Scaring myself with daydreams

Sometimes I scare myself with just how much I want to do what Susan over at Farmgirl Fare did: give up all this citified life and take up digging, growing, baking, and making on some far-flung patch of earth.

garden daydreaming

It's just past the middle of the winter and I'm home sick, wrapped in a blanket with a stuffy nose and sore throat, daydreaming about my 2012 garden.

Sleeping Clementine,
next to the first chicken coop wall;
September 2011.

Potential abounds:

• We have a huge yard with unrealized potential -- lots of space that, with the right nurturing, could yield health and happiness.
• 2012 is the year of chickens. The coop is still in pieces, waiting to be assembled, and we haven't decided exactly when or where we're going to get our chooks (as they say in the UK), nor whether we'll get eggs or chicks or pullets, but 2012 is THE YEAR of the CHICKEN.
• Our mature compost pile could use some tending, so that it lives up to its potential.
• The cottonwoods we planted when we bought this house nearly 6 years ago have become sturdy, healthy trees, and I no longer wonder if they'll put on leaves in the Spring.
• I'm starting to get more comfortable with my gardening knowledge after a few years gardening her in the clayey, sandy soil of the South Valley. I'm more familiar with the pests I'll battle, and how to battle them.
• My desire to homestead grows every day. It is my constant daydream.