Sunday, January 2, 2011

Day 2


I didn't intend for a cattle theme to emerge. This baby is special though. He was a twin and, a lot of the time, a mother cow is unable to care for two calves. So, us farmers are called on the be a surrogate. We have raised many bottle babies over the years. Every one has a story and I remember them all. It is hard to nurture a creature and not become somewhat attached to them, at least it is for me. We raised two of them last year and when it finally came time to turn them out with the herd, they always stayed together and were constantly causing mischief. People would knock on our door and say "you've got a couple of calves out", and we would explain that they were just mavericks and pretty much did what they wanted, even going as far as eating the plants on Granna's porch.

I've always known that farming was in my DNA. God simply gave me a love of the country and a love of animals and then was gracious enough to accommodate me. Regretfully, this often gets taken for granted. I've always been a seeker and one to really want to know what my "special purpose" is. While I feel completely sure that I am exactly where God wants me, sometimes I feel a little bit restless and wonder what exactly He means for me to do here.

On New Years Eve, we shot off some fireworks in the back yard which scared the goats and caused them to run out of the pen and way out into the woods. I have a bell on the lead doe which helps tremendously in keeping track of where they are. After we ceased the festivities and the noise, Rodney and I decided it would be best if we went and found the goats and brought them back instead of counting on them coming back on their own. We put on our coats and hats, grabbed a flash light and headed out into the darkness to find them. I could hear the bell in the distance which helped us determine which way to go. They hadn't gone too terribly far into the woods and seemed happy to see us when we showed up. I grabbed the collar of the lead goat (Long Tall Sally), Rodney headed up the rear and we herded them home. It was on the walk back, in the dark, goat-lead in one hand, Emma's leash in the other, that I realized how happy I was. The satisfaction of settling in a herd of goats for the night, the excitement of traversing the woods in the dark, the camaraderie of working as a team with my husband, my ever-present Emma at my side, even the cold clean air reminded me of the great blessing of being a farmer. It IS my special purpose.

My intention is to live in it with more awareness, to live life more consciously, to enjoy the little things. Like right now, "Crazy Train" is booming from the living room while Taylor and Kyle play rock band together. One day, I know I'll miss the noise, so I absorb the moment, bob my head to the music and thank God for my life.


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