A Day in the Life
We have been living on the farm for exactly three weeks and one day. I thought it was time to give you an intimate glimpse into a typical day on the farm (so far). Our days involve a mixture of farm duties, practical legal matters, manual labor, cooking, and pacifying.
On a typical day Geoff will wake up between 6:30 and 7:30 AM EDT. I acknowledge his waking up and then either decide to get up or to fight for anywhere between 30 more minutes and three more hours of sleep. Upon waking Geoff dresses, feeds the dogs, makes himself breakfast, and then tends to the poultry and the gardens. Upon waking I get dressed, unload the dish washer, make myself breakfast, load the dishwasher, and if it’s Wednesday I clean the bathrooms (there shall be no dirty bathrooms in my new house). Then I play, where’s Geoff. A simple glance out the window does not always solve this mystery. Sometimes it takes a half mile walk to locate my spouse.
Today I got up at 8:30, had an egg with toast and our homemade blackberry jam, and did not look for Geoff because I had already pre-arranged that today would be a indoor business day for Lindsey. I submitted another job application, gathered some important documents, and headed off to Liberty to register my car. The Casey County Courthouse is non-smoking. I know this because every other time we have visited the courthouse (three other times) we have passed small groups of people smoking right outside the front doors. Today, though, when I went to visit the Sheriff to get my car inspected, there was a man on about his fourteenth cigarette sitting behind the counter in the Sheriff’s office. I couldn’t tell if this was some sort of highly inefficient form of collusion, or if that guy only had three weeks to live so they let him do whatever he wants, or what. But it was unusual. So I paid the lady behind the sheriff’s office counter my 5 dollars and after to quick trip outside so she could verify my vin number and check my mileage I had an official Kentucky car inspection. Then I went inside to get my actual plate. This required the title to my car, my driver’s license, my newly acquired inspection document, and, of all things, my marriage license. In less than ten minutes I walked away with my brand new KY license plate. Kentucky is cool because they have tons of plates that go toward special causes. I got a really pretty plate with a waterfall on it that somehow helps nature. Not sure exactly how. But the plate looks cool.
From there I went to the local TruValue hardware because I got an emergency phone call from Geoff requesting a five pound box of two inch six or eight penny nails. That sounds pretty specific, however, when you get to the nail store you realize a much higher specificity is require. Did we need coated nails, classic nails, grooved nails, nails that are ribbed for her comfort? I had an awkward few minutes with the very nice nail salesman and we eventually settled on a box, but when he wasn’t looking I swapped it out for a different one because my gut told me something wasn’t quite right with the first type. In the end my gut instinct was a good one. From nail store to the newly re-opened IGA supermarket for some local, Kentucky Proud, produce. The market incurred a lot of damage during May’s 500 year flood. In fact our insurance agent is still working from a temporary building. Half a watermelon, two, ears of corn, three avocados (not local), and a nail confirmation phone call later I was winging my way back to the manse. There I put up the groceries, attached my new license plate, delivered the nails, and made a really kick-ass wrap for lunch.
On Geoff’s lunch break he made Bailey a vet appointment because of some chronic grass eating and a hip ache (Bailey, not Geoff). I did a little more job-trying-to-get-business, and then it was time to drive into Campbellsville for Bailey’s appointment. It was a busy day at the vet, congrats to the uber cute pug couple who found out they are expecting, Bailey eventually got her turn with the doc, but not before the receptionist had our entire life story and we had hers. Turns out, Bailey and I are now on all the same meds, well she doesn’t take birth control, she went another route with that. The doc said she has some cartilage damage (like I have in my knee), and that it could be fixed with surgery but the surgery would be more invasive than the good it would do (my sports medicine doc said the same thing to me) and Bailey was prescribed generic Prylosec (the same thing I take everyday) until she stops eating grass (I quit eating grass a while back, but I’m still on the meds). Ever since both of our legs gave out on the top of that mountain in Arkansas, Bailey and I have been orthopedic kindred spirits.
From the vet we dashed to Lowes for two two-by-fours and a sassy tool belt for Geoff. It really is a gorgeous tool belt, even my Nana would approve and she was not one for the industrial look.
Now here is where you get to learn about two of the most important parts of our lives here: 1) weather 2) the similarities between Geoff and Jillian Michaels. Weather is important because when it rains then we can’t do farm work. This makes Geoff very sad, but it makes me the happiest lady in rural America. I learned after moving here that farmer’s do not observe weekends. Every single day they do something farmy. Geoff jumped in whole heartedly to this schedule. I am more reluctant. I really love regular weekends. The kind where you don’t do manual labor. This leads us to important thing #2) ways Geoff is like Jillian Michaels. He is actually more like a combination between Jillian Michaels and Mr. Miagi. Let me explain…
On her hit T.V show “Losing it, with Jillian Michaels,” Jillian Michaels creatives clever and inventive outdoor excercises for people in rural communities that, at times, have lead to minor injuries and that always lead to sweating, cussing, and the feeling that limbs will fall off. Geoff does this too, but on accident. He’ll say something like, “Oh, can you help me with this for just a minute?” and four hours later I am drenched in sweat, have cussed every word I know, and have a minor injury. Yet the definition in my arms is incredible. The other day Geoff even Jillian Michaelsed himself. He went down to the creek to get gravel to cover the french drain and he nearly kicked his own ass. He can’t help it. He’s an ass kicking savant–Jillian Michaels would be proud.
At other times, Geoff takes a more Mr. Miagi approach. I feel like at after a few months of farming I’ll also be ready to compete in the big tournament against the Cobra Kai DoJo. Everything is wax on wax off here. Or more like mow on mow off. Hold this board. Now hold this board. Now hold this board. Hammer this nail. Very good Daniel-son. Dig this trench. Now fill it in again. Now dig it again. Now take these chopsticks and catch a fly. Very good Daniel-son.
After our Karate Kid re-enactments I still found time to, for the first time ever, divide a whole chicken into it’s eight (in this case seven because I had a pesky thigh leg combo that would not un-unite) constituent eating parts and make barbeque chicken. With the help of Alton Brown’s internet video and several different moisture enhancing strategies, my first attempt turned out okay. This is the kind of endeavor where I am sure practice makes perfect.
One quick and indulgent hour long reality TV show, and then off to bed. Tonight we’re treated to fireflies, heat lightning, and many twinkly stars–a part of farm life I would not trade for anything.
There you have it. A typical day at Good Life Ranch, although I have the feeling there is no such thing as “typical” around here.