Today is Easter Monday, and I am still smarting from being rejected by a recruiter on Good Friday for a job I wanted very much and had interviewed for with three people. The interview went fairly well, and I felt like I had hope, but was still trying to steel myself for not getting the offer all during the week it took them to call me back. "You interviewed very well," she said, "but we had four strong candidates and decided to make the offer to someone else." A year and a half of looking and only two interviews under my belt, and now the second rejection. Steeling myself for it didn't help.
Steve was taking a break while I took the call. He quickly came to me and pulled me into a hug. "If my unemployment runs out and I can't qualify for the third tier, can we go away for a long weekend?" I sobbed.
"Of course," he said gently, hugging me tighter.
God must want me working on my homestead, I've been reasoning to myself. He doesn't think it's time for a job yet. Still disappointed at having to continue to look for work, I transplanted some escarole and radicchio Treviso yesterday to a couple of the beds I cleaned up last week. With the days warming when it's not raining, and staying light out longer, it's truly time to get the garden going. I transplanted twenty-two Amish Paste tomato seedlings today into the paper tubes I made for them yesterday, and separated the pepper seedlings into six-packs, noting that I need to sow some more bell peppers, as three plants won't be enough. Deciding that I need to get the basil and cilantro started, I opted to sow those today as well. Then I took down my hatchet and sharpened it, and chopped another flake of straw into shorter pieces for my carbon barrel. My first early seed potatoes are chitting in an egg carton and will be ready to plant in another week or so. I needed to figure out how to cut straw for the compost pile and grow bags because the straw tends to bind up my shredder. Watching The Ten Commandments over the weekend, I got the idea to chop the straw instead. A machete might be lighter and easier to work with, but the hatchet did a fine job. I don't remember the straw pieces flying all over the place in the movie though.
The rain and clouds have moved on, and the sun and wind have taken their place. The bees are finally out now that the weather has turned better and I decide that I must get my chickens going and that they and my homestead are more important than having the house just so for when I have to host bunco in June. I decide to list all the needs and wants for the coop on a piece of paper and that I'll design something based on that and whatever I have in the garage and outdoors. There are large pieces of chicken wire and hardware cloth lying about in the backyard, and rolls of chicken wire and fencing under the bench, as well as pieces of plywood and lumber in the garage. I should try to get as much of a coop constructed as I can with the material I have, and only opt to buy hinges and latches and wheels, perhaps.
I come into the house and change back out of my grubbies and get started with mixing up pasta. Steve comes out and I show him the gigantic chicken egg that I'll use for the pasta because it's a monster and I thought it would be great for making pasta. "What do you do if you have more flour than egg?" he asks. "Well, I start with just a cup of flour and just mix the egg into the flour until it's the right consistency and then any flour that's left over I use to dust the board," I reply. Except the egg, which is huge, runs over the side of the mound of flour and I wind up having to scramble it all together and for the first time since starting to make my own pasta, I've mixed too much flour into the dough. Steve comes back in from taking out the trash and I mention to him thanks for asking, but for the first time since starting to make our pasta from scratch, I've mixed in too much flour. "It's not my fault," he says breezily and goes back outside again. I finish fixing the consistency and put the ball of dough under a bowl to rest for half an hour.
Typing this I look into the yard and see starlings, a Scrubb jay, several house finches, and a male robin all getting dinner out of the ground or fighting with each other on the fence. I'll get my dinner from the yard too, as I decided this morning that the Red Russian kale finally looks along enough to start harvesting a few leaves. I'll supplement them with a few leaves of the January King cabbage that I've left to bolt in the hope of getting seeds. Dinner will be our favorite pasta with kale, only this time I have some lovely Margenspeck instead of regular bacon for it.
I have so much work to do here that I decide God was right and I don't need an outside job just yet.