July 1, 2022
I slept well last night and awoke around 5:30 am. Summer brings a different kind of rest for me. I suffer from undiagnosed seasonal depression and winter can be difficult. In the summer I have more energy, I’m more at peace, I have more joy and I feel better. As I told a friend recently, “Summer is my time to shine!” I strive to make use of every ray of sunshine and spend additional time outdoors. When I can’t be outside, I do everything I can to invite the world outside into my home. I feel sorry for people who must keep their windows closed for they are missing so very much. With open windows, I am constantly surrounded by the sounds of nature even when I must be indoors. Most recently I have been keeping the audiobooks and other distractions off so that I can just enjoy the sounds of nature filtering through my open windows and doors. The babble of the streams sings me to sleep at night and the chorus of dozens of birds awakens me in the mornings. It’s a beautiful thing. We are so fortunate that even when the days get hot, the cool mountain air blows through in the evenings and the temperature drops to lovely sleeping weather at night, cooling down the house. Sometimes this place, this life, it seems like a dream to me! It is all I ever wanted and more. Sure, it is a lot of hard work to farm and to provide as much as possible for ourselves, but we have slowed down and are enjoying life after spending so many years pushing ourselves to the limits to get to this place. The last few summers in Staunton were good years for us but pushed us physically, to the point that my health suffered, and those days were stressful for our relationship as we juggled so many responsibilities. I am thankful for this time that Mike and I can devote to our relationship and to our special interests. With time more flexible, I make writing a priority. More and more it consumes me. Over the winter, I wrote a children’s story manuscript that I hope to have published as a picture book for children ages 6-10. I edited the piece four times and then let it sit for about four months. Looking at it with fresh eyes recently, I made a couple minor changes and then began to research possible publishing companies. Of course, I hope to find a publisher so that I do not have to self-publish, but it’s a tough market. There is a lot of talent among authors, so I have made sure that I am ready for the rejections as they come! Rejection will be part of this process as I learn and grow. It always is! After doing a lot of research, I picked three different types of publishers and submitted the manuscript to four places. (I will explore the types of publishers in another blog post later.) All but one of the companies stated that due to the influx of manuscripts from aspiring writers who had additional time to write during the pandemic, the wait time for a response can be as much as 4-6 months! Wow!
Mike and I attended the
Chautauqua Writing Contest’s awards ceremony last Friday where I was given two
beautiful certificates and a monetary award for the pieces I submitted to that
contest. That was such an amazing
experience! The stories that I entered the contest have not been published on
my blog or elsewhere. This has been a strategic move on my part because I am
hoping to find a periodical or publisher of short stories that will take my second-place
story. I submitted that story to two
different publishers this week. I am
determined to just keep writing even with rejections. I want to learn and grow
and move forward. There are times I look
back with just a touch of regret that I did not focus on a career in writing
(in some capacity) from an early age and receive formal training to help me in
this endeavor. (Just a little jealous of
my baby sister with a degree in journalism but also so very thankful that she
had that opportunity!) However, as one
who tends to look for the positive, I realize that I now have a lifetime of stories
to share, and I know more about how I want to share them. A twenty-year-old can write but can’t write
with the life experience of a fifty-five-year-old. If my health holds up and I am granted the
average life expectancy, then I could have another twenty years to pursue
writing without the pressures of needing to earn a living other than the
subsistence farming that we are doing.
This is a privilege and a luxury, and I am aware of this huge indulgence
that has been given to me. I will strive
not to squander it.
My cows are dry or will be
by this time next week. Ginger is almost
finished with the process. We have been
milking her every other day and then every third day. I am going to every fourth day and then will
just quit milking her at the end of next week.
