Patience is the Virtue

Hungry customers are awaiting their delivery of eggs.  The chickens, meanwhile, are waiting for me to clear the snow so they have some place to play.  The electric fence is waiting for me to reset some posts so that the gate support doesn't bow from the tension.  The barn is waiting for me to mop up the water from the bathroom leak the plumber repaired yesterday.  The empty suitcase is waiting to be packed for my trip that begins tomorrow.  Class assignments are languishing, waiting for my review and response.  And I am waiting for deliveries. 

In and of itself that's nothing new.  Lori says I am always waiting for something to arrive, and even my neighbor laughs at how frequently the UPS truck pulls into our driveway.  Fine.  Mock me.  I'm an easy target.

It does, I recognize, beg the "how much is enough" question.  I am not exempt from the "wretched excess" contagion and I freely admit to already having too much.  I confessionally acknowledge that  arguments in favor of any alleged hierarchies of gluttony are necessarily suspect, and anyone who defends his own appetites is begging for condemnation. 

That said, however, this time
I'm not waiting for trivialities.  Important stuff is on the way.  The 24 bags of compost, for example should arrive any day from Wisconsin -- a foretaste of garden preparation this spring (in fact, it arrived late afternoon).  Already there is work to do with it as we plan to try soil blocking this year as an alternative to those little plastic seeding trays -- using a special device to create 2" X 2" blocks of compost/potting mix into which the seeds will be sown and nurtured in the greenhouse and then transplanted directly into the ground when the growing season begins.  Already I have the seeds.  The blocks will be the next step.  And then I am simply waiting for the right week to get it all started, which will lead to waiting for the seeds to sprout...and then fruit...and then ripen.

And then, of course, there is the new coop.  Yes, we are getting a new chicken coop.  Another one.  One like the other one, only slightly smaller.  Murray from Missouri, the gentleman who builds these fine "hen hoops", is bringing it up today...or tomorrow...or...  We'll see.  Even then we will have to wait to see when, given all this snow, we can drag it back to the chicken yard. 

And then we can start waiting for the new chickens.  Yes, more chickens.  A few more.  So many heritage breeds, so little coop space. 

And then we can start waiting for the eggs...

...which hungry customers will start waiting to be delivered.

And so it goes.