If the first week of 2014 is any indication, this is going to be the year of How Much Shit Can You Handle At Once? A foot of snow? Two? -15 degree temps outside and a 102 degree fever?
Sure. Why not. (This is how the cat and I have been coping with the general level of germs in the house right now… hiding our faces.)
For the last week I was blaming my exhaustion on the holidays and the snow. I’ve never been very good at heeding the warning signs of potential illness and, you know, taking it easy. And then my body is all, “If you don’t sit down right now, I’m going to make you sit down.” Which is always followed by a brief battle of wills and then FEVER.
Body wins every time.
But, as it turns out, being completely unable to regulate your own body temperature does not exempt a person from farm chores or trying to dig your way out of your own property.
Me. Fever. Head condom. Shovel. Snow drifts that are thigh-high.
I would like to be comatose on the couch under fifteen blankets, but the farm is constantly teaching me lessons about preference vs. ability. Turns out you can do a lot of things, even if you don’t necessarily want to. Shoveling three feet of snow out of the way to get to the tractor is one of them.
Since I don’t have any better stories for you today than fevers and snow– and that’s a depressing note to end on– I’ll leave you with this…
Donkeys opening Christmas presents.
Farm life is totally worth it. Even with a fever.