Warm Luck
It is pouring outside, not what you expect here in the North Country in Mid December, but there it is. I am indoors, listening to the sounds of dogs chewing rawhide and sighs of Gibson, sleeping beside me. I am sore all over from hours of volunteer time at Merck Forest. I was there with some friends helping to stack their firewood for their staff, paint cabin doors, and clear debris. It felt like the right thing to do after friends stopped by Saturday to help stack all the wood here at the farm. It is a good feeling, that. Knowing that months of heat was protected by friendship. If there is a warmer way to live in this world than kindling collected by the sweat of loved ones, let me know?
I have spent most of this week working and hawking. Spending time with kin and friends and animals. I am grateful for it. Tomorrow I head back to my old offices at Orvis for some part time seasonal work. What a gift that is! I am just a few logo sales or fiddle lessons away from making another mortgage payment and getting this farm on solid ground. This job is a real nod in my favor, and some true luck. It feels earned and needed. It is as warm as the firewood.
I have spent most of this week working and hawking. Spending time with kin and friends and animals. I am grateful for it. Tomorrow I head back to my old offices at Orvis for some part time seasonal work. What a gift that is! I am just a few logo sales or fiddle lessons away from making another mortgage payment and getting this farm on solid ground. This job is a real nod in my favor, and some true luck. It feels earned and needed. It is as warm as the firewood.
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