Three Years and a Few Days

Our third anniversary on the farm happened to fall on the day we drove back from New Jersey: not one minute in that 24 hours was actually spent here.

Perhaps it's an annual frustration, but I have been fighting discouragement looking back over the last year. The list of where we are hasn't changed much: we're still without any permanent structures (though the metal building is getting close); we're still partway done with fencing, without progress on a dwelling, without milk production, without a well-functioning greenhouse.

Really, reading the list of what was undone a year ago felt like we had been standing still for the last year.

So what have we accomplished in the last year?

• We sold off our sheep, focusing our efforts elsewhere.
• Phil has been rotationally grazing land to the north and south. He's mowed down blackberries, and we've been pleased with the few worms we've seen in the cow patties. (There used to be none.)
• Fencing on the land to the north now divides the slope into paddocks. Automatic waterers mean we don't need to cart water around daily. Cow moves go more quickly.
• The greenhouse is one quarter full of comfrey. That will hopefully multiply to plants across the orchard.
• We've had three surviving calves born this year, bringing the total to fifteen. We've had no milk from any, but perhaps next spring.
• I went from two hives to one last year, and the one hive multiplied to three.
• I grafted some apple trees. Some continue to do well, despite no additional irrigation.
• Phil cleared a good bit in the lower pasture. We chipped piles of trees, though there is plenty more to finish.
• Phil spent much time felling trees and sawing them.
• The metal building framework is finished, leaving only the skin to be completed.
• We have a farm plan that we are working towards, slowly.
• We planted 10,000 daffodils.
• We grew garlic in the ground, rather than in raised beds. In some ways, disappointing in size, but to get a crop from this ground is satisfying.
• The peach orchard is laid out on contour. The cherry orchard is moved to the lower pasture.

I was rereading an old favorite, The Wounds of God, recently. One man, after being told he was going downhill, said that no, "The road climbs upwards, upwards to the light. It must do. It wouldn't be such hard going if it was going downhill."

In some ways, that helped me. As I struggle on, it helps to think that the road is not always uphill only for me. It's helpful that I'm going uphill to the light, not just trudging on, endlessly and unsuccessfully.