My plan for Sunday was to decorate the barn for the Christmas party next week. What really happened was stall mucking with Heather.  Vern drove in the barn with a load of shavings and as I choked on the carbon monoxide, I thought again about the turn my life has taken.  What actually went through my mind was, Why am I here?

I guess as reluctant as I was to take on this impossible project, I do enjoy being at the barn.  I enjoyed it when we were boarders ourselves 14 years ago.  I liked the happy horses,  I missed them.  I liked watching my daughter ride, still do.

Two subdivisions have gone in our woodsy neighbourhood in the last few years and the developers were circling this iconic piece of property.  It would have been the worse thing in the world to see this farm, with the beautiful rock be sold and chopped up.  It had been a family farm for 70 years.years, a place I always admired when I drove by.

I gave Vern and Heather a hard time for about a year, saying that it was not my plan and I am not involved.  Slowly I discovered I enjoyed the work and enjoyed the farm as a whole.  Well, maybe not the bringing in the hay, but even that has its moments.  In the evening particularly, on the wagon ride out to the field, when its a wee bit cooler and there is a glorious  sunset over the hay field.  Feels like its all worth it in that moment.