The past week has felt uneventful, as life often does when routines start to set in place. I wake up at the crack of dawn for my breakfast shift to the sound of sheep bahhh-ing outside my bedroom window. This is a sound that, while thoroughly charming, also makes me feel like they’re yelling first thing in the morning. I try to remind myself that we’re neighbors and that they have every right to express themselves in their home, which, this week, just so happens to be the grazing pasture ten feet away from my cottage. They’re incredibly precious but don’t really want anything to do with humans, so the mama sheep and lambs back away from the fence when I approach. This is unlike the cows who come up to me asking for a forehead scratch while they try to lick me with their unusual tongues that have a rough texture that I am still struggling to get used to.
Even with all the beauty and wonders of the farm, it’s still natural for the day in and day out to feel monotonous at times. The days start early and end early to start again, and most of my solace is found sitting by Lake Champlain or watching the sunset from my porch which overlooks the Adirondack Mountains. Throughout the day though, I find myself still clinging to the joy that comes with being somewhere that I feel I belong. I owe working with the Normans for the past several years for helping bring me to this kind of place, and I am so looking forward to the days when John & Eris Norman will be able to come and visit me here this summer to fill the void of not being at the stands.