Sometimes It's Hard

Reader Contribution by Staff
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I’ve been hurt by this farm. Really hurt. I’ve been bitten, butted, cut, scarred, and brought to tears from pain, stress and exhaustion. This happens over and over and I’m always alone. There are things I won’t blog about because I don’t want my mother to worry. There are things that happen that terrify me.

This year was the hardest yet. I planted my largest garden ever, raised the most animals, and took on more work and personal projects than any sane human being should. Now that the year is almost over, and the south side of October is days away, I can let out a long sigh and tell you it was all worth it. I found a balance in it all, kept my blinders on, and everything got done. The garden was tilled, weeded, and harvested. The two-week-old goat kid grew up into a spit-fire. The young birds are almost full-sized chickens now and the rabbit doe is due to bear kits any night. Yes, the hive was lost. And yes, I failed the sheepdog I once called my own, but you’ll have this from time to time. And you and I don’t have enough nights to list my faults. There are many, some are awful. Trust me.

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