our version of hiding under the covers

It was a bit hard to get started today. The news was turned on before breakfast and it felt impossible to peel ourselves away as the reports continued to roll in and a certain number ticked ever higher. The skies felt gloomy and my heart felt heavy. But farm life must go on and we collectively went out to split, stack, and sack the piles of wood for the following winter. And in the end, I am happy that we did. We of course came back to the subject looming over the day from time to time, but there was plenty of other discussion, plenty of other distraction. The birds chirped, Sally came and went as she pleased, and in the end we walked away to prepare lunch having completed nine and a half sacks, ready to be tarped and dried for another year. It's still so hard to imagine something so horrible having occurred but a few hours away, but today I have found so much comfort in the sort of work and continuity that a farm like this can provide. We'll soon gather around the table to feast on moose hash for lunch and life will continue moving forward.
Because it has to.