Social day today, on Easter. Grandma’s and aunts and friends visiting the homestead and making Roby smile. It’s nice having people by like we did today, and it’s nice going like we did yesterday. 

I don’t think I had left the property in three days before Abby and I went out for a day-date of thai food and gift shopping. It was nice but tiring. I enjoy my time here, I won’t say alone, because I seldom am. I’ve got the dogs, the chickens, the trees, my internet friends, and Roby and Abby. 

I’m not sure I’ve ever felt less lonely in my life. The better part of my day is accounted for. More than accounted for, accounted for and then some. There’s always more to do and never enough time. I’m coming to terms with the endlessness of the project, attempting to enjoy that fact. It’s better than the opposite. 

My third grade teacher, Mister Piccard, would explain to us that we ought to treasure the days of boredom common to a 9 year old because they would be few and far between once we were grown. 

He was not wrong. 

But I think he might have been unnecesarily sour about the whole thing.