8.25.24
There is a definite crispness to the air this morning. A certain tang that suggests a seasonal change is on the horizon. Autumn is just around the corner and although it will officially start on September 21st – well on the 22nd this year at near quarter to six in the morning to be precise – something suggests the autumnal change will begin a tad early this year. Already we noticed the flocking together of birds, from meadowlarks to dove and even the Canadian geese on the river are starting to gather in large groups. Our visiting hummingbird population suddenly dwindled too. From a gang that kept us busy filling almost two of the quart sized feeders with sugar water each day, we now have a single female coming in for the occasional sip. Darrell’s corn is almost ripe and ready which means we will be on the lookout for those pesky redwing blackbirds that descend in swarms to feast on the golden goodness. It is not that we begrudge them filling their bellies before their big migration south, it is just we would like to feast on some corn too!
Last night I made a meatloaf with a concoction of our own home raised ground beef, venison harvested last year, onions from the garden and our first cobs of golden corn. Darrell has a grand knack for growing delicious corn. These first cobs were long, filled to the brim with sweet, plump, juicy kernels that burst with flavour when you bite into them. Guess what we will be having more of today along with our Sunday joint of roast pork and fresh picked beans! Yes, something tells us we might have an early autumn and subsequently an early winter this year. That is okay, we have had so much blistering hot weather that these cooler days are more than welcome. Of course, we know summer will not leave without throwing a few more scorchers our way, but we will take the cooler days with pleasure.
Change is around the corner. Change is inevitable. What I am learning, rather slowly and with a good bit of fuss at times, is that there are things in life you cannot battle. Instead, you must undertake to accept the situation and find gratitude and joy in the change that comes along. Case in point. My dear old milk cow Lass, whom we thought would never calve again as she has been barren for the past two years, at the fine age of 15 has given us a lovely calf who is now a month old. As a rule, by the time Lass is a month into her lactation, even with her calf still suckling away at her side all day long, she will fill my milker of a morning with a good four to five gallons of creamy milk. This year, however, is different. Despite keeping her on the exact same milking routine as I have done for the past 12 years, her morning offering varies from a mere gallon and a half to maybe almost three gallons if I am lucky! It is not that she is holding up her milk from me – milk cows can do that you know although thankfully I have never had that problem with my girls – no, her udder is just not producing like it did in the old days. She has changed.
At first, I was feeling frustrated after being so used to bringing a full milker back to the house now only to have such a wee bit sloshing around in the belly of the milker. She is getting her usual ration of grain, a tad more actually because of her age, along with lovely grass and clover hay plus an evening feeding of alfalfa. Both Heidi – who I am trying to dry up and just let her enjoy her pregnancy – and Lass are in great shape. So, food is not the issue. She is an older cow, and her milk production has changed.
Instead of dwelling on disappointing the folks who usually buy milk from me, bemoaning the fact I will not be able to make as much cheese this winter as usual, I realized I need to accept this change. Lass has been a phenomenal cow, is still a great cow! Each day she gives Darrell and I sweet, creamy milk to enjoy and that is a blessing. This coming week will see me start separating Lass from her calf overnight so I can take most of her morning’s milk before the calf fills its belly and is out beside mum for the rest of the day. Maybe Lass will grace the milk bucket with more than a couple of gallons or maybe she won’t. Maybe her days of giving well over five gallons at the morning milking are over. That is okay. Change happens. We can try to fight it or accept it, adjust, adapt and move onwards. One cannot squeeze more milk out of an udder that is empty!
Things happen for a reason. Sometimes that reason can seem awfully hard to fathom, challenge us mightily as to why it is happening, yes, and make us want to fight tooth and nail against it. Yet sometimes to win the war over change one must first learn to accept. Just as I must accept the fact that old Lass no longer produces the quantity of milk I have become so used to seeing over the years, I have to acknowledge that and be grateful for every drop she gives me.
Change is inevitable. The land around us changes whether we want it to or not as evidenced when wildfire ravages swaths of green trees and leaves them blackened, bare and dead. The seasons change whether we want them to or not. We grow older and our bodies change whether we want them to or not. We must have the fortitude and the grace to accept those changes, for life will continue marching on no matter what. Yes, change is unavoidable. Yet despite that, how much better it is to start out each day appreciating one’s life, knowing we have been blessed with yet another day to enjoy it and embrace it.
