Oh, it’s happening!

It’s happening and I’m not ready for it. Not ready even one little bit!

Somehow, while we were busy with waiting rooms, eye drop dispensing, general nursing duties, and the weird parallel-universe-dwelling that happens when something large enough to derail your day to day comes along, the days have started drawing in. Today brought the realisation that, in the space of a scant week, instead of opening my eyes to full-on daytime I am now catching the sun rising. Yes, it’s all very pretty and wonder-filled, but this does signal the beginning of a downhill slide into winter and that thought did not fill me with joy. Of course, every season has its pros and cons and I won’t miss the constant dread of fly strike or wild fires as we tilt further away from the sun, but I’m really not ready to get out my winter woollies just yet and this morning’s mood reflected that.

Then, Google Photos obviously decided I needed to get over myself and sent a pictorial reality check of today, last year

which shouted to me that, in this lifestyle we’ve chosen, as much as things change they stay the same; oh, and to get over myself. For some reason, I found this been-here-done-that approach very reassuring and skipped into the morning chores with a song in my heart. Turn! Turn! Turn! The Byrds version, to be precise; it seemed weirdly fitting.

Also smiling a little easier is our Farm Girl, who doesn’t hurt nearly as much as this time last week and really just wants to get back to real life – which for her means school. Hopefully she’ll be cleared to do so at next Wednesday’s hospital appointment but, in the meantime, she’s back in her old home-school position.

And so, after the hoo and the hah of last week, life has slide back into the season-driven, eye-on-the-weather, reassuring routine of menagerie tending and general chores, helped along the way by a bit of hard core tidying

Cleaning and sorting always makes me feel a little more in control; Farm Girl’s clothes have been sorted into keep-and-chuck while she lay there, captive, and you can no longer read the outline of, “Season’s Greetings” on the downstairs window

and a few farmy happenings from both ends of the spectrum. Firstly, a surge in chicken coop population with the four New Hampshire Red chicks (now collectively known as Linda) being joined by little Olive, excess to The Tiny Housers requirements, and Kitty, who happened into The Princess’ workplace notice as one who was destined to be dispatched due to her chicken bullying ways.

Also, this week we were also visited by Pete and crew from Malvern Homekill. These guys are by far the best contractors that visit the Homestead being punctual, reliable, tidy and incredibly professional. This isn’t the “nice” face of Homesteading, but we believe it’s walking the walk. Sadly, sheepskins currently have no value and our efforts at tanning have been far from salubrious so my morning was spent adding their nutritional goodness to one of the raised beds; my biceps are groaning about it today.

A little uneven, but now all planted up with bush beans

So, this week we’re back on track; steering a steady course, working on admiring the sunrises that currently start our days.

Altogether now: To everything (turn turn turn), there is a season…