Egg Deliveries from Local Farmer Bert Southwick | Here in New England
We’re back at the farmhouse by early afternoon. Hours of chores stretch ahead. Hens are laying the next week’s batch. Slouching against the wind, Bert will soon head off to the henhouse with his wire basket. In a few days he’ll slaughter one of his pigs; there’s a waiting list for the sausage. The winter would be a lot longer, he says, if he didn’t have so much to do. With so much snow it’s hard to see spring, but Bert does. As soon as the soil warms, he’ll plant Swiss chard, potatoes, cranberry beans, corn — enough vegetables to feed anyone along his route who asks.
And one Friday in early May he’ll hitch up Mischief, load the cart with eggs and some horse feed and a cheese sandwich for himself, and he’ll start down the ridge, swing left on Zion Hill Road, eggs jostling behind him: a man with work to do who has found that he needn’t travel more than a few miles to see all he’s ever wanted or needed.