t has been a pretty normal week on the farm. We've been weeding, watering, planting fall crops, and processing chickens. The challenge of the week is the broken down skid steer which has Bill a little perplexed.
This morning Liam took me and Pixie foraging to harvest wild mint for your boxes. It was just as the refreshing cool of the night was giving way to the heat of the day. We scrambled over the woven wire fence of the pasture to begin our adventure. It was quiet and peaceful as we followed the goat trails down to the south-facing creek bank.
On the way Liam showed me the huge, ominous thorns on the old black locust trees lining the hillside. He pointed out the spot in one of the trees where crows had made a nest using the thorns some years ago. After having all three of the kids put thorns through their boots over the years, we treat them with a healthy dose of reverence and respect.
We could smell the mint before we got to the patch. It was overwhelming and heady. I was only 300 or so yards from our front yard but felt I was in a different world. My skin seemed to glow from the sun's rays. Liam was telling me precious stories of hiding in a particular ring of locust trees when he was much younger. And I fell in love with the moment, full of thanks for this amazing life I lead.
Of course, the need to harvest the mint and finish the newsletter quickly brought me back to reality. We finished our job and reluctantly headed back up the hill, but not before stoppi