4.21.24
I love this time of the morning. It is just before dawn, that period when the sky begins to lighten yet there is no hint yet of the sun waiting to brilliantly burst over the horizon. The roosters are starting to crow, the birds tentatively start their morning chorus, and a few Tom Turkeys add their voice into the mix. A fire sputters and crackles in the old wood cookstove adding its own sounds to the otherwise peaceful morning. I did not need to light a fire today for the warmth, it is not as if it is overly chilly outside, but as a means of cooking our Sunday breakfast on. There is just something about hearing homemade sausage sizzling in the pan, the kettle singing away and the muted snap and crackle of logs in the firebox that warms the heart and makes our house a home.
With spring in full swing there is much to do on the farm. A couple more fields need harrowing, the thistles seem to be growing in leaps and bounds and now is the time to get them whacked down and under control. Darrell has been tilling up the garden plot again and the deep, loamy soil sits just begging to be planted! However, with temperatures still occasionally dipping into the twenties at night, thoughts of getting seeds and plants in the ground will have to wait a tad bit longer. Not that there are no other things to do, far from it! For example, apart from getting more soap made to fill my boxes for the upcoming market season, there are pigs in the butcher pen with a date this week to visit our cooler and a steer in the field who will soon follow! On top of that it is time to get cracking once again on Darrell’s old car, and my Nessie next in line.
The other day I saw that a young lady, whom I admire greatly, had published her latest blog post. I took the time to read it and once again I felt amazed and slightly in awe of the life they have chosen to live. Ashley Selden, along with her husband Tyler and two young children, make an annual trek from their home outside of Fairbanks, Alaska to the truly remote and wilds of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge to run a trapline for several months of the year. You may have seen them on the television series from a few years back, “The Last Alaskans”. We do not watch a lot of television as so much of what is on seems rather rubbishy to us, but we did enjoy this series. I recently discovered Ashley writes a blog (when they return to civilization!) about their life up north. It is a fascinating glimpse into her life as a trapper’s wife and now mother, and the trials and tribulations of two young people who continue the pursuit of the age-old lifestyle of running an Alaskan trapline.
As Darrell and I watch this program, we often think about how our lives might have changed had we moved up to Alaska back when we were first married in 1987. As we see the lifestyle the Selden’s and other people featured in that series have carved out for themselves over the years, we wonder how we may have fared. Alaska has always called to the both of us, even before we met and became soul mates. As is so often the case with Fate, it turns out Darrell was up in Alaska for a holiday the same time I was, although of course like ships passing in the night our paths never crossed. Yet the north has always held a fascination for us both. I cannot count the number of times we have seriously thought about moving up there, wishing we had made the move many, many years ago. Wondering where we would be now and what we would be doing. Letting our minds dream about what might have been.
Yes, I am sure each and every one of us has had that thought at some point in the life, that “I wonder what if?” moment. As I sit here this morning, thinking about young Ashley and the amazing life she leads I am reminded of the life we lead here on our little farm, a life so many folks may in turn dream of living. The sky has finally brightened, the sun soon to peek over the horizon. The fire still crackles merrily away in the cookstove and as I glance off to my left out the dining room window, I see Lass and Heidi rising from their beds, Heidi glancing expectantly at the house. It is almost time to put my milker together and head down to relieve her of her morning’s offering of creamy milk. Darrell is stirring and the smell of his morning coffee on the brew fills the kitchen.
It is good to dream yet even better to know you are living the dream.
