Today was a good day. A really good day. The kind of day I dreamed about when I was in my tiny little apartment, wishing for a house of my own.
I rolled out of bed and checked on the chickens. Replenished their water, gave them more feed. Checked on the ducks next–refilled their bowl of water, more feed. Threw a load of laundry in the washer. I watched the rain pour down, and decided a day spent working from home was more my style, so I called the appropriate people and told them how to reach me. Then I made the first of three cups of my favorite tea.
I sat in my favorite spot on the couch, working hard and actually getting quite a bit accomplished. I started some beets boiling, then at lunch I sliced them, popped them into the oven, and started making veggie stock with the leftover beet water. I decided the raw milk in the fridge really needed to be cheese, so I made mozzarella, being very careful to follow the directions exactly. Sometimes I try to wing it and it never turns out as good, so I’ve learned to just use my thermometer and egg timer and STICK TO THE RECIPE. Then I made ricotta from the leftover whey. I was having a “homesteader” moment.
I got back to work and did two enormous projects, TWO. I have the feeling if I were at the office, I wouldn’t have been nearly as productive. But I’m right in the middle of A.J. Jacobs’ “My Life As An Experiment”, and recently finished the essay on his attempt to “uni-task” or rather, NOT multi-task (checking email while catching up on news & eating breakfast, talking on the phone while browsing, etc.). His experiment inspired me, so today I wanted to make sure my work time was actually WORK time, and it…worked (no pun intended!). I felt accomplished and less contaminated with the icky film that covers my brain by the end of the day, since it hadn’t been running around in countless directions all day.
When I was done with my work day, I debated starting on the popcorn ceiling in the sewing room, as I want to get it off before putting the room back together for regular use. But I’m tired of always running from one project to the next, so I decided that the entire day was going to be as low-key as the first part. So I folded my laundry. I called my mother. I made a delicious dinner and ate it at the table, with no computer or smartphone or book or piece of mail or ANYTHING. I sat there and watched it rain. Then I took my favorite quilt to the back patio, curled into a chair, and watched it POUR. My lawn loves it. My foundation loves it. If the tomatoes are still alive, I’ve no doubt they love it too. The brother-cats sat in the other chair and watched it with me. The ducks went a little crazy. Then I came in, watched the chickens be absurd, finished a book, called a friend, drank peppermint tea, and read another book. I’ll probably end the day by putting my favorite sheets on the bed and taking a bath, shaving my legs. I’m looking forward to sliding into the fresh sheets with freshly-shorn legs, a delicious pleasure.
Today was a day dedicated to living in my little bungalow, seeing beauty in the small accomplishments, feeling the pleasure of mundane chores. I wasn’t trying to figure anything out, like where to put the coop, how large to build the run, what color to repaint the hallway, or how long the foyer needs to be for the board & batten. Nothing–I didn’t even turn on the radio or any music for most of the day (I confess a little Old Crow Medicine Show whilst cooking). I spent the day focused, well-fed, responsible, and simply. It was a beautiful day, and I want more like it.