It’s all packed. Everything. In boxes. Ready to move up to the farm. Little brother Nick is helping us with a pickup, as the Saturn just won’t quite hold the whetstone AND all our garbage. We’ll be in Spearfish next week – aiming for the eleventh. It’s almost as though Jeremy consulted his astrologist on this. Or could have been the Old Farmer’s Almanac.
So biding our time, we’re finishing up the last few days here: I’m at the office, Jeremy is drinking lots of coffee and reading lots of books, late nights talking about ordering seeds/crop rotation/planting schedules/budgets. Maybe we’re cramming. Yes. We are cramming. All this happy excitement is frosted with a thick sort of melancholy. Saying goodbye to all our lovely New Mexico family and friends. It’s pretty much the pits. Except that we’re bringing New Mexico’s finest mutt with us. And bags full of beans.
More about the dog. We’ve been teaching her how to thin carrots.
Hope all is well for 2012!