a year of mornings 223/365

 

This apple came from some friends who farm not too far away. The trees were on their farm when they bought it a few years ago, and they don't know the variety. Many of them are quite enormous and they're deliciously tart, but not sour. There are loads of drops and insect-nibbled ones that we're welcome to, and my eyes get wide as saucers when I think of what that could mean.

 

My dreams of channeling Ma Ingalls and becoming a food preservationist extraordinaire remain, well, the stuff of my daydreams. It's hard to get ahead when our life feels so busy, and when so much of our energy and wonder these days is directed at the little monkey in my belly.

 

But bit by bit, year by year, we get closer to this ideal I've got in my head. This afternoon our 60 meat birds will meet their maker. We got a milk goat this year! And our chest freezer is ever full.

 

I guess it's okay if I never find myself doing it all. It's motivating and fun to work toward a thing, you know?