I woke at my normal farmer with chores to do time. Did all the things I needed to do and then realized that I had to dog proof the mudroom. Momo and Echo usually spend their days in the shed while we are all at work or school except for the days when it is too cold for them to be out there. One would think that after going out into the bitterness for chores I would realize that they need to stay in the warmer place. But, truly I typically do not notice how cold it is until I am heading for work. Of course, then I am wearing only one pair of pants and one coat, no gloves or scarf so the cold is, well cold. The dog proofing set me a bit behind my normal leave the house time. I am one of those that prefer to arrive at work at least ten or fifteen minutes early.
On my way to work I see that my gas gauge is lower than I like it to be when it is freezing outside so I pull into the local convenience store for a cup of coffee and fuel. I prepay inside and start pumping my $15 worth. This morning I swear the pumps were dispensing molasses and it was cold, very cold molasses. Mind you I have on only one coat and one pair of pants, no hat, no scarf and no gloves and the digital read out on the pumps were moving slower than you can possible imagine. Yes, I could have gotten into my warm car. Yes, that would have been the intelligent thing to do. But I have this thing where when I am irritated I cannot give in. I could not, would not get in the car. So therefore, I stood in the cold for what seemed like forever but was actually around 20 freaking minutes pumping $15 worth of gas. I did make it to work at precisely the time I am to be there. I was frozen, but I was there.
You see, I could not be late today. I was leaving a bit early. I had an *ahem* appointment in Augusta. The annual Agricultural Trade Show is this week and today they were offering a class/talk about getting a kitchen licensed to sell food stuffs. I had to go. I had to. Guilty or not, this was something I really wanted to do. I arrive and find the area where the talk is being held. Find a seat next to this very friendly woman. She was asking me questions about why I was there and what I was interested in doing with the information that I hoped to gain, yaddy yadda. I told her that I had a small herd of goats and was considering selling jams and jellies and a few other things. I handed her my card and she handed me hers. She was a reporter from the local paper. Shit, now someone from where I was supposed to be will probably see me…in the paper. At least I am not in the District Court section. One of those days!
See the evidence article here.
p.s. The talk was fascinating and I am now deciding if I want to go commercial kitchen or creamery. More on that as it develops.
butting heads farm 