing them will also be appearing – however slowly.
These days, too many people seem to equate comfort and status with sleeping in. During kidding season, back in March and April, and lasting until June, I got up at 4:30 every day to feed the babies before milking. I was not unhappy when the kids were finally weaned! But another, unsuspected, benefit accrued: I found that I was most happy to be outside, watching the world wake up. T.H. White, in the posthumous addendum to his wonderful, The Once and Future King;The Book of Merlyn, has a chapter detailing this very thing: the beauty and illusory innocence of the world before men awoke and began their daily routine of stomping on things and breaking stuff up. I can forego 4:30 am with no trouble, but going from dark to light is a wonderful transformation that I still enjoy, for although I am no longer milking, the goats…and the horses…and the chickens…and the rabbits…and the turkeys…still need daily care and attention. Dredging up an antique word here, that is what a husbandman has to do.
So the photo of the pre-dawn house heater doing its job is pretty much where we are these days on the farm – given that we are also all over the place doing wonderful things. Winter reading by the fire might not quite arrive this year, but it is a goal devoutly to be sought.