Post Covid

 Ten days ago, just as I came towards the end of ten weeks training,  I felt ill at afternoon break, tested positive for Covid, and pretty much checked out for the next five days.

As I surfaced, feeling slightly better, Neil came down with it. I'm back at work, blessedly having a very light schedule the end of last week, but feeling utterly shattered. Neil is getting better, but the heatwave isn't helping anyone.

Over the years we've handled hay making in a number of ways. Last year, we got no hay - the contractor we normally use left us til later and later in the year, and finally left it too late. We bought in hay but weren't keen on doing that again Financially it's not probably any great gain making our own hay - we don't own a tractor any more, so pay someone to do all of it.  However, our hay is our hay, and it's better than everyone else's !

That is to say, that we don't spray or treat it, it's a very diverse sward, and it's a rather special site. 

This year, we've changed contractor and gone very early for us.  The bales were made yesterday and Neil and I went to sit up there and eat fish and chips - a long time ago, with two little girls, we would do that after we'd physically carted 300+ bales by hand, in a little home made flat bed trailer, towed by our 4x4. This year was very different, but nevertheless it was lovely to sit by a bale at sunset. They will be brought in today.

I'm now ridiculously tired and sitting sleepily with a fan on watching the Wimbledon men's final.

Current plans involve trying to safe enough of the veg plot to give us some food over winter and then plan well ahead for next year, and working over our tiny home garden to make it a lovely place to enjoy during these hot days and evenings.

Also, since finishing training, my work hours are down to 25 so I need to reschedule my regular week to get more home and garden work done.

Covid 19 and the return to all that matters

Over the last month, all of us have seen the world change. No one is untouched. No country unharmed.
This little group of islands is taking a proper battering. As I come back to my online home, I suppose for comfort, and familiarity, our Prime Minister is in Intensive Care with the virus which is ripping apart the world.
We live in a kind of stilled, empty space, and yet time races on. We are nearly a third of the way through yet another year, the weeks pass at a terrifying rate, and yet nothing happens, to us anyway - which is really good. Because all the stuff that is happening is pretty bad.
We stand on the promises of God. Both girls work from home, Neil, with no work at all for his business, works all day on our land, and I - I go out every day and work in a care home. Thankfully not just any care home, but the light on the hill, a place hedged around with prayer, and upheld by the prayers of the righteous, which availeth much. We just go on.

Everything begins 'if we get through this...' which I believe we will, or 'when things get back to normal...', which I pray they won't.  This is an extraordinary time. A time like no other in history. A world suspended.  Let's never, never, got back to normal.

Two decades ago, we were led to come here, led to the land, led to work on it.  We're a bit off message, to tell the truth, it's all gone a bit awry.  But, per force, Neil is now working, working to put back together the resource we were blessed with, and we have time, time and more time to work out whats next.

We have an opportunity to learn to live on half what we were earning, a bright hope that we can get out of debt come what may, and that we will be in a place where we can follow that calling and just see where it leads. Too long we've waited to know where the road is going, before we set out. Now we must just, like Christian, set forth on our pilgrimage - and find out where it leads.

If we get through this (we will) and when things get back to normal (I pray they won't) the world will have changed forever. Our frugal ways and plain and simple days will be ... what? ... the new normal? An aspiration? A place of faith?

And yet, I came home here, to write that down.