i miss blogging.

It’s true. I miss blogging. And then I find myself asking: why did I blog anyway? I miss looking back on things we did, and communicating with other people via the blogosphere. Instagram is nice, but you can only type so much on a little picture caption or comment. I read other blogs, mostly gardening and farming blogs. For a while I contemplated trying to really get in to blogging; you know, the kind of blog where you eventually have advertisements and perhaps make a buck or two from your writings. The thing is I don’t imagine myself ever being the type of blogger that explains how to do things. I call myself a “recipe rebel,” so it wouldn’t be all that genuine if I acted like there was one way to do something (not to mention I think that is rarely the case in life). The blogs I enjoy most tend to include day to day life, and the authors aren’t afraid to post their mistakes, either. My intention through blogging wasn’t (and wouldn’t be) to influence others to live the same way. There are lots of different ways to live out life. Right now I live on five acres in rural Montana and I love our life. Who knows, maybe ten years from now I’ll be in a metropolitan area writing about my favorite coffee shop or the best playground that our (future) children enjoy. I don’t particularly see that happening, but you never know. I guess my point is that I miss this blog space that was a public journal of sorts, and a space for others to comment or question what they read. 

Rather than getting too analytical, I’d like to simply say that today was fantastic. It was a really great day. Aside from being on vacation, today was probably my favorite day of summer so far. 

The day started out with fresh grouse berry scones made from berries that we had picked the day before. Definitely my best batch of scones ever (I think the fresh fruit made a big difference). Then we picked more huckleberries. After which we put the truck in four wheel drive and bumped our way up (yes, up, not just along) a gnarly Forest Service road to get more firewood. My job was to roll the rounds down the hill and set them up for Randy to split. I took a turn splitting and wow – I could use some serious practice. I didn’t split any wood last winter due to my hand surgery and being in a cast. You’d think I’d never done it in my life. There will be plenty of opportunities to practice. Anyway, then we came back to the house and worked in the garden. I fed the animals, and Randy split more wood. I helped stack the wood (Did you know wood stacking is an art? Randy is all about having efficiently stacked wood). Then we came inside and cooked dinner together, a meal that was dictated by what was fresh in the garden. The evening ended with plum wine spritzers, complete with a few floating (fresh) huckleberries. 

I was contemplating this whole blog thing mostly while I was feeding the animals, perhaps my favorite chore. I love almost everything about feeding the chickens and pig: the smell of the grains in the bin; the way the animals come to the gate when they see me coming down the hill with a bucket in hand; the sound of the pig smacking his lips as he gobbles up slop and grains; and the calmness (and satisfaction) of the animals after they’ve been fed. Some days I dream of being a farmer. Perhaps not even for money, but I like the idea of being self sufficient. I even kind of like dirt under my finger nails because it is often a sign of hard work and productivity. 

All i really wanted to say is that I’m feeling satisfied and blessed on this Sunday evening. Thankful.