in awe of surveyors and pioneers

Last year Will and Mary and I took off into the woods with no compass, no hatchet, no water and managed to get lost for over 3 hours. Soon afterwards all 7 of us tried to follow the property line and couldn't even make it to the southeast corner, but luckily managed to find our way back (Tim is a much better woodsman than I am).

This afternoon the big kids and I gave it another go since we are leaving Maine this week. Every so often we came across a tree spray painted with an orange blaze, but for the most part we just flailed around. Luckily Will brought his newly sharpened hatchet and he blazed a trail so we could follow it back to civilization. It is embarrassing that I can't manage to follow a rectangle in the woods (though it is a pretty big one) especially after reading about the early pioneers who hacked their way west or escaped from Indian captivity.

One day I will be able to walk all the way around our 23 acre woodlot, but not anytime soon. Winter is the best time to make paths, the leaves are all down so you can see farther. I have such plans for our farm: a sweet Jersey cow and woolly sheep, plump Buff Orpington chickens, a pond to splash in, hiking trails for spending quiet time alone, a big patch of jeweled raspberries, and an orchard full of crisp apples and pears. In the meantime we will return to Washington, DC to resume our "other life" complete with piano lessons, Scouts, American Heritage Girls, field trips, and the daily grind of living with a mile of the Beltway. 21 months before we can start all the projects I long to undertake, but who's counting?