My apologies for the lag in posting - predictably, returning to the working world has eaten my brain while I try to figure out my new normal. Somewhere in the last few weeks, I also made a trip to North Dakota to take a wool classing class with NDSU’s Sheep Extension. I’m still processing the information I got there and have been trying to find some words to describe the visceral feeling of the experience, but I haven’t quite gotten it all sorted in my head yet. In particular, there’s a vibe about sheep people that’s just a little bit different from the other parts of the ag world that I am trying to put a finger on, but I was certainly fully reminded that the folks who choose to raise livestock live a different, slightly charmed life.

Right on the heels of returning from ND, I found myself demonstrating spinning at a local community event with fellow fiber friends. A guest asked me about how I got into spinning and what other textile crafts I enjoyed and did I own any animals? The discussion led down the road to me laughingly talking about my little hodge-podge farm and all the different animals that live here and the person I was talking to was aghast at what (to her) must have seemed to be an insurmountable pile of chores that I have to do on a daily basis. I assured her that I’ve got my routine down to about 15 minutes unless I need to fill tanks - in which case, it’s about half an hour a few times a week. There’s some errand running once a week to pick up feed, and a few times a year I have to do a big haul of hay. Realistically, of all the things I’ve got going on in my life at the moment, the farm is the easy part.

On a near-daily basis now, I have to expend far more effort to wear respectable clothing, makeup and a hairdo, plus pack a lunch, make a commute and do stuff for 8 hours to earn my paycheck. That, my friends, is work. I like my new job and as jobs go, I have a lot more opportunity ahead of me than I ever have had before. Make no mistake in thinking my attitude is one of drudgery, but there’s a definite “must do” label that gets applied. Is it my life’s dream to work in accounting? Probably not - but is it going to benefit me in the long run? You bet. By comparison, do I love feeding livestock in 25mph freezing wind while being pelted by snow and sand? Not hardly. However, when the job is done and I’m back in the kitchen peeling off layers and shaking the hay out of my hair, I’m oddly happy and it’s very difficult to explain why. If you know, you know, I suppose.

I am often reminded of the Wu Li quote (as best as can be attributed - there’s some debate), “Before enlightenment, chop wood and carry water; After enlightenment, chop wood and carry water.” The Cliff Notes version, “Chop wood, carry water” has become an almost daily mantra of mine through the years. It’s carried me through both good times and times of devastating heartbreak. It reminds me that the everyday tasks form the foundations of who it is that we are - our goals are reflected in what we choose to pay attention to on the smallest level. Our day to day survival depends on how well we can shed the extraneous bullshit and focus on what’s important - and sometimes there’s only room for the basics. Our growth really can come down to learning how to make our beds every single morning, no matter how rushed we are. Sometimes the mundane seems the most tedious when times are good and we’d much rather be doing something more fun. Yet, when times are the hardest (at least for me), I draw heavily on the comfort of doing the most basic things knowing that they’re the foundation for everything else. Some days, it’s getting my butt to work. Other days it’s quite literally chopping wood and carrying water.

So while raising livestock continues to raise eyebrows, and spinning my own yarn classifies me as a whole new level of eccentric, these things aren’t cause for resentment because they require effort - even if that effort is significant from time to time. They are my rock and foundation for everything that I am and the point from which the rest of me grows. For this, I don’t mind being a little different. When someone asks, I smile and tell them, “It’s my happy place.”

As we barrel headlong into the craziness of the holidays, my genuine wish for all of you is to be able to find peace in the mundane and joy in the simple things.

Until next time, be well.