Getting Up

 

I've only got a few minutes this morning. Though I've been up since six, now is the first moment I've had to myself. Technically that's not true. The day started with reading in bed for half an hour before my alarm went off. I'm reading Murakami's Kafka on the Shore. I'd forgotten how engrossing his style is, how he crafts such strange and compelling worlds. It's a weird magical surrealism. As the alarm went off, signaling time to feed the cat its wet food, I imagined how I would then trudge down in the fresh snow with a bucket of feed in one hand and warm water in the other to bestow onto the chickens below. The land here is mostly sloped, so the chickens are downstream of where we are up in the wooden house. Following the path downward, behind an old dilapidated house made of crumbling brick and plaster, takes me to the second set of chickens. These ones are older. More sturdy. They seldom lay eggs, but they generally seem unfazed by the cold. On the upper level the young chickens sneeze and huddle together, hesitant to leave the meager warmth of their wooden coop. 

As I made my way back up I refilled the bucket of grains for the old chickens and collected the leftover snow-covered firewood from the wheelbarrow to bring inside to dry before starting the morning fire. As I entered I saw Asia was up and had already got the fire started. Now I realize I omitted one piece of the story. After feeding the cat and brushing my teeth I took out the bread I'd left to rise over night and set the oven to 200 degrees to warm. At around 8pm yesterday I'd taken the ancient grain flour made from plants here on the farm, and added them to a large bowl with cold water, some salt and a jar of sourdough starter. While I type this the smell of baking bread perfumes the room. I've got twenty-nine minutes left on the timer.

In a moment I'll prepare breakfast. Fresh farm eggs — gifts from the chickens. Shortly after that I'll march myself upstairs and setup the computer and microphone to record an episode of my podcast with a woman who works in the technology sector on Decentralized Identities. Even though I spent my entire adult career working in tech, this topic still remains largely opaque to me. On a fundamental level it seems the goal is to provide everyday people with more autonomy and control over their digital data. It's a way to take power away from the bloated bureaucracies of centralized governments or authorities. How this works, and why, I don't particularly understand.

The next item on the agenda just announced its arrival with a gaseous warning cry: it's time to shit. 

I bid you good day.