I have cows starting to calve in late August or early September, so this
will give us a couple months of a break from the milking routine. It makes a huge difference. The milking itself is not what is time-consuming but rather the process of making dairy products. While it’s easier to just provide for our own
needs and not as time-consuming, it still takes many hours a week to make the
products we need from the milk. Having a
couple of months when all the cows are resting in anticipation of new, fall
babies gives me time to pursue other activities and interests. I feel almost giddy with the possibility of a
few extra hours a day! Of course, the timing of this slow-down in the barnyard
intentionally coincides with our busy garden season and we could not have timed
it more perfectly this year! This week
as Ginger’s milk production comes to a halt, the garden has begun to provide
enough for us to start storing away for winter.
Our first picking of green beans yielded almost a bushel of beautiful
beans and we put up 14 quarts. In
addition, I made 15 pints of sweet relish from cucumbers (10 pints) and yellow
squash (5 pints). We are just getting
started with the preservation! (We put
up peas, beets, spinach, zucchini, and yellow squash with our new pro vacuum
sealer before this week in smaller quantities.)
Mike has picked around twenty gallons of blueberries on shares, and I
have made pies, we have shared blueberries with family and friends, and I have
put up over 50 cups of individually packaged blueberries in the freezer for the
winter. We like to put them on yogurt and make smoothies with them, and the grandkids like to eat them frozen straight
from the freezer. Of course, we can
always use them for pies as well. We are
thankful for our friends who allow us to share in their harvest and are so
generous in allowing Mike to pick on shares.
June 6, 2022
Mike and I went to church as
we typically do on a Sunday morning and then we left from there to travel to
Staunton. We had the car packed with
pies, fresh cucumbers from the garden, blueberries, pickled beets, and cucumber pickles, as well as sweet relish. Mike’s mom and
sister were hosting the annual Fourth of July picnic at the family farm in
Verona. Honestly, I didn’t want to
go. There’s not much I hate more than
traveling the interstate and a holiday weekend will keep me at home if I have
my say. Because we did not want to
disappoint Mike’s mom, I didn’t put up any resistance. I typically don’t have to do the driving, so
all I must do is keep my anxiety under control.
I do that by not paying attention to the traffic. I watch on the backroads, a part of the trip
that takes us about 45 minutes. I must
keep my eyes on the curves, of which there are plenty, or I get motion sickness. I also watch for deer that might jump out of
the brush and the scenery at that point is to my liking. Later, when we hit the interstate, I listen
to audiobooks, read, work on my computer, or take a nap. I do anything to pretend like I am not careening
down the interstate at 80 mph surrounded by large trucks that are too close for
comfort as well as aggressive drivers that don’t give them their
space. Fortunately, on Sunday, the
traffic wasn’t as bad as it could have been (although bad enough) and the two
hours on the interstate went quickly, without incident. Once we arrive “back home” to the Shenandoah
Valley, I am always comforted to be around people I love as I store away the
memories that will sustain us when we are apart. The children are the best part! A whole passel of great-nieces and nephews
that are fun to watch as they play in the sunshine and the creek and experience
farm life in full. Two of our grandkids
were able to be with us this time as well, along with their momma! They don’t usually come to these events. While there and picnicking outdoors, we are
surrounded by the cattle that Mike’s nephew keeps just as Mike used to do when
he rented the farm. There are some
changes since we have been there but only a few really. Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be when
you visit the home place? Mostly things
remain the same, and that is a comfort.
The whole family settles in along with a few close friends and we catch
up. There is always the talk of crops, cattle,
gardens, farming equipment, catching up on each other’s lives and work, checking
up on the status of those who can’t be with us, and remembering those who have
passed. We eat well and plenty. As much as I dread the trip, I realize these
are times that will soon be behind us, and we will long for them once
again. Mike had taken his clothes with
him in anticipation of possibly staying in Staunton and sending me home while
he put up hay, but that did not work out, and he made the trip back with
me. I never try to influence him one way
or another when he needs to make a trip to the Valley to work and I don’t mind
being by myself in Laurel Fork. (Mike
remains amazed that I can spend long periods completely alone and be
perfectly happy and energized by it.)
However, I do stress greatly about the travel and dread driving that
road home by myself. I was greatly
relieved when it worked out for him to
come home with me on this trip.
