A day in the life

of someone I'd like to know

I wake up before the sun and find my slippers. I flick on a switch and warm light washes over the spare living room full of plants. Under the vaulted ceiling I open the French doors that face East and step out onto the easy to clean concrete patio that is stained and sealed in terra cotta. It’s silent. The sun is rising just barely and there’s that pink hum just over the mountain view. The lavender is swaying quietly in the breeze and there are some birds poking their heads out of the house I built them last year out of recycled lumber and metal. I see some new green beans have bloomed. The Dahlias are opening.

Huge trees line the driveway and dew drips from the leaves. They are just far away from the house to cast a nice shadow midday but not too close to fall on the house and crush it. Inside dogs wake up with their big stretches and I hum to them YOgahhh dogggggssss STRETCH like I do every morning. The field dogs in the barn who keep an eye out for coyotes and other predators come out of the barn. The chickens are already up of course. I can hear them down the lane and I go to pick up some eggs and give them some melons I’ll never catch up on to eat. They peck around for worms in the compost and I remember that today, Betty from down the hill is coming to pick up 6 Wyandotte hens because I have decided that 14 is too many. They make a racket when they lay an egg and frankly 8 really is enough. I mostly have them for compost mixing and insect management. I hope she brings a crate.

Younger dogs run over to the creek and check the trees for critters. Older dogs roll in the grass and find a sunny stream to wait for breakfast. I change into my comfy easy pull on boots and walk the paths I cut in the native grasses and flowers I let grow wild when I fired all the lawn care guys. Now I don’t have to irrigate and I have lots of pollinators. Snakes too, but they keep the mice in line and well, the hawks can snack on something too. I have hundreds of acres and I’m lucky that the previous owner fenced the entire perimeter. Great not to have that expense.

I wave to the neighbors who are gardening with silent tools and clearing their strawberry beds with a hoe and a shovel. Since they no longer manufacture leaf blowers or riding mowers over 20db for the noise ordinance it’s nice to see folks getting in shape and just using a broom they bought down the road at Elmira’s La Vida Local. Her sister makes actual natural brooms and they have a bulk supply shop of cleaning products and seeds. They carry my Practical Mystic Mint and Geranium Cleaner and I should be mixing another batch at next full moon. Am I out of amber glass bottles? I better go into my workshop and do a count.

But first I walk over to the bakery about 4 blocks from the house on a path that is next to the roadway with a speed limit of 25. There’s a bike lane separately so you don’t have to get in the way of and secretly curse the existence of, enthusiastic morning cyclists. Everyone says good morning or at least gives a wave. The feed store is on the way and I ask them to drop off some millet today. I can hear the dogs barking at a chipmunk from down the road but know that they are all in their fenced dog play wooded area and cannot run out and I can buy sourdough in peace.

The baker is busy and friendly and the place smells like coffee, chocolate and hot yeast rolls. I have a mug on the wall and the cashier makes me a cafe au lait on the spot and adds it to my tab. I’m still technically in my pyjamas. Bill Evans Trio is on the CD player and I chat with the butcher about the lamb he just got in from the farm down the road and he says he’ll deliver a few racks to the house later. If I’m not home he knows to put them in the freezer in the studio.

Back home I open the skylights, feed the dogs, open front and back doors and windows and just dust mop the whole house in 10 minutes. So easy to clean and efficient. Less than 1000 sq ft or organized clean space with good natural light. I sit down at the warm wood desk that the carpenter in town made out of a tree stump and begin the day of writing, web updates for nice ladies who run non profits that do good work and go through donations for the dog rescue I run on site.

We’re building another barn with sleeping bins for another 20 dogs and a puppy stable and gift shop for the Saturday Adoption Parties. I have lots of volunteers who help me run the Doggo Barn Thrift Store and I’m so lucky to have so many gifted merchandisers who happen to be dog lovers. We cycle in and out of 8 different volunteers so no one gets burn out and I have a full time resident who helps me with the dogs and the farm and lives for free in their own Airstream that they park down by the creekside. We share an outdoor kitchen and wood fired pizza oven next to the veg garden.

Time to run errands and stop in town for some more printer paper and pick up my shoes at the cobbler, have to resole my boots. Everything is about 3 miles away. I stop at the gas station, get my oil changed and drive my old well loved minivan back home. There’s an estate sale in the next town I want to check out.

I don’t expect life to be perfect, but I have a nice community, creative pastimes, full days with good dogs, good people and good food. On the way back to town around sunset I’ll stop off at a friend’s for dinner. He’s always experimenting with new dishes from the garden but I go for the stories. He has a kooky house built into a berm. We laugh a lot. Back home, I sleep well and go into my 60s with ease, a creative mind and a full heart knowing I’m living on purpose. I am loved.

(I don’t know who this person is but I want it to be me.)