Today, I was a Farmer

So, today I felt like a farmer. We have this old mound of hay in one of our pastures that is now becoming a mound of bermuda. It would be great except we aren't really wanting a mound of bermuda. Cows could climb on it, trip, break their leg, and then it would be bad. So, out to the mound I go. I got my heavy duty wheel barrow, my trusty overalls on, and a pitch fork. I figured pitch fork would be the proper way to go about removing hay from an area. Just like a farmer.

Yeah, not so much. I mean, it worked great with some of it. However most of it had already started to become blended in with the actual ground. So, the pitch fork flew across the pasture because it wasn't doing what I was telling it to. I used my hands and was ripping this hay from the grips of finely woven grass. Then my triceps were telling me, HOLY CRAP WHAT ARE YOU DOING! It felt nice. I quickly realized that this was, in fact, a workout! The term workout (a verb, also known as exercise) was pretty much eliminated from my life around the year 2011. Funny, that's when A3 was born. Anyway, this was a workout! My back, my abs, my triceps and even lats were on fire. I switched gears from feeling like a farmer to feeling like an athlete!

Any former athlete turned mom-of-many will tell you that you turn any activity into a workout when you get the chance. As I dumped my cart full of old hay I get a giant whiff of the, um, compost we collect in that same cart. As I wipe the dust off my face I also get a big whiff of the, um, chicken compost that was on my glove. Yes! Back to farmer.

And when one of our chickens that doesn't like anyone comes and sits next to me I feel like the chicken whisperer. When our big baby of a heifer walks behind me a stares at company, I feel like a livestock protector. Kind of like a donkey. I totally just called myself an ass.

When I hang clothes up on the line or knead a loaf of bread because my bread machine is broken, I feel like Caroline Ingalls. And when I read my girls something new and they get really into it, I feel like Sally Clarkson. When I cook something completely from scratch and Mr. Smash comes in from a day of working outside and raves about it, yep, Pioneer Woman!

There are days that I feel like I really can do this farming and homesteading thing. The days that each hat fits perfectly during that moment in time. Then there are days that I question what I got myself into. My city friends ask if I ever get lonely out here. The answer, yes. I got lonely in the burbs too. It was a different kind of lonely. I had many friends in the neighborhood that I could go visit in attempt to break that loneliness. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn't. It's not that I was really lonely, it was more like I was having a mommy overload moment and I needed to talk to someone, in person, other than a preschooler.

That feeling happens here too. I can't walk down to a friend's house and have a chat and some coffee. It's unfortunate really because I could definitely use that some days. I miss my neighbor friends and my play group friends. Here, whenever I get overwhelmed, I go outside. I take care of these animals and this dirt that God has blessed us with. It's a mommy instinct to take care of things. It's FREAKING AWESOME to go out and take care of a living thing that doesn't whine or complain or say "I hate this dinner".

So, yes I get lonely. I just have to change the way I handle it. Instead of running to more noise, I tend to run to the quiet.