Lorenz said, in an email last week, that I've hardly emerged from my "barn troll perch" in the past few weeks. This of course had my head reeling, with images of trolls in birdcages, but I didn't elaborate on trolls' marked preference for caves. I don't think it's wise encourage the master of mixed metaphors to get too far into the cave metaphor. My head might explode.
Ok, ok, far too obscure in my references today. What I mean to say is, happy new year! Greenfields is a veritable beehive of activity: when it gets cold, there is some vibration inside, but mostly, not so much movement. There has been some delivering of sunchokes to Toronto (Lorenz, today), some tossing of firewood into the basement and some chainsaw operation (Lorenz) of course the markets (mostly Tarrah, though Lorenz has been putting in more frequent appearances), carrot washing (Tarrah) and the not particularly photogenic "doing the books" part of the operation. The most exciting farm-related event in recent history has been the sparks from the Turnip's block heater plug's electrical fire. Primarily, though, everyone has been focused on other parts of their lives. Eventually, we'll emerge from our physical and metaphorical caves, and we'll see what happens then.