I’d forgotten the simple comfort of a hot cup of tea on a cold day. I’d also forgotten how easily I fall into a funk when the weather — and more importantly, the amount of daylight — begins to wane.
We’re entering the season where I have to force myself out of bed now, into positivity, productivity, away from the siren song of hibernation. I know I’m not a bear, but my body and mind beg to differ.
The rainy part of autumn seems to have moved along now. We used about a quarter of the straw we put back for winter getting through it. It’s more than I expected to use, but if winter goes as winter should in Michigan, we’ll be fine until next summer. Another twenty-five percent of what we have would get us through a frozen winter, leaving half for when next spring’s rains converge with the thawing of the ground and make an epic mess of things. On the other hand, if we don’t freeze this winter — as we didn’t last — we’ll be in the market for more — probably by the beginning of February. Especially with a few litters due in December and January.
The prospect of more pigs is always welcome, and in a year when we cut our herd by seventy-five percent with the aim to rebuild in a different direction it feels good to be on track. But with feed prices where they are, and no relief for rising inputs in sight, it’s a rough time to be expanding.
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Thirty Days of Little Things is the daily incarnation of my (mostly) weekly gratitude practice. It will run everyday throughout the month of November. It also (conveniently) coincides with NaBloPoMo. To join in tell me what you’re grateful for today in the comments, or write your own post and leave me a link so I can check it out. I’d love it. No really. Of course, you can also read about more of my Little Things while you’re here. Because I’d love that, too.