5.21.22
Mother Nature sure has brought on Spring’s Blessings with a vengeance over the past week or so. The grass is lush and deep green, growing taller than it has for a few years thanks to the abundance of rain of late. Still somewhat capricious in nature however, she has seen fit to give us a few warm sunny days, teasing us into thinking it is safe to plant our garden only to throw in a good frost or two. Thankfully we have held off planting our corn, potatoes, beans and such, knowing from past experiences that it is better to wait another week before doing so. The tomatoes, Brussel sprouts and cabbage plants sit at the side of the house under a makeshift cold frame, waiting patiently to be set out in the newly tilled soil. Just a few more days and that will happen.
Spring is always a time for new life. Our little white-faced calves in the field bring us joy each time we see them frolicking about beside their mums, who are contentedly munching away on the abundant grass in their pasture. Lady, our black sow, finally gave birth to some very colourful piglets. All five are doing splendid! The only slight damper on this is that I have a pretty strict rule when it comes to pigs. A sow must wean a minimum of eight piglets – as in she must raise them successfully through their first several weeks of life until the youngsters are old enough to be separated from her. Last time Lady farrowed, she had seven babies but only five survived. This time around, she popped out six with one that was stillborn. It also took Lady an inordinate amount of time to breed back after her previous litter. So sometime in the not too distant future, Lady’s fate will be held in the balance… but for now, she is doing a dandy job with her small brood.
Lass is in retirement out in the big field with the beef cows. I was getting concerned about her as she dropped a lot of weight – due in no small part to teeth that are awfully worn down – but with the abundance of green grass she is looking her old self again. Her adopted calf from a few years ago, Willow, who is half dairy bred and half beef but whose Jersey influence shines through, is now a companion to Heidi in the milk cow paddock. A few weeks ago, our vet Colleen came out and A.I.’ed both girls to a lovely Guernsey bull. In another week I will send off a milk sample from each of them with the high hopes both girls are bred. I have never trained Willow to milk, but she has a lovely udder and a heifer calf from her and JC Penny – the Guernsey bull – would give us a smashing milk cow prospect. Of course, Heidi, being a full-blooded dairy cow, if she gives us a heifer, will definitely see that calf becoming a future milking girl on the Triple H Homestead! Fingers crossed!
I love this time of year. Each morning when I get my milker put together and head out the door on my way to the milk house, I take a moment to appreciate the new day. It is so peaceful with only the birds singing their morning chorus. The sunlight touches the new leaves on the trees and morning dew adds a glittering sparkle to everything. Have you noticed how Spring has a smell all of its own? That damp, earthy aroma that stirs the gardener in your soul. The other morning it was a chilly 28 degrees when I headed out to milk, but what a sparkling morning it was! After such a gloomy winter, this bursting of new life all around us complete with sunny mornings is nothing short of splendid! It renews one’s heart and soul.
These past few months have been awfully challenging ones for me. The winter, although not awfully severe, seemed long and cold and wet. Now those of us who live in this part of the country try not to complain about prolonged periods of snow and rain as moisture is a precious commodity out our way, but this winter appeared to drag on forever. Compounding things was of course my fall and subsequent fractured arm. An active person by nature, this forced rest and recuperation after my surgery was hard to come to terms with. Add into the mix a heart that frequently throws numerous FLB’s – Funny Little Beats – during the day which can leave me feeling totally without energy, and it was no wonder I began to slip from a “glass half full” person to a “glass half empty” demeanor!
It was awfully hard to admit I had slipped into a hole and was wondering if I could ever climb my way out. I let the doldrums grab me and apathy set in. For a long while, I lost my interest in writing, my ambition went out the window. Always an optimist, I think this turn to pessimism hit me hard. Where was the Old Rose? Where had she gone? Would she return and when exactly? Was this just a phase? After all, as one of my good friends occasionally reminds me, “You are 61 years old now Rose!” … as if that should make a difference! Where was my mantra of “There must be a reason this has happened?” Where was my acceptance?
The other morning, as I lay in bed for a few minutes in that contemplative state between waking and being fully awake, I gave myself a good talking to. As the sun started to peek over the horizon and lighting the room with a golden glow, heralding a new day, I realized what an amazing life I have. Turning towards my dearest Darrell, whose face was relaxed and peaceful in sleep, I reflected on all that was good in my world. As I lay there, I could feel my glass once again filling up. I did not have to struggle and strain to climb out of this hole, a hole I had made, I just had to let myself rest for a bit and feel at peace. As soon as I came to terms with that, the way out was easy, and I knew it.
Life can be so very challenging. Through all the adversities that have come my way over the years I have held tightly to the belief that life is what you make it. Never one to admit that life could get me down, I have come to see that each and every one of us must sometimes face the challenges of falling into a hole that seems too deep to clamber out from. Yet we must not give up. There will be a hand reaching out to help you, you just have to be brave enough to grab it. I truly feel, all through my life, my mother has watched over me. She faced adversity too and yet continued on. Maybe it was her hand that reached down to me, her sense of peace that stole over me and encouraged me to be thankful for every new day I have on this earth.
As I lay there beside my Darrell, watching as the sunlight warmed his face and he began to awaken, I felt at peace. A page had turned and was awaiting new words to be written upon it. Rose was back.