This has been a very long, stressful, exhausting week. We started Monday off with our first experience of hay baling day. We unloaded 200-300 bales of hay into our barn Monday night after work. We had some help with our friends who are also far more experienced farmers, we finished around 10:00 p.m., and it's safe to say that we will not need hay for the foreseeable future.
Our lone guinea fowl has integrated into our flock of young ducks, I harvested my first bundle of lavender, we did a hive inspection today and all our hives seem to being healthy and thriving, and all of this while working a 60 hour week on my job off the farm.
I'm sure you are now expecting me to say how accomplished and fulfilled I feel, well...I don't. I feel tired, overwhelmed, frustrated and like I am not making any progress. I feel like I am treading water, and just barely keeping myself afloat.
This is a hard way to feel while I'm supposed to be excited and "living my dream". I have been by turns: in tears, angry, sullen, sulky and despairing. However, I do believe it is normal, and to an extent, necessary. No one can go full speed forward all the time. In life, and in nature, there is always a time where things are just maintaining. If everything everywhere was always multiplying, moving forward, increasing, there would be no balance. So maybe I need to tread water for a bit, to get my bearings, perhaps I should try to appreciate this time and learn how to handle what I have. I am honestly not sure what I should be getting out of this time in my life where I feel as though I am not exactly succeeding in anything, but I know it won't last forever. I will get my feet underneath me and forward momentum will come again, and perhaps I will look back on this time fondly, when everything was new and we were building and learning. "This too shall pass", and I should not be so ready for it to pass so quickly, because even though I may feel like I'm just treading water, treading water is a survival technique for a reason, it's of course better than drowning, and I'm doing better than I could have dreamed of this time last year. And of course, in the end, there is no place I would rather be. So for now, I will tread water and try to appreciate the moment.
As I write this, we are in a doctor’s waiting room at 8 p.m. on a Thursday night. Kyle has had an MRI to check for a spinal injury he sustained from falling 18 feet off of an extension ladder while attempting to change a light bulb in our barn. He ended up with a few broken ribs, a small skull fracture, a broken nose and a spinal injury, which lead us to where we are now.