Busy Hands Homestead

Tired is lodged between my shoulder blades.   I pick a shovel and one scoop   at a time close up the trench connecting the power from the shop to the shell of our house. Seven hours later I shower and drive Adam to the airport.  He is mostly out of town for two weeks and I have no option but to keep moving.  Every day starts and ends with an impossibly long to do list.    I am woken up Tuesday morning a semi load of insulation being dropped off at my curb.  After work an (unbelievably kind) neighbor and I lug each giant bag of rock wool into the house and pile some in every room - down stairs and up the stairs – until my arms no longer can hug the bags to my chest.   Wednesday night we do the same, but when I try to bear hug the first bag insulation to me I find I can’t carry a single one on my own.   As we round up the corner of the stairs the first time a flutter catches my eye.   An owl is trapped against ...

The bright light creeps into the ceiling vent in the back end of the bus. We heat water for coffee on the picnic table.  I sheepishly greet the crew of workers that show up as I shuffle through the yard in my slippers and pajamas to grab half and half from the fridge in the garage. The summer work weeks are broken up by a weekend trip down the Bitterroot Valley. Logger Days in Darby Montana Jumping High at Logger Days Jump Jump Jump No Hands Water Melon Eating Contest Cooking Dinner under the Big Sky The days are marked by stops at the river, impromptu back yard slumber parties, movie marathons and games of hide and seek have expand to cover the whole block.  We pick huckleberries, cherries show up in our CSA delivery, the apricots on our tree are sweet and juicy,  the plums are turning red but still hold firmy to the tree. It is the first time this tree has fruit.  Red Plum Surprise!! I am reading our way through the stack of...