There seems to be little reason to leave this “hill” lately.  Truly we have just what we need right around us.  Sometimes I can’t help but think this is how it should be.  Milk for butter, yogurt and guzzling is provided on one side, and with that sensibly enough, beef too; And vegetables plentiful enough to store for the entire year on the other side of us.  It is an event each Wednesday when we pick up the CSA, which by the way makes my vegetable garden pale in comparison (oh how much I have to learn!), loading up the wagon, strapping on Miles’ helmet, leashing up the crazy twelve pound mutt and making our way to the red barn down the way.  Since our field has been hayed very recently we can make the trek down to the farm through our pasture, looping back around to check the mail afterwards and when needed getting our milk too.  This way we get to observe the vegetables growing and farmers tending and the cows grazing that inspire us so.  These farmers truly are some of the hardest workers I have seen.  Yesterday we received beets, kale, red and green lettuce heads, early, small, summer squash and petite, adorable, zucchini.  Proof that their work is not in vain, as just up the hill from them our squash plants haven’t even flowered yet.  The price is right too, I must add.  And while I realize the cost of purchasing a CSA share does vary from one area to the next, from my experience it is financially (and sustainably and conveniently and deliciously) the way to go.  It isn’t hard to see if the farmers have any seconds they would be willing to give at a discounted price for your canning needs either.  This has been a pleasant past time for us, and I believe if this third baby in our life doesn’t completely consume us (as in a stick a fork in me, I’m done kind of way), I can see this year being quite the same.

  While surely driving too much is something you must be conscious of when living in a rural area, there are so many ways we can live in this world in a cohesive way.  Whether you reside in a city or out here in the sticks there are always options.  It is hard not to feel the tug of obligation.