Monday, July 14, 2008
Sixth Week Harvest
I have been entrusted with the blog this week. I am now a blogger. Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to introduce to you one of the internet's newest bloggers, Mr. Timothy Dutcher. However, you can call me Tim or even Timmy. As a new blogger, I feel I should tell you a little bit about myself. This can include such facts as my height (6'1") my zodiac sign (Aries), my sport (basketball), my preferred method of transportation (bicycle) or even my hometown (Middletown, CT). I am a middle child. Lately, however, I have been feeling more empathy with my older brother. You see, I arrived here at Broadturn Farm in early April and until late May had the place to myself, as well as the undivided attention of John, Stacy and the girls. Those were the glory days; heady times where John and I would each consume a dozen eggs in a day, Emma and I would have daily archery lessons and Stacy and I could gossip to our hearts content while preparing beds. The world revolved around me and my particular idiosyncrasies, of which there seem to be a steadily increasing number.
Then came the new baby.
Or three, really.
[I'm talking about the three other wonderful apprentices -- Arianna, Clare and Amanda -- in case you are confused.]
Suddenly, I had to maintain respectful silences while listening to others speak at the dinner table. I had to learn how to share tools. Emma had new playmates. I could no longer eat everything on the table the moment I sat down. The dozen egg days were over.
I'll admit, it was a bigger adjustment than I had expected. Could it really be that I was jealous of these three young upstarts? I mean, I'm a grown man, shouldn't I have already reached some developmental milestone or something? But then I began to notice some curious changes. Projects that would have taken John and I all afternoon were getting done in an hour. Things were really getting accomplished around here. We were being helped! And helped by three lovely folks who, once my initial resistance was down ("Put it back, Mom!") I learned were great to work and live with.
This isn't to say things have all been warm and fuzzy since I overcame my jealousy. Sometimes, while sitting eating meals and listening to everyone else talk, I start to get a little antsy. I feel my leg start twitching, and I just know that I need someone to pay attention to ME or I might explode. And that is when I turn to my number one go to gal:
The great thing about living with a two year old is that she is always willing to be entertained. Even (or particularly) when I'm at my most annoying, she is a captive audience. After a hard day out in the field, when the rest of the crew is drained and doesn't want to listen to me tell the same joke over and over or hear an endless stream of sound effects and silly voices, I always have Flora, who is forever willing to indulge me in my quest to be entertaining.
This week's harvest:
at 10:14 PM