TEACH OUR CHILDREN WELL

December 1957 School Christmas Program My Kindergarten Class

Over the past four days my heart has been heavy.  The farm is quiet enough that it gives me plenty of time for self reflection and meditation, especially when there are tragedies around us.  The grief and pain of all the victims, their families and friends is so powerful; it can be felt by all of us all over the world.  The love and loss is sending such strong energy waves it is almost impossible for it not to affect you in some way.  I am typically very opinionated and quick to share my thoughts but this weekend, it has been hard to put my emotions into words.  I have to admit when I would read postings blaming God for punishing these children for the schools not having prayer etc… I felt moved to address those… but to write about this event as a whole has been difficult for me.  I decided that I needed to go deep, meditate, pray and listen for the words I should use to write about this horrifying event.  As I often do, I open my heart, place my fingers on the keyboard and give my fingers to my Highest Power to lead me. 

There are no laws that can change what happened in the elementary school in Connecticut eleven days before Christmas; mid-December when children’s hearts are full of Elf on the Shelf, Santa Claus and their Christmas list or perhaps about their role in the Christmas program.   No laws are going to prevent villains from having guns or cure mental illness.  No law will protect us from ourselves.  Schools, churches, synagogues or temples cannot prevent bad things from happening to innocent people.  From the beginning of recorded time there have been good and evil / positive or negative events in history.  These events happened to Christians and non Christians, to believers and non believers, to good people and bad people, to young people and old people.  Life is a cycle that we are all in, it is full of lessons and some of these lessons we learn at the expense of innocent people.  Sometimes we learn to appreciate and use our life in a more abundant and virtuous way because of events that happened to innocent, good and loving people.  No Law will change this cycle.  It is our job to learn the lessons.

I am not for or against the NRA; I can count on one hand the number of times I have shot a gun.  I don’t enjoy hunting but love many people who do and eat from the bounty of their shoots.  I do believe that gun owners need to take full responsibility for their equipment and have all guns secured behind locked doors and where no child, mentally challenged person or thief can gain access.  We need to realize that even if we allow our children to learn to shoot a gun, until they are an adult they don’t need to have access to a gun without adult supervision. I only speak of the gun issue because I want to address it and move past guns.  These shootings are about more than what stricter gun laws can prevent. 

Taking a Stroll in my Sacred Rock Garden

I have heard one too many people express in different “blame games” how God caused or allowed this atrocity because our nation and our schools are pushing him out.  I am sorry but that sounds like a hateful and vengeful God.  This is not the God that lives in my heart and has held my hand through the brightest and darkest hours of my life since my earliest memory as a toddler in our rock garden.  I know a loving God, full of love and light.  He has led me through paths that I felt were impassable.  I didn’t always understand the route and couldn’t understand the bleak moments, but the sunrises have been amazing.  I don’t recall that he ever promised to make me a perfect person, or that life would be one big happy fiesta; but with the light and unconditional love that I feel when I take the time to be aware of his constant presence, I know that whatever happens, I will never be alone.  Not even in death will I be alone… God will be in my heart, at my side, holding my hand and shining a bright light for me to see when there is nothing but darkness and I no longer have the energy in my body to carry on. No law, no words, no rule, no person can steal that from me. It mine; I don’t have to ask for him to be with me or to hold my hand, he is always here.

Even if a law can alter the future and prevent evil acts such as we have seen committed by shooters; few of us can do anything today to make that happen.  What can we do today???? Parents wake up and take your job of raising your children seriously.  Stop expecting others to instill values, morals and spirituality into your children and do it yourself.  Why would you entrust other people to teach these life lessons that your children will carry with them their entire life?  You need to teach the lessons that they need for their darkest hours when you can’t be with them or protect them.  Why would you want to leave your children defenseless or alone? This is your job, not their teachers.  What they learn in church and school should compliment what you have already instilled in them.  Keep your mind and heart open so if they learn something different than what you believe that they can fearlessly come to you and have a discussion knowing that you will not reject them.

Make time for conversations to happen with your children. Take the time to talk to your children at every opportunity regardless of the topic or how long or short of a conversation.

 Don’t fill every moment of every day of your children’s lives with activities that take them away from their home. Give them time to be part of the family. Allow them down time to have these conversations and to see how you manage the everyday stresses in your life. If you do manage stress by yelling, screaming, blaming or by violence, then you need to address your actions and if needed get professional help.  Become a better role person and model for your family, friends and work associates. Learning how to manage stress using positive and healthy techniques can add years to your children’s and your own life. Remember actions speak louder than words.  Make your actions be positive and count.

