I do. I love it here, Honestly I love it here. I love the animals. I love the space. I love my barns and my life, I never lie in bed longer than I have to. I am up and showered and out the door with my wet hair (freezing solid in the cold) flying behind me. Feeding my noisy pigs and calm cows. Shoveling manure and laying fresh straw. Running the dogs through the long grass of the track and throwing grain to the chickens. Slobbing through the mud in my winter overalls and heavy jacket with my phone jammed into my jacket pocket and my hat jammed on my head. I love how the large birds are not afraid of me and I have to pick up peahens and turkeys and cats, my hands under their bellies and move them to one side, so I can get to the grain bins.
I love how Sheila calls her hullos and Tima nudges me on the leg. I love how Lady Astor reaches her head way, way out over the fence so I can scratch under her neck. And I love the thrill of taming a large animal and training a dog and watching the wildness in them live with me. Not be dominated by me, but agree to live with me.
I am a little wind myself you see.
I love the West Barn with its soft piles of straw and hay and the gentleness of the cows there and Manu who watches with his flip side lions eye. The secret places. The hidden corners. The quiet there. The promise. 
Farming. The awfulness of it and the sheer raw beauty of living in an environment entirely governed by the weather and the fickleness of flesh and endless change.
But oh, oh, I am so, So, SO looking forward to travelling again. I LOVE to travel. Half my heart is a gypsy, the other half a farmer. The girl and the woman. We both love to move. My gypsy soul waits for the winter, when I can hand the reins over and make for the hills. I grew up on a beach – right on the shore line – being still hurts sometimes.
I want to put out my good clothes, bind my curls into order, clean my face, brush on some mascara, clean and buff my fingernails, pull on tight jeans and high town boots with a shirt that has no holes or marks or old blood stains and a nice black cardi, grab my scarf and good coat, climb into a plane and FLY AWAY.
I do. I admit it.
How can one love both those things so completely. How can we love where we are and where we are going all at the same time?
I know my first trip away does not begin for seven days, but I am SO ready.
A couple more hurdles then I can get out my little travel bag and pack for the mountains of Alberta, Canada.
JOY. Life is full of it!
I hope you have a lovely day.
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
30 responses to “I do, I promise”
We love the Farmy lover because she is a carer for all animals and people, and we love the gypsy because she takes us with her.
My travelling days are more or less over, so the blogosphere does the travelling for me, for which I thank you all.
What beautiful and carefree prose from you hands and gypsy soul this morning. What you write about your farmy life is how I feel about my own little ranch, but of course here it is the woodlands and the wild things that steal my heart. This time of year I long to walk to the river where I might catch a glimpse of Daisy deer and her friends, or perhaps watch a coyote, or a hawk, but mostly sitting on a fallen tree awaiting whatever presents itself. Life can be difficult and full of struggle… but it is that very troublesome part of life that catapults us into more discovery about who we are. I love your wild nature… and your connection with all living things. I love that you inspire the wild in all of us – women who are made of grit and gumption, and even if we live very different lives, we understand the depth of it all. A happy day to you… the wind will be out of the south here today. Perhaps I can send a little warmth your way today! 😀
I/we understand wanting to get away. With all those souls depending on you, it’s nice to switch and just be yourself. Remove your dependable clothes and put on your carefree getup. Whoo hoo! Have fun.
I get that Fun to travel and great to come home. If anybody deserves a break it is you, and we get to see some more of Canada 🙂 Late to comment today because the heavens have opened at last = enjoying a loud and flashy thunderstorm, with a little hail but a decent amount of rain at last 🙂 Laura
This post exudes HAPPINESS! What a wonderful pleasure to read. Enjoy!
And we love you – you, wonderful multi-faceted woman!
Right before reading your post, I read another blogger’s post, where she used the exact same word, gypsy, to define herself and her love for travel.
Having different facets to your being is what makes a person interesting I think. Remember the fellow in Vicar of Dibley who always came late to parish council meetings because he’d had a prolapsed cow or a pig with diahrrea, and he could never talk of anything else? Besides, there seems to be some kind of relationship, perhaps a ying and yang sort of thing to farming and the sea. In the Navy (my former life), more than half of our sailors came from the prairies, those big grain farms and ranches in the middle of Canada. My Dad was raised on a large sheep farm in the mountains of Wales, and went to sea when he was 15, yet came back to the land when us kids were small. I met a fellow last year who came from a big station in Southland but was now owner/operator of a jet boat river tour company on the Haast river – but still had his farmy soul, because he had an acreage with sheep and cattle too. Even Joel Salatin spends half his year tootling around the world – and I think it informs his farming practices.
I feel the same about my little urban homestead with only a few chooks, cats and a dog, my vegetable and herb gardens and fruit trees……I love tending it all. These long summer evenings I’m still out as the light goes, cleaning up the chookpen, talking to the chooks and readying them for bed, the cats calling to me ( they have an outdoor run, not allowed to roam free) pulling a few weeds or planting more beans…..even in the rain. I can hear my neighbours’ tellies going in the background, and while each to his own, know I’d rather be out there shovelling chook poop and scooping cat litter than sat in front of a tv. Then I like to travel too, and visit far away places, this time last year I’d not long returned from a pilgrimage trekking the mountains of Tibet. I believe we need the contrasts, the desire to do something different, so we learn truly who were are and what we want. Keep flying wild:)
I think when we go travelling for work or exploration, we leave a tiny part of ourselves at each destination and never feel completely settled in one place after that. My days of air travel are now over. It will have to be feet on the ground from now on, but I can still legally drive and that gives me certain freedom. I will travel virtually with you and enjoy every moment. Safe and joyous travel adventures!
Boy, I can relate to that, Celi. I’m two people as well. I love the arid lands and mountains and being at home, but something tugs at me to ‘go have a look’ elsewhere too. Balance, that is the trick. xxx
Maggie says: ‘I feel you’! I SO echo that . . . Wish I could still fit into tight jeans but am looking forward to another Alberta photo of you on horseback . . . . travellin’ . . . and then you’ll come to us in Feb . . . fantabulous you beautiful gypsy 🙂 !
When the lure of salty air hits while enclosed in mountains or foothills, jump on a gypsy caravan, head due west to my island. You’ll think you’re in New Zealand.
I concur. I’m am also a dichotomy. I want to be everywhere and I want to never leave my farm.
I have done more than my fair share of traveling and I, too, love it. Granted, every year our airports seem to such more and more of the joy out of the experience but, even so, once aboard the plane, I’m in heaven. The plane as threshold of great times and adventures is what I find so appealing. I’ve yet to be disappointed.