It's All Relative

I awoke this morning with the feeling that I was late.  It was five forty-five, admittedly well past my usual wake-up time, but I don't punch a time clock and my only deadlines (except on trash day) are self-imposed.  I don't wear a watch unless I'm leaving the property, and I tell time by the shadows on the wall.  If, while milking, the patch of sunlight creeps down to my right foot, it's ten o'clock...at this time of year, that is.  That's only late if you happen to be the last goat milked.  Some days can seem endless, and years fly by in the blink of an eye.

Distance is another relative factor.  Down in the valley, walking across the street to the mailbox was a hike.  Up here, I probably log a mile a day or more between trips to the goat barn, doing chores, etc.  The world used to seem so big.  My own world consists of ten acres.  There's "my world," and "out there."  "Out there" isn't as far away as it used to be.  A high school classmate just emailed me (instant communication) that she is following the blog during her stay in Colombia.  The blog site has added a new stats tab that tells me from where readers are clicking in.  How amazing to discover that people in Russia, Japan, Canada, and Latvia (Latvia!!), and all over the United States have read/are reading about my little farm!  It seems my neighborhood has expanded.  I'd love it if more of my neighbors from "out there" would leave comments...it would be such fun to compare notes on our relative lifestyles.