At the risk of sounding overly romantic, I absolutely love waking up here on the farm with a whole day stretching out in front of me with nothing to do but care for the plants and animals. Now that we’ve added the vineyard to the mix, there is one more station to roam past a couple times a day to see how things are progressing. My little baby sunflowers have sprouted, so every day I can observe just a little more growth behind the trellis. By the end of summer we should have a lovely wall of yellow heads shining on the crest of the hill between us and the sunrise.
The vegetable garden has been producing just enough asparagus for a side dish a few times a week and now the strawberries are coming ripe. The lettuce in my husband’s experimental garden was ready for the first harvest yesterday and we had it for dinner with the strawberries for dessert. Bliss! An omelette for breakfast with sauteed asparagus and swiss cheese, and a friendly greeting to my chickens with a little toss out of cracked corn to get them scratching around their run. The peonies are flourishing for the first time this year, so they must have rooted into their best spot at last. As I crunch my way down the gravel drive and listen to the soft chords of the wind chime on the front porch, I find myself humming John Denver’s “Thank God I’m a Country Boy” without realizing it.
We are taking a short little trip into Chicago this weekend to remember what city life is like and enjoy a concert. I find myself feeling melancholy the day before a trip away from home, rather than the excitement you’d expect anticipating a vacation. I think I was meant for this kind of life.