I’m almost 39, which means I’m almost 40, which means it’s about time for another life crisis. Or upheaval. Or rebirth. Or whatever you want to call the existential pain I’m in. Lately I’m a weeping, angry, directionless, spineless blob of jelly that doesn’t want to make any decisions or changes; I only want to curl up in bed and sleep for hours uninterrupted, and when I wake, my course has been decided.
Working in this office has exposed me to a world of people I didn’t know existed. The people who pretend to work for eight hours a day, and then go home and watch television for four hours every night, so that they have something to talk about the next day because they aren’t really living their lives. The people who are so addicted to buying stuff, that’s it’s not enough to buy one item, they have to buy TWO of every item. (Yes, two of the exact same thing because the short-lived thrill of purchasing one is not enough anymore). The people who are so full of hate for anyone outside of their culture, race, or economic class, that it spews out of them constantly, and the people around them that find this an acceptable way to talk about and view the world.
I don’t know what I want, or what I want to do anymore. I have to make money, but doing this for money is not good. It’s not good to sit on your ass for eight hours a day and stare at a computer screen, pretending to work, flipping between windows every time someone walks by your computer to make it look like you weren’t scrolling through Facebook’s endless news feed. It’s not good to feel your brain rotting because yesterday you spent an hour wiping dust off the leaves of an artificial plant because there’s not enough work for a person of your intelligence and efficiency to fill eight hours. It’s not good to feel like vomiting whenever your boss says, “Coffee time!” because you know it’s going to be 15 minutes full of racist, sexist, homophobic comments, and you’re the ONLY ONE who doesn’t agree.
I’ve been trying to quit for two days now, but I’m a coward. I’ve quit jobs in the past in person, but I just can’t make myself walk into his office and say the words. I’m scared of what his reaction will be. My boss is not an unreasonable man, but he’s certainly not a kind man, nor a very understanding man. I’d like to just leave a letter on his desk and walk away for good. Can I do that?
Anyway, here’s a more uplifting topic.
We butchered the pigs. (Okay, that wasn’t super uplifting, I realize) It was a difficult weekend, but I would raise pigs again. Will did the hardest part of dispatching them. I’m in awe of what he’s been able to do. He’s incredibly brave (and I’m so cowardly, I can’t even quit a job. Sheesh!)
Pig weekend was hard work but very satisfying. Thanks to Jess and Cordell and Bailey who came to help out. We ended up with about 300 pounds of meat (or as I put it, "a f*ckton of meat, which my brother informed me is 10 sh*tloads). #pasturedpork #homebutchering #readyforwinter #thankyoupigs #grateful #family #countrylife
We had a ridiculously early snow at the beginning of October, and the roads were so bad, we were snowed in for a day. It was very pretty, though. We got a blade for our tractor since our little John Deere snow blower couldn’t handle the wet, heavy snow.
Jenna enjoyed the snowy days very much, but sadly my carrots and beets were still in the garden (I got them out eventually,and they were just fine. Actually, I think it helped make them a bit sweeter!)
We bought some straw bales from a farmer near Vonda (not too far from us). I used them to insulate the coop, and provide a cozy spot for Jedi the barn cat. Three of my five chicks are confirmed to be roosters, and two of them are total assholes to the hens, so it makes my decision quite easy on who to keep and who to send to freezer camp. They’re all so beautiful, though. Seems awful to dispatch such handsome roos.
Day 1 of #top5homesteadingfavorites hosted by @southwest.shenanigans! Day one is #homesteading. My top five faves about homesteading: 1) Animals. I love animals. Always have. Even as a child, I much preferred the company of animals to humans. Out here, I can have soooooo many animals, even a kitty, which I can't have inside because I'm terribly allergic. 2) Gardening. I have a ginormous garden out here, probably about three times the size of the garden I had in the city (which took up most of my backyard). 3) Food. I can raise, grow, and harvest the majority of my food. I have control over my food supply, and that's really important to me. 4) Solitude. I'm an introvert. I need a lot of time alone. I need quiet. I love the peace and solitude of working on the homestead. 5) Connection to my roots. My family on both sides homesteaded in this area. Since our ethnic culture was either forgotten after leaving the home country or discarded on purpose in the interest of self-preservation (did you know that Canada put over 10,000 Ukrainians in concentration/labour camps during WWI?), homesteading is the only way I feel connected to my ancestors. Canada is too young to have its own culture, and sometimes, it makes me feel very disconnected. Homesteading tethers me to the earth.
We made bacon. It turned out quite salty, but yummy. Less Mortons next time.
I feel prepared for winter now. I wasn’t feeling very prepared a few weeks ago, but now I’m ready. I know that time will work everything out eventually; it always does. It’s just so difficult getting through the fumbly parts, where nothing is decided for sure and too many things are up in the air. I try to live my life by design, instead of by default, but I’m not so convinced these days that it’s the best philosophy. I would love to throw up my hands right now, and surrender these petty human difficulties to a higher power. Let the gods sort it out, not I. Perhaps that’s what I need to do anyway – just let go a bit and let life happen for awhile instead of always having to be in charge.
Until next time, take care everyone!