11. More Work Than You Can Shake a Stick At (Because You're Arms are so Tired That You Can't Pick Up the Stick)

No one has ever claimed farming was easy. In fact, the pathos around the job very much includes the romance of toiling in the fields, being at one with the animals, and engaging in good, clean, American work.

That image is not entirely incorrect. My hands are so swollen and calloused that I can no longer pick my nose efficiently. I have bruises all over whose origin are a mystery. By dinner time, I am so tired that it’s tough to make it to the shower to clean up before I begin cooking.

And I am not complaining! I am merely stating that this is a very different kind of tired than my previous jobs that were psychically taxing, whereas this is simply physically taxing. The take away? I prefer what I’m doing to what I have done.

Yeah, using my brain all day and sitting at a computer is one way to live; heck, it’s pretty much the way the majority of the population lives. But being able to be outside all day is pretty great. Sure, it’s April and the weather is cool and beautiful, and by August, bug bitten, sweating, dehydrated, and sun-baked, I may sing a different tune, but right now, waking aching every day with the chance to do it all over again feels like I have been missing this thing in my life for years.

Just the other day, I spread 800 pounds of soil amendment with a shovel and wheelbarrow (it only covered 20 beds, by the way, which means I need to procure an additional two tons to finish the beds I have planted), and it took the better part of the day, so I got a sun and windburn, but it was great: I sang all afternoon at the top of my lungs while literally shoveling shit. Seriously, I love it.

Of course, my small farm mentors who preach that efficiency is the only way to be successful would gasp in horror at the thought of taking an entire day to spread soil amendment—they use machines for that—but I don’t have that kind of money laying around. Starting a farm is expensive! Those who inherit the land and the equipment don’t know how lucky they have it (but then again, they are most likely also inheriting crushing debt, so, maybe I should be thankful that I don’t have that. Well, not farm debt. Student loan debt, yes. Credit card debt, I have a gold star in that). I’ve applied for a small grant with the hope that I will luck out and get $5k for a small, walk-behind tractor (I call upon the BCS gods to deliver unto me, a tool to increase efficiency…) I’ll also take investor monies. Anyone interested?

I’ve also been busy trying to turn a shed full of the previous owner’s garbage into a chicken coop, since my ladies have been fostered at a friend’s the entire time I’ve been here. Crazy that I moved to the middle of nowhere, but my hens are still in the city. But with all of the jobs at the house to make it livable, I couldn’t muster the time to make the chickens a priority. Now, we’ve gotten the house projects well underway, so I turned my attention to the shed.

I’ve cleared it out, put up roosting bars, repurposed a built-in we ripped out as nesting boxes, but still need to frame-in the doors, and put up hardware cloth (not chicken wire, as its name is not accurate—that stuff may keep chickens in, but it doesn’t keep anything else out, and as I tell new chicken keepers: everything wants to murder your hens. They are delicious to all.). Then I can pick up my ladies from the generous chicken-keeping angel who has been watching over them for over a month (thanks, Alexa!)

Meanwhile, the hubs continues on his ceiling hole quest, as it gets bigger, grosser, and closer to its demo’ed completion.

What’s interesting, to me, about the ceiling debacle, is that when we began to open it up, there were roof tiles lying on top of the insulation. This leads me to believe that the house was abandoned before the “fixes” were made to sell it, since roof tiles don’t all-of-a-sudden fall through the roof. And a leak in the roof doesn’t all-of-a-sudden soak through to rot away everything below it in one fell swoop. Either way, some serious neglect happened here.

Enter Handsome Husband armed with a respirator, hammer and crow bar, and an expanding library of YouTube videos. Maybe this will be completed in the next couple of weeks. Maybe not…