Wife, writer, tinkerer, grower of food. I'm happiest outside our rambling farmhouse with a basket looped on my arm, picking dinner from the garden. That's joy right there. Please follow along; I'm so glad you're here!
We were so overdue. Patrick didn't have rehearsal on Sunday, like he usually does, and it was awesome. Sometimes I get to spend extra time with him and it is extra good and I don't want to give him back-- it's exactly that stubborn possessive feeling toddlers get when they don't want to share their favorite toy. But give him back I do-- to his job, to the band-- but not without a sly hope for extra time together in the future.
We hiked. Lord. We needed it. Our last hike was over a month ago, and with the kitchen work eating up our Saturdays, usually, we must subsist on the occasional rare Sunday off to get a hike in. Poor Del has been jonesing.
We made it count, though.
I only discovered this loop back in the fall, and somehow, it makes life in general a lot better. Being able to take a terrific, long, scenic and wild hilly hike without having to drive anywhere is my happy place. The loop is probably three miles or so-- we walk way out the river road, then up up up a very steep windy hill road, and then there is this magnificent little dead end/driveway that improves into a stone wall-bordered farm road as we walk in away from civilization. There's a gorgeous stone farmhouse that's only used in the summertime (if at all?) and surrounding barns, a farm pond, and some old machinery lying around... and as we walk past all this, further into the woods, we pass another old place, even further into decline than the first.
This time, we stopped to explore a little.
I don't know why I love shambles like this, but I do.
It was a good hike. The best part is letting Del off-leash, which we (and he) are getting gradually more comfortable with. Mostly, he is an angel. Mostly. Yesterday he ate lots of snow and snuffled for mice in the dead weeds, and did lots of gleeful dog-bounding. Sweet guy. This kitchen work has not been his favorite thing, but he (and we) are suffering through it.