A Day at the Cottage

I am tired, and kind of sore all over, mostly shoulders and back, and my fingers and hands bear the stab wounds of a thousand nasty little thorns, but I feel good. I spent most of the day picking rose-hips, which are a berry sized thing, but they’re harder than a berry and totally inedible, I’m pretty sure, and it seemed like an awful lot of work to make tea that I don’t really care about, but it did bring me closer to nature. How much closer. Well, at one point I actually had a branch, a thorny branch, up my nose. That was an uncomfortable moment. I also helped move a whole bunch of dirt from one location to another, scoured the chicken run for fallen walnuts, and inadvertently let about half the hens out -chickens are not smart, they are creatures of instinct, but they are fast to spot an opportunity, and it was O.K. anyway. They have the run of the place. Also, picked some apples.
I often avoid going to the cottage because it’s a bit dull, but I enjoy a day like today and I must say, I am impressed with my in-laws effective land use. It’s not a big plot, maybe an acre at most, but there are cherry trees, apple trees, plum trees, walnut trees, a couple of rosehip bushes, a row of blackberries, a vegetable garden and, as I mentioned, chickens. Also, this year they grew some of the biggest damn pumpkins I’ve ever seen in my life.

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