Work Day

Although I fantasize about curling up with a book and staying in bed ALL DAY (one hour would even be nice), my favourite kind of Saturday is a work day, where everyone helps out to get those myriad little tasks done. I am presently reclaiming the garden directly in front of the homestead. Last summer, our littlest love underwent open-heart surgery, so all farm-related stuff was neglected as we showered our healing love on her.

Now I am taking the weeds to task, so to speak, as well as moving many perennials, in preparation of metamorphosing this bed from a flower plot to a vegetable plot. The chickens have enjoyed the hollyhocks, so Homesteadboy enclosed it all in chicken wire this morning, while I ruthlessly dug up dogwoods (dislike), and moved hostas, hollyhocks, and crocus bulbs (love!). Two little girls "helped", dirt-smeared faces, hands loving the damp darkness of soil, while one big boy was thrilled to use the wire-cutters.

My new clothesline is up, I've moved the piles of last year's dead brush to our compost, and now Homesteadboy is out enclosing a bigger run for the chickens, as the romanticism of full free-ranging is wearing thin. We all have a few new freckles, sore backs, dirty fingernails, and that feeling of complicity that comes with working together to make your home more beautiful.

Yes, it's a lot of work, and yes, we get frustrated when we get behind. But we chose this life, and seeing our children feeling useful and strong, getting dirty, learning skills, and being part of what makes this place work makes it worth it.