Have family meals.  It doesn’t matter what you serve or where you gather to eat.  It can be at the dining room table or on the floor in the family room the important thing is to do it without outside interference like the television, phones, iPods  games or whatever is the form your family uses to avoid communicating with real people.  This also means you need to put down, turn off or ignore your phone, your messages, your Internet, your newspaper, and your friends.  Not only does it allow you to focus on your family it tells your children that they are more important than a work out or shopping date with your friends or an issue an issue at your work.  I think it is wonderful when we share our day with our young people but it really should be their time to talk about their day.  Giving an example of a similar problem in your day and how you brought it to positive resolution in a friendly conversation will teach them a lot more about problem solving than if you tried to fix their problems or tell them what they should do at every turn in the road.  If Jesus felt he could teach people more with parables than laws, maybe we should take his lead.

Take Charge of your television remote turn off the television and have “no electronics” times so you that will give you and your children the time and space to think, imagine and for conversations. 

Be aware of what your children watch on television.  Stop allowing your children to be exposed to violence that is found on television, in movies or on video games.   We have become so anesthetized to violence that is no longer shocking or bizarre.  Children build their realities by taking from what they see.  Do you want it to be violence and killing?

Teach your children to respect animals, people and themselves.  Teach them that life has value, whether is is a dog's life or that of a mean classmate - all people deserve to be respected for being part of our earth family.  This doesn't mean they have to be friends or even like them, but they have to respect the space that they take up on this earth and leave the judgments to God.  Teach them to respect their toys, their rooms, the gifts they receive, their teachers, our leaders, their family and the waitress that brings them their chicken bites. Teach them that all life is valuable even if we don't understand or see its worth. Now treat your children with the same respect so they will believe it.

If you have a mentally or physically challenged child or adult family member or have challenges, don’t shove it in the closet, seek help.  If you have a friend or family member that is dealing with a mental problem, be their nonjudgmental sounding board and do your best to help them get assistance.  Don’t believe that if you ignore a problem it will go away.  Don’t believe if it isn’t your family it isn’t your problem, it affects all of us.  Help be the movement that changes our society into a group of people that help those in need.  It brings to mind of a much used biblical quote from Matthew 25:40 “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” I believe that also means what you didn’t do for the least of these you also don’t do for me…. The way our mentally ill are cared for is OUR problem.In sharing these words I don’t pretend to have all the answers or to be the perfect parent or role model. I do know that something has changed. I, like most of my generation was raised in a house that had guns, but we knew not to touch them and that they were deadly. There were no mass shootings. I watched television and saw movies but they didn’t have the foul language nor were the stained with blatant violence. People died, we just didn’t have to see it done in such a violent manner. Even the good guys weren’t proud of killing. There wasn’t 24 hour news reporting every detail. TV didn’t have the broad opportunity to turn the killers into a celebrity. We need to think about these things and think about what the generations before us did right. 
I know all of us fall short of being the perfect parent or role model my family was no different, however, my family did more right things for me and my siblings than wrong things. We always knew that we had a safe place to go to have a conversation that would not be judged or restricted. Sunday dinner started right after church. Everyone gathered in the kitchen and dining area until the food was on the table and a lot of talking transpired. As we sat at the table between the passing the potatoes and the gravy… a lot of talking took place. After the meal was finished and the only thing that was left of desert was the smile on our face, e talking continued. I listened to all the adults (and in my house there was no shortage of them) discuss religion, world issues, the Big War, the Cold War, abortion in the 1940’s, the Lindbergh kidnapping, drunk driving, how to make the best pie crust, the morning sermon and how relevant it was to our lives, stories of their mothers, uncles and grandparents; no topic was banned but mean gossip was never suitable for conversation. The great benefit of these conversations was that they allowed us as young people to be part of the discussion. We were allowed to ask questions, make comments and say things that now as an adult I know were immature and ridiculous. Never the less, we were allowed to think and express ourselves in a safe, loving environment. Even when our opinions were opposed it was done with love and respect. We weren't made to feel stupid or bad for our opinions; in fact we walked away knowing that the family respected us for thinking and communicating. Evening meals during the week functioned in much the same. It was motivation to have my homework completed before dinner so I could be part of the after dinner chat. The only thing that was a conversation stopper was the need to work on homework… but I now recognize that when the conversation was a better lesson than the homework, the conversation was allowed to continue and the homework was put on the back burner. Regardless of whether I played an active or passive role in these conversations or simply was an observer I learned more from them than all my education combined. I learned how to treat people, different ways to approach problems, how to turn the other cheek