The Routine of Farming and Writing
I’m ready for winged and four-legged needs to tie me down. For them to rope me into a rhythm that keeps them alive and breathes pattern into the chaos. Of words and travel and meetings.
In just over a week, 6 guinea keets and 16 chicks will arrive here at God’s Whisper Farm. A month or two later, goat kids will come to frolic in the western town that P is building out of pallets.
Soon, the number of lives I help maintain will move from 6 to 34, and I feel a little tremor in my chest . . .