I confess: I'm intimidated by the garden this morning. After three days of tilling and weeding, I have made just enough progress to look like an unholy mess.
Fortunately, this is usually the point in a project where more effort really starts to seem to make real progress. Perhaps knowing that will help me find the gumption to get to it again today. David and I are planning on puitting out seedlings and sowing a second crop of beans and corn, and I'm really looking forward to that.
Graeme has measured and graphed his "New Room," saying his current room is too large to be kept tidy. There is wisdom here. He wants a floating loft, just the same as Ethan has, and this is easily enough done. The space Graeme has chosen as (and I quote) "ideal" is the current study, an area of wild disorganization off David's and my room. Putting up walls and building a bed and shelves is easy; figuring out what to do with the stuff scattered about the space is quite a bit more challenging.
The future garden plan is big, and somewhat costly. As business start-up fees go, it is really nothing much, and the work isn't altogether difficult, either. But for a family who just lost one income and child support, even the regular bills are mounting. We have been discussing refinancing for several months, and with the farm plan and the reduced immediate income, now seems (to use Graeme's term) ideal. Angie, the agent at the local Farm Bureau office, was very helpful and gave us the name of a mortgage officer who deals with land and farmers all the time, so if it can be done, he can do it. I'm keeping my fingers crossed and being cautiously optimistic.
The cows are supposed to be delivered this week. Everything is fine-enough for their arrival, but David and I both take a deep breath when we look out at the feikd and fence, knowing the pasture can (and should) be improved and that cross-fencing will make it easier and better for the cows and the pasture.
We are inviting The Cousins up for the first time. The group consists of Uncle Charlie, Aunt Barbara, David's mother Virginia, Delia Bell, and Aunt Rose. Rose and Delia haven't ever been to the house and the rest haven't been since last Autumn. While the house (like the field) is in fine-enough shape, I see plenty of little fixes I would like to do before they arrive.
All in all, the work we have before us is taking us ina wonderful direction, so I suppose it is positively intimidating.
