5:35 am and already I feel like I might be running late. The forecast is an unseasonably hot day, could reach 100 degrees. In Spokane where we live, this is expected in July or August, certainly not in June. I have 2 choices as I look to the day ahead; grumble, complain and feel sorry for myself, or just get to work doing whatever I can to keep all living things in my care as hydrated and comfortable as possible in the scorching heat. A no-brainer really … why make what might be a rough day even tougher with a bad attitude. I get out of bed and get started.

In the main I take care of our small farm and run our household. The chickens, dogs, and garden involve a daily routine that even in moderate weather occupy a good portion of the day. Today I know I’ll be  going at it all day long. Good thing it’s work I’ve chosen and work I love, all of it …even the yucky, stinky, back-breaking, sometimes heart rending, exhausting, mundane day-to-day chores of caring for beloved pets, plants and wild things. That’s farm life. 

How did a girl from Chicago end up with her elbows in buckets of chicken manure compost? Gotta be passed down through the blood of my Eastern European farming ancestors that runs through my veins. 

The time passes swiftly. By 10:30 the sun is blazing, I’m sweating, hydrating, and pushing to complete watering the garden before my hard stop at 11:00. By then the sun beating down on me is just too much, and if I stay out longer I’ll be worthless for the rest of the day. 

I’ve learned that it’s mostly all about water here in the high desert. Plants will grow and thrive, IF you can get water to penetrate the compact granite soil to nourish their tender roots. Coming from the rich damp soils of the coast as I did 10 years ago, it’s taken me a while to fully appreciate how challenging it can be to keep plants hydrated. Mulch has become my gold standard. 

Adding to the challenge summer temperatures came early this year … an entire month early. That translates into cramming several weeks of spring chores into days and it’s been taxing. In spite of it all I’m not complaining, just saying what’s so. Everything I’m doing, I’m doing by conscious choice born from what I love. 

That’s the secret to work isn’t it? Work chosen from the heart of what we love. Then no matter what the task or how difficult or exhausting it can be, at the end of the day there is a sense of fulfillment. 

If anything suffers in my life, it’s housekeeping. UGH. I love to cook and that I do with excellence. Cleaning? Not so much. I hope no one calls the health department for an inspection … I doubt we’d pass.

My energies go to the world beyond human created walls, the ‘real’ world. The world where creatures and all living things are in touch with and kneel before the forces of nature. On my small farm I am privileged to know the healthy, natural routine of the dailiness of true life … Where beauty and brutality exist side by side and somehow orchestrate a symphony of meaning that whispers, “You belong here …” 

I have no way of knowing if this current weather pattern is the new normal, but it really does’t matter. I am aware that I have at best only a little impact to effect change in the forces that bring heat waves, high winds and drought. But, I can do my best and most of all be willing to adjust to change. 

Even so isn’t it hard to let go of the way it ‘should’ be? I guess it’s only human to want to keep certain aspects of our lives static, and resist the inevitable shifting and changes brought on by forces out of our control. When it comes right down to it, a lot if not most of life is out of our control … that’s the good news and the not so good news.

Good news? Absolutely. I’m under no illusion that I know how things ‘should’ be. I have no future vision, no omniscience. How could I possibly say what ought to be. That’s something I’ve learned working with nature. It shows you your proper status in this world and that teaches humility before that which is indomitable. 

Humility is only one of many perks of farm life. Another … almost everything can be put to use. A farm is the epitome of recycling. The ‘dirty’ straw that I collect after cleaning the chicken coop goes on a pile where it rests for a full year. During that time the microbes and bacteria in the manure work their magic and turn refuse into sweet, (it actually smells sweet!) nutrient rich soil and organic material that nourishes the plants in my garden. 

There are countless uses for tired pieces of field fence, broken bricks, worn wooden boards and posts, and cracked clay pots that would otherwise end up in the landfill. Add some in cable ties, PVC pipe, a few tools and a heap of ingenuity, wave your magic wand and presto! The magic of recycling … nothing goes to waste. 

Perhaps the real treasure found in the heart of farm life is that whatever you grow, there always seems to be an abundance to share. For me it’s eggs, flowers, pumpkins, and canned goods from ripe red tomatoes and plump sweet berries. 

However, it seems to me that whatever work you do, when you do it from the deep love born into your heart when you were nothing more than stardust, goodness follows. This goodness simply begs to burst open and flow into the world around you.

Years ago my daughter was going through a difficult time in her life. In the community where she lived there was a place called The Pantry. On a specific day of the week she could go and get some life-sustaining food. Even over the phone I could clearly hear the excitement in her voice when she came home with a bag of fresh produce and eggs.  

In her honor I pack up little cartons of eggs that my husband Dan delivers every Wednesday to our local food bank. I have chosen my chickens for many qualities and one thing that is very important to me is the color of their shells. Whenever a carton of eggs leave our farm they look like Easter eggs … dark brown, light brown, pinkish, aqua, soft olive green, and white. 

I get tremendous pleasure putting these colorful treasures together. While I am hoping these colorful eggs lift the spirits of another in need, it’s really a gift I give myself. That’s the curiously circular thing about working from the deep heart of that which we love … the gift comes right back to you, like a boomerang. 

Whatever your circumstances, giving back, no matter how small you might think your offering to be, it is a reliable way to bring joy into your life … Like my credit union’s motto says, “Do good, feel good!”