I’ve never been so happy to muck out the pole barn.
Last night after trying to get my Dymo Label Maker to work for the whole afternoon, I finally conceded that it was time to get a new one. I’ve had my Dymo Label Maker for fifteen years, and was reluctant to give it up.
I use it to make the labels for my wool, among other things. Without labels, shipping out my wool was delayed.
But this morning Jon and I got up early and were at Staples in Bennington VT when they opened. There was one Dymo Label Maker left and I got it.
I naively thought that I was going to get home, plug it in and start making my labels. I did everything I was supposed to do, downloading the new software and putting in the labels, but for some reason it wasn’t working.
No one answered the phone at Dymo, so I called Apple Care and after trying a bunch of different things, (I can’t even pretend to remember what we did) the man on the other end of the phone got my label maker to work (Bless him).
I quickly printed out labels for Merricat, Constance and Issachar’s wool. Then I closed my computer and tied the labels onto each skein of wool.
When I got done, it was time to feed the animals and there was nothing more I wanted to do. I didn’t have time for a walk, but I could take my time mucking out the barn.
I scraped the hard packed earth with the shovel, getting every last little sheep pellet. I carefully raked the donkey poop out of every corner and crevice.
I took long deep breaths of cold air, feeling it freeze the hairs inside my nose. It was like drinking a cold glass of water on a hot day.
The donkeys and sheep won’t recognized the barn I thought. As if someone took a vacuum to it. I cleaned out the chicken coop and filled up everyone’s water bowl, even thought they were mostly full already.
I did whatever I could do to stay outside a little bit longer.
I craved the fresh air.
I craved the simplicity of raking up manure, scooping it with the shovel and tossing it on the manure pile. I craved the immediacy of removing the soiled straw from the hen house and the satisfaction of replacing it with clean straw. And I was nourished by the nurturing act of filling up each water bowl.
Outside, there are no pop up windows on a screen asking me multiple choice questions that I didn’t know how to answer.
Just the simple, physical work and immediate gratification of taking care of animals on a winter afternoon.
I think this is a fantastic example of the work independent business owners and artists perform on behalf of their patrons. The details can be maddening, and time consuming. I’m glad you closed your day with fresh air and physical work, Maria. Thank you for all you do.
I really love what I do Maggie, even the shipping and sometimes even the bookkeeping [sometimes :)] But those maddening times are a part of all of our lives in one way or another.
Thank you for your thoughts while cleaning the barn on a cold day. I too crave the fresh air of winter and can think of nothing better some days. There is a feeling of pure bliss caring for our animals.
It’s so often where I want to be Georgeanne.
I love this, Maria. The older I get, the simpler tasks make me feel grounded.
That’s interesting Barb. I didn’t I think I’ve felt that way for a long time, but wasn’t aware of it.