Gray Ostara

The farm is slowly transitioning into Spring. Ostara came and went without so much as a candle lit, lost the celebration in the flow of cleaning up a winter’s worth of sticks, hay, and debris all over the paths. The horses had their spring worming, and are starting to shed. Soon as the ground defrosts a bit more I’ll be moving all the fencing to allow for pasture growth to start in earnest by mid April, I hope. There’s farrier appointments, piglets on the way (waiting to hear), and all the usual fluff and stuff of minding the systems and animals that have been here over a decade.

It’s been hard. Going into spring alone after being used to going into the season with a plan, a partner, shared goals and dreams. If I am honest I’ve slumped into a survival/maintaining mode - trying to just keep the lights on the state of the farm, house, and life what it was with two people. It’s been accomplished but exhausting. I feel so creatively drained. I feel very sad most days.

But I know it isn’t permanent. I know that once the world is greener, warmer, and I get through this I will feel a lot better.

This March has been an exercise in extreme frugality. Most days I don’t leave the farm at all, as to not have to burn any gasoline. Sales of art, soaps, logos etc have been really slow and so if it’s not in the cupboard, not walkable from the house, or not a 100% necessary appointment or bill - I’ve not been going or paying. I am trying like mad to make the February mortgage payment as soon as possible. I wish I had more joyous things to announce right now but keeping this place safe from foreclosure is all I have been thinking about.

So I will check back in when I have good news. Right now all the news I have is keeping on. And I need to believe that it will lead to safer feelings and lighter hearts.