Facebook has been beating me over the head as of late. Beating me over the head with reminders of what my life had generally been like around this time in years past. It's an interesting feature, reminding you of what you posted a year ago, two years ago, eight years ago. Because I am not 'too good' for social media, there are plenty of posts and pictures that remind me that for the last four years, my life in January and February was awash with lambing and farm work. I am not at the moment doing farm work and have feelings about this. Feelings of lack of productivity, feelings of a loss of fitness and activity I had come to really love and appreciate, etc. But the farm I most recently worked on was not a particularly good fit for me. Or, more bluntly, the people who owned the farm and I weren't necessarily the best fits for one another. So I left on reasonably good terms (though when I asked about the W-2 forms I'll need to do my taxes this year the response was 100% no response at all...so perhaps the good terms I think we left on are not as good). In any case, I didn't leave the farm until early summer, so there are plenty of things to show you from the winter and spring. This is predominantly winter, though Blogger has kindly chosen to upload these not totally in chronological order, so, well, yeah.
Each morning and some evenings (depending where we were in the winter era) I would load up a few bales of hay to bring out to the cattle and/or sheep. There was a stream to cross, and a bridge to help me do so, but the way the snow and ice and mud all interacted, there were many days where the simple act of rolling across the bridge was one that led me to be quite aware of my mortality. This is a photo that doesn't fully demonstrate how much standing water we were going through. Those are calf-high boots, and you'll see that the water is almost to their lips...but that's me standing in a slightly more shallow part of the great puddle. Perhaps the slightly more impressive visual is the watermark on the tractor wheel.