It’s the first day of a new chapter. 

The morning began under an overcast sky with a temperature of about 18°C and a light south-southwest wind. The forecast was calling for 27 degrees later in the day, although looking out the window that seemed a little optimistic.

Today wasn’t really about the weather.

It was about finding a new rhythm.

Life changes.

Sometimes gradually.

Sometimes all at once.

The animals, however, don’t know anything has changed. They still expect breakfast. They still expect fresh water. They still depend on someone showing up.

By 11:14 this morning the chores here at home were finished.

The broody hens and their chicks had all been fed and watered.

The chickens, ducks, pigs, Maple and Brooke, the puppies, Roscoe and River had all been looked after.

Even a couple of sinkfuls of dishes got washed.

I’d call that a productive morning.

As I sat down for a few minutes, I found myself wondering how best to organize my days going forward.

Should I rest through the hottest part of the afternoon and head to the barn later?

Or should I simply power through, get everything finished, and enjoy the evening knowing the work was done?

Today, I chose to power through.

It turned out to be the right decision.

By late afternoon I was still at the barn.

Another section of fence line was trimmed, and the sheep were moved into fresh pasture.

Once again they quietly followed me, making the move almost effortless.

The sheep and goats were all fed and watered.

Patsy was milked.

The evening chores were completed.

I even managed to get by with doing only the essentials for the rabbits, knowing they were fine and that sometimes good farming is about understanding what absolutely has to be done today and what can reasonably wait until tomorrow.

Nothing was neglected.

Just prioritized.

By the time I made the ten-minute walk back through the woods to the house, I’d probably put in a seven- or eight-hour day.

For the first full day of a new routine…

I’ll gladly take that.

Back home another little job was waiting.

The load of laundry I’d started earlier had finished, so I hung it out on the clothesline to dry.

It’s funny how ordinary things can seem like accomplishments.

Life isn’t made up only of big moments.

Sometimes it’s dishes washed.

Laundry drying in the breeze.

Dogs sleeping after a day’s work.

Sheep content in fresh pasture.

Goats chewing their cud.

Sometimes those little things quietly remind us that everything is going to be all right.

By six o’clock I faced what was probably the biggest decision of the day.

Nap…

Or supper?

The nap was tempting.

After all, I’d earned it.

But experience has taught me that a “short nap” at six in the evening often turns into a full night’s sleep.

So…

Supper won.

Tonight’s menu was simple.

Sliced ham.

Pan-fried fries made from raw potatoes.

Seasoned with nothing more complicated than salt, pepper and garlic.

After a full day on the farm, it tasted just about perfect.

Looking back over today, I realize it wasn’t really about getting everything exactly right.

It was about proving to myself that I can do this.

The routine may be different.

It may continue to evolve over the coming weeks.

There will undoubtedly be adjustments to make.

But the chores got done.

The animals were cared for.

And Briden Farm continues moving forward.

One pasture.

One meal.

One load of laundry.

One day at a time.

Tomorrow…

We’ll do it all again.