Hate to admit, but this isolation thing is working out not too badly.
The Farm Manager is coming out of grief mode and is starting to cook again!
That can only be a happy thing. Today for breakfast I had steel-cut oat porridge with blueberries and maple syrup.
I'm not even sure what "steel-cut" means. I guess they have to cut the oats with something. What are the other oats cut with that aren't cut with steel?
Anyway, "steel-cut" seems to imply you've got superior oats. I don't know; I just eat the stuff.
Then for lunch I had a feast of left-overs from the Good Friday/ Seder dinner we had last night. Brussel sprouts with bacon (the bacon being from the non-seder side) and baby roasted potatoes.
Spent a few hours in the fresh air this afternoon. Got the chainsaw back from Billy-Bob's Chainsaw Repair in town, and it's running like a charm.
Took down a clump of dead elms out by the road. Things were proceeding to plan till I got to the last elm. Cut the notch in the north side of the trunk to ensure she'd fall to the north, away from the road. Made the back cut, and whoopsie, all of a sudden my saw is stuck and that forty footer is threatening to fall on the road!
No matter how many dead elms you've dropped, there's always gonna be one to come along and play a trick on you. This particular trick wouldn't have been particularly funny. Not that there's a lot of traffic on our road, and even less in these days of pestilence, but just before I finally coaxed Mr. Elm Tree to fall in the right direction, some hapless goober came tooling along on a Ultra-Glide, who had no idea that the odds of him passing by my house and living to tell the tale were 50/50 at that exact moment.
But here we are. Goober made it home safely, or at least past my house safely, and I lived to enjoy a fabulous feed of Easter Pie that we got from the farm market on the next concession.
That's how we're rockin' the lock-down at Falling Downs.
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