October 17th, one year ago today, is the day I took possession of this rocky land and old house. I was a little frightened to come out here all by myself (no cats, no dogs, just me, the city girl), so I stayed at the bed and breakfast in Troy, NY two extra nights while I screwed up the courage to move out into the woods, alone.
I was full of plans and dreams of how I was going to start a business that rents out goats to eat weeds, called targeted grazing. I was going to transform my life from one where I spend my energy helping big corporations make more money into one where I help the environment and work outside. Never mind that neither this property nor the house have seen care in 20 years, the property can't support goats without a LOT of work, and you can count the times I've touched a goat in my life on one hand.
One year later, here I am, sans goats, sans outside work, and sans enthusiasm. I'm moving wood today and still struggling with something that should be simple - the raised beds. A year is a short time, and this feeling is likely temporary I know, but how does one start something like this so late in life, when the timescale for beginning is so long? Winter is coming on, and I'll spend the time making new friends and thinking about this again. My hopes and dreams haven't changed, and it's possible I'll be renewed with the spring. We'll see.
Mish mash this and that
6 hours ago