I really am anxious for old man winter to get off my ass so that I can start planting. A huge stockpile of seeds has come my way, thanks to Ann, who is insistent that I continue to divulge in gourmet organic eats well out here on the farm. The plumbing has been getting to me. If it isn’t one thing, its another. A couple of pipes that burst above ground that required capping. Then the aerator lost all its water…then overflowed and decided it doesn’t wanna shut itself off. And now there’s water around the pump, which doesn’t look good. After two months of being here, suddenly everything decides to crap out on me at once. I’m having massive nicotine withdrawal, can’t tell you the last time I had a beer, and food supply is beginning to dwindle rapidly. Am I bitching too much? I should just suck it up, and contend with everything, after all, this is what I wanted, right? A place out in the country so that I could tend to the soil, grow my own food, be creative, write books, and knit like a madman. And so after two months I am pretty lucky that it’s currently 70 degrees at the tail end of January, and I don’t have to try and fix everything with a freeze snapping at me. I think I’ll feel better after a good night’s rest.