Today’s To Do List

  • Pick berries – the season is too short! The berries came into bloom last weekend, and already they’re starting to wane. I’ve eaten my weight in fresh raspberries that glisten in the sunshine, and Taco has discovered his favourite treat. We let him run free in the woods at the back of the tree nursery and he comes back full of sugar and stained in berry juice. It’s awesome.
  • Rip out dead redwood trees with a loader. Driving the loader still petrifies me, and I absolutely hate when I accidentally end up with both front tyres up in the air because I’ve cooked the controls and can’t dig the bloody tree out. But I no longer sob my way through the hour I spend in the machine, so that’s progress.
  • Dry basil. There’s a basil jungle happening in my veggie garden, and since the tomatoes aren’t quite ripe yet, I’m stripping back the basil bushes and experimenting with drying it out to give to my sister in law, and to stock up for winter.
  • Run 10km on the wheelway. I’ve decided to run a marathon. It’s been a few years since I did a few long distance runs (at a safe plod, but still covered the distance!), so I’m working my way back up to being used to being a little bored and choofing on anyway.

What a life hey?

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Phone calls

Observation of northern Michiganders in their natural habitat: most appropriate cellphone greeting is ‘Hey you wild turkey!’

Fridays at work in Northern Michigan

I drive into the farm – the clouds are starting to set in over what has been a brilliantly blue summer. I’m singing along to my Broadway musical spotify playlist because I have fantastic taste. I pull around past the first crop of trees to see my husband holding a shotgun. He’d spotted the woodchuck that lurks in the outcropping of stone bravely venturing into the open space in front of the woodbark. In a normal world, this would be an opportunity to stay away and continue to coexist peacefully by ignoring each other. In northern Michigan, your father-in-law keeps a shotgun in the truck. Husband goes on the prowl. The woodchuck wisens up and disappears. We never found the woodchuck. There is now permanently a shotgun in our office. This is my new normal.