Hay under the roof before the rain came
We mowed in the last week of June, four days straight. The rain was due on Sunday, and it came. The hay was already inside.
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About the seasons, about the cheese, about what grows and what ripens. Written in the evenings, once the herd is asleep.
We mowed in the last week of June, four days straight. The rain was due on Sunday, and it came. The hay was already inside.
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The second haymaking went into the barn at the end of August. Now the fields are resting, the earth is breathing. The herd comes back from the pasture earlier each day.
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Nine wheels from June milk went on sale today. They aged ninety-two days — longer than usual, because the summer was hot.
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Sometimes people come not for the cheese, but to see the homestead. The roof was remarked on by guests for the second time this week — this time by a couple from Bergen.
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Late births, unusual for this time of year. All healthy, all from one mother — grey-brown, with a red tag.
Read →New entries come irregularly — when there's something to write. No editorial calendar, no SEO. Only when something is worth setting down.