It's spring time, at least in our high tunnels. This morning we shoveled out the last high tunnel so that we could place the plastic over the frame. By the end of the week, most of the snow on the inside will melt, and soon after, so will the frost in the ground inside of it. Within a couple of weeks, probably the first week of February, we will begin planting in there. So, when I say that it is spring in there, I am being literal.

A chicken run that is demolished from the big snowstorm in December, a thermostat on the combine that has failed, a broken field disc, flat tire on one of the tractors, and a couple of small repairs on two rototillers are just some of the repairs that have accumulated at the end of the season for us. To be sure, we have some time to do this; it's just that it's clear that growing food is as hard on the equipment as it is on our backs sometimes.

Still, I cannot imagine a better life. Susan is cooking a stew right now made from fresh and stored ingredients and I can hardly wait to start eating. There is always something to be done, but most of the time, it is fulfilling. I would rather fall asleep at the end of the day from exhaustion after working all day with Susan than fall asleep from boredom watching the television. Also, the ebbs and flows of the season allow us some time for introspection.

To be certain, there are always things to do out here, but winter also affords us time to read and think. We get to spend some time with our family friends, and we get to spend some time together. Sure our life is busy, and some days seem to last forever, but being connected to our food, we get a chance to slow down enough to appreciate the true experience of living. It is a lifestyle as old as humanity, and I am thankful to have the opportunity to live this way.