Tuesday was for planting strawberries and thyme. Not a bad activity, in my opinion. I spent my hours digging in the dirt contemplating my imminent life. That will have it’s own entry soon enough, I think.
Afterwards Barak and I resumed training the ponies, which is supposed to be happening twice daily. They apparently need to learn to like people and walk in circles so they can be sold at market. They were terrified of humans when I first arrived, but today I got both of them to come to me without having to corner them. And I didn’t coax them with food either. That was pretty satisfying. And I’m glad the fear is gone from their eyes, I found that terribly sad. Animals in captivity always upsets me a bit, no matter the circumstances, but especially if they are obviously unhappy, or frightened, or some other negative emotion. The one I have mainly been working with is especially becoming trusting and affectionate. I will miss them when they go!
Wednesday produced a surprise trip to the legendary bog. We were to collect peat. Basically we piled the dry and mostly-dry bricks of it into wheelbarrows and bagged them. Pretty simple, but kind of difficult since pushing heavy wheelbarrows through gushy bog mud is…strenuous. It is not something I would choose to do for the rest of my days, but it was not as awful as I was made to expect by the comments from John and his sister. It is amazing, though, how mighty a ham and cheese sandwich can taste after a few hours of work. The day proved nice for the work, and the experience was interesting at least. My muscles will protest in the morning.
My hands are officially done for. I am finding it difficult to recall how a person can lead a normal life without having an assemblage of cuts and scratches adorning their skin. My feet have reserved themselves to forever dwelling in wellies. Today during a bout of sun I discarded my wellies and wool socks and sat outdoors. I think my body is unable to decide whether all of this new work and weather is beneficial or harmful…
So, I adore Irish weather. John said it would be hot his week. “Hot meaning…?” was my reply. Weather is entirely relative to where you are from or where you have lived. Hot here apparently is in the sixties. Psh, and they think Florida sounds nice. The temperature is dream-worthy, but my favorite part is the wind. I have never witnessed such fierceness in nature, never such hugeness to the wind, but I find it delightful. The sound, the look, the feel, everything about it has a way of surrounding you and demanding your marvel.
Well, now that I’ve given in to goat milk, I’ve decided to face my plant nemesis:
the stinging nettle.
Mainly because I researched it and it is high in iron. *sigh* my lack of vegan diet lately has presumably not done wonders for my excessively low iron, and so, nettle consumption it is. First I had some in tea, and that was admittedly lovely, and second I had it in a smoothie, and that too was good. Soup is next on the menu…
Things You Can Get Used To continued: various bugs and insects. Today I noticed a slug on my wrist and actually had to think about whether I was going to take the time/make the effort to brush it off.