Um. I really don’t consider it work, but other people might. From dawn to dusk I tend goats, sheep, chickens, an incorrigable burro named Betsy, various orchards and some sugar cane with my side-kick, a border collie named Sam. I milk the goats and make cheese, and collect and trade with the eggs in town. I usually break for a couple of hours after lunch, a kind of siesta, then go back out around three, back for good around dark. 12 hours a day? I’m really not what you would call working the whole time. It’s seven days a week, unless I get called away. Then I have a brother-sister team from the village watch over the place.
I look in on my boat and do repairs weekly while on trips to town. I keep her Portsmouth; ready to go at any time. I captain out now and then for hard currency, munny in me parse. I just got back from a week-long trip on an old trawler. We towed a seventy-foot wooden hull from Barbados to St. Lucia. I was First Mate on that one, in charge of the hull. It got a liitle hairy, but the pay was good. The last 72 hours on that job involved very little sleep, constant supervision due to a storm. Normally, most watches are about 12 hours, but I love the work, so, I dunno. The pay is good.