29. 2021: Already a Doozy
Well, we’re a mere nine days into the New Year, have had a violent mob of “special people” attempt to overtake the Capitol, I’ve tested positive for COVID-19, and the eggs that I wanted to hatch out have yielded one chick, who I found dead this morning.
It’s quite a way to begin another circle around the sun.
COVID-wise, I’m extremely lucky in that my symptoms are pretty mild: I had a fever and some weakness with coughing right before the New Year, then felt much better, headed back to work, and then lost my sense of taste and smell. With the succession of those senses, I headed to the testing center to get the inevitable news: I was positive.
Then I had to talk to HR and the state to give them some contact tracing information, promise to quarantine, and now here I am: sitting around, sleeping ten hours a day, being alone. Except there’s the Hubs, who is now having to quarantine as well (and I’m pretty sure is pleased as punch to be doing so, while simultaneously fighting with his own workplace, who is insisting he come back after he takes a rapid COVID test to prove that he’s negative. My argument is this: first, quarantining is the SOP, right? Second, if they think he’s negative and want him to come back to work, wouldn’t he need to test himself every day, since he’s in this house with me? Wouldn’t it be a better use of resources to let him work from home for the next two weeks, and then come back fresh, absolutely un-infected, and ready for action? But what do I know, right?)
Meanwhile, I’m busy doing the math on soil amendments for the farm since a small soil test I performed yielded some pretty ridiculous results: pH neutral, and virtually no nitrogen, potash, or phosphorus to be found. No wonder I had such a time of it growing on dead soil. I mean, I assumed it was in bad shape, but whoa: it’s really dead.
Enter bulk soil amendments like DairyDoo, feather meal, green sand, blood and bone meal, and compost from my chickens (that is, when I get the energy to start hefting that stinky pile around the field). I should be able to get to them sometime the week after next. And then comes the problem solving part of getting multiple super sacks (roughly half-ton loads) unloaded without a tractor. More woman-power is the answer! My “neighbor” Heidi (she’s in the same zip code, but about three miles away) has offered to help. Hallelujah! She has three helpful tools: another truck, a tractor, and a strong back. Heidi has been nothing but incredibly generous to me this year. She’s gifted me goat’s milk caramels on cold market mornings, offered to combine bulk soil amendment orders for cheaper freight costs, and even offered to take care of the animals for me while I’m sick. Her kindness is astounding and I am very thankful for it.
So these next two weeks will be spent in the house, resting, making soup, maybe getting some painting done, and school starts on Monday, online, so I guess I have no excuses for having enough “time” to devote to quality pedagogy—I’m swimming in sick-cation.
Aside from the less-than-stellar start to the year, everything else is good: the floor that the Hubs has been working on is still coming along (though I swear he’s torn out and redone the space twice over), the kitties are good, the hens continue to lay, the roosters continue to trumpet their presence and court the ladies, the pups enjoy laying by the fire and snoozing (and having us around even more), so really, things are good, and I’ll bounce back, not much more to report.