Writing History Every Day
I haven’t felt inspired to write lately with the impending election anxiety, waiting on baby goats to be born, a loss in the family, never ending work to do on the farm and in house, personal trauma, snow flakes in the air and every one I know around me feeling anxious and going through Personal struggles.
It feels as though there is a weight on everyone’s hearts these days and it is hard to see the light and positivity In things lately. As I loaded my car with 5 dozen eggs to deliver to a friend who is expecting a new life in the next week, I started feel a feeling I hadn’t had in a while. I began to feel hope and nostalgia and pride in my work Not to mention a slew of unanswerable questions. These 5 dozen eggs will help sustain a family while they bring a baby into their lives, those 5 dozen eggs mean a quick meal when you can hardly think about feeding yourself. Those 5 dozen eggs mean organic, free range goodness going into their bodies to take care of not only their being but the world around them. Those 5 dozen eggs mean friendship and getting to glimpse her pregnant belly days before it changes shape and gives life. Those 5 dozen eggs are a labor of pure love on all ends, our collecting, washing, feeding and watering the chickens, closing them in every night to protect them from fox, cleaning their coop, and caring for them. The chickens, foraging bugs, seeds, plants, and roaming the farm, then retreating to their nesting boxes to deliver a nutritous egg only for it to be taken away. A lot more goes into those 5 dozen eggs than it would seem.
As a drove through the hills that I had traveled since a young child to deliver the eggs, pick up goat feed, carrots, celery and potatoes for our dinner I had the realization that my life is absolutely charming and wonderful. We buy our organic chicken and goat feed from a local grain company and to make it even better, a local farm close by buys it in and offers it for sale out of her barn so we don’t even have to travel to the grain mill. It takes at least a half an hour to drive to any sort of big box store to get feed so this is a perfect option for us. The carrots were at a farmer Friends house up in the hills and the celery was at the farm that I work at. I was grocery shopping in the hills and I can’t think of anything more charming.
My great grandfather was an egg delivery man. He would deliver eggs all over these hills long before the hills were paved and easy to manage. There are old photos of his egg delivery truck that make me wonder if he can see me loading 5 dozen into my car to deliver today. I wonder if he delivered eggs and thought about how much work went into them, how they meant friendship, love, care, nutrition, sustenance. I wonder if he felt Anxiety around the election of presidents of our country. I wonder if he thought about the future generations and if they would be delivering eggs.
I wonder if my children’s children will keep chickens, if they will grow food, if they will have anxiety around the election of their countries leaders. I wonder if our farm will still exist. I wonder if I will be able to see it all unfold from another place in time.
For now I will enjoy my charmed life and the chicken and dumplings made from the love and hope of our friends and families in these hills and send love and hope to our future generations and for the people who’s lives are at risk depending on the man who will run this country.
