I'm up early every morning, always up before the sun rises above the trees. I don't particularly need to do this, but it's sort of a ritual at this point. It gives me a sense of comfort, knowing that I'm in control of my life. But with that comes a little arrogance, but I don't mind. I live alone, out in the country, a long distance from the nearest village, and many kilometers away from the city.
I always get ready a certain way. Put on clothes, always pants first, shirts come second, never the other way around. I then make my bed. Fluff the pillows, and tuck the covers, then I go clean my teeth, put on a straw hat, and go fix myself breakfast. I usually make a jam sandwich. Two slices of bread and homemade strawberry jam. I then clean up and go out to work.
I don't like to leave my farm. It's cozy here, unlike in the noisy city. Too many people. Not even the local library is all that quiet. I like the city, don't get me wrong, it's a lot of fun at the pubs, and just overall a good time if you go at the right times, but all the drama stems from there, so I'm not too fond of visiting.
Despite my not wanting to visit, sometimes I have to. I sell crops and grain to select vendors in the city. It's quite profitable, especially during the summer, when everyone goes shopping for food, rather than going out in the sun and finding food themselves.
I know a lot of people in the city. I actually know a blacksmith. He's not the brightest but he's good at what he does. I take my hunting knife over to his workshop every so often so I can get it sharpened.
The winter is approaching quickly, faster than usual. They say it's gonna be brutal. I don't usually have a good time during the winter anyway. All of my crops die, at least the once that I haven't already harvested, and it's hard to find animals for food. I usually find deer for food, but they seem to just disappear during the winter. It's very hard to find them once it arrives. That's why I don't sell all my crop to the vendors. I got to feed myself too!
Life is hard out here in the country, especially for a farmer like me. Foxes, wolves, and even bears tend to roam around these parts. I got sheep, cows, and a couple horses. I don't have any chickens though. I used to, but none of the coups were strong enough, and I can't afford any premium coups. Foxes and wolves could break in too easily. At least the other animals are tough enough to fight back, not that the chickens wouldn't try, I've seen them, but of course they aren't that effective when it comes to fighting back.
Usually around noon I am out working in the field. Picking tomatoes, harvesting wheat, you name it. I wish I could hire some helpers, but none of em' are willing to come all the way out here. They tend to find it creepy how I live so far from anyone. I don't pay em' any mind though. They can think what they want, because at the end of they day, they are still buying my food.
Speaking of food, I make it all myself. Bread, flour, tomatoes, cabbage. It's all made here. There are farmers that are a little more local to the city, who distribute food more efficiently. They actually hire workers though, I don't. They have people do the work for them so they can sell food they obtained through their labor, and only get a small portion of the money. However I'm pretty sure most of the people working for them are slaves, so they might not even be paid at all. There is a lot of fuss around slavery right now in the city. Many are fighting against it. Like I said, the city is home to a lot of drama.
As it gets later, I tend to pack all my stuff back in a little tool shack I have behind my house. It's small, but if I place everything in the right spot, it all fits perfectly. If one tool is off, nothing will fit. Sometimes I outline where certain tools go by carving lines into the floor, or outlining the shape of the tool on the wall.
It's the same thing for everything in my house as well. Everything has a place. Dishes go into certain cupboards, silverware go into a certain drawer. Blankets that aren't being used are to be folded up and put into a certain basket. The pillows on my bed are even placed a specific way. It's all about the minute details that make all the difference in the world.
I cook food in a pot over my fireplace. I make soups a lot of the time. Tomato, venison, potatoes. Of course you also need some salt, not a lot, but just a pinch should be enough. Any more than that would ruin the taste. Salt is also very expensive, so a pinch is usually all you can afford anyway. It makes for a very good supper when cooked just right.
I also get ready for bed a very specific way, almost the same way I get ready. I take off my straw hat and hang it. The shirt gets taken off first, then pants, never the other way around. I fold it up and lay it into a basket, and they are to be cleaned in the morning, washed and laid out to dry on a line. I get into bed and sleep.
I've repeated this process for 10 years. I think I got this from my dad. He also enforced a strict schedule on himself. He always said it was good to have habits. He'd do much of the same stuff I'd do now. He didn't have much of the same luxury as me, but he worked hard to obtain something like what I have now. A big house, a big field filled to the brim with crops. He never lived to see to it, but I'm sure he'd be proud of me.