The Farm on Oak Creek
  • The Books

    Season of the Raven
    Book 1 of the Servant of the Crown series
    Season of the Fox
    Book 2 of the Servant of the Crown series
    Lost Innocents
    Book 3 of the Servant of the Crown series
    The Final Toll
    Book 4 of the Servant of the Crown series
    Caught Red-Handed
    Book 5 of my mystery series
    Winter's Heat
    My award-winning first novel
    Summer's Storm
    Book 2 of the Graistan series
    Spring's Fury
    Book 3 of the Graistan series
    Autumn's Flame Cover
    Book 4 of the Graistan series
    A Love for All Seasons
    Book 5 of the Graistan series

    Book 1 of the Lady series
    Lady in White
    Book 2 of the Lady series
    The Warrior's Wife
    Book 1 of the Warriors series
    The Warrior's Maiden
    Book 2 of the Warriors series
    The Warrior's Game
    Book 3 of the Warriors series
    Almost Perfect
    My only Regency Novel

    A Children of Graistan Novel
    Perfect Poison
    A Children of Graistan Novella
    An Impetuous Season, a Western novella
    An Impetuous Season, a Western novella

A “down” day

It’s 3 PM on Sunday and I’ve had a glorious day.  I’m still in my robe and jammies.  This is the first time in more than five years that I have refused to dress for the day.  (For the record, I have brushed both my teeth and my hair.)  I’m not ailing. In fact, I feel great…as always, and therein lies a problem. Once I started eating what I raise, I stopped getting sick.  Only then did I realize that I only take whole days off when I’m sick.

This last week was filled with slaughtering and processing meat.  By Saturday morning, I was toast. All I could do was stare at “Chapter One.”  That’s when I realized I needed a day in which I asked absolutely nothing of myself.

Lack of time off is a risk for folks who work for themselves, something I’ve done now for more than twenty years.  Self-employment requires being goal and task oriented, because getting things done means getting paid.  It’s easy to lose sight of how many hours you’ve worked, because not only does each job have a reward attached, it’s a challenge.  Oh, how I love a challenge.  The harder the task, the more I want to try it.

Having set the goal of doing nothing on Sunday, I proceeded to do all of Sunday’s chores on Saturday.  Then, as I went to bed, I made myself a solemn vow that I wasn’t getting dressed.  A sick day without being sick, as it were.

Since getting up at 4:56 AM this morning (I tried to sleep in, especially since I don’t have to be outside now until 6:20 when dawn arrives), I have achieved my goal.  The pigs, sheep, turkeys, and chickens have been fed. The cats have had their ration of cat food, which never satisfies them.  I keep pointing to Shy Girl, who is down in the orchard hunting gophers right now.  If the farm felines want more food, they can go get it for themselves. The dogs will be fed come 5:00 PM. Not that they’re eating much of what I feed them these days, not with a new boneyard to pick through. As for me, I’ve managed to eat leftovers for my first two meals.

Up until right now, it’s been a great day off.  I’ve made a few phone calls, played a bunch of solitaire (without winning a single game!), and watched the mystery series “Lewis” on my tablet. I always binge-watch mysteries just before I start writing a new mystery.

A few moments ago I realized I have nothing left in the fridge for dinner, so I once again went out in my nighttime attire and picked some arugula, thinking to use some of my waiting tomatoes to make a pasta dish. Needing inspiration I was on my way to my recipe book (Google) and it happened. Click. I hit the button for my website. I didn’t even catch myself as I did it nor realize that I was writing my blog post for the week until right this moment.

But it will be so nice to have tomorrow’s blog post done today!  That means I should be able to add at least four pages to Chapter One tomorrow as well as smoking those hams and the bacon.

I almost made twelve full hours of down time.  Guess I’m good for another five years.

© Denise Domning, 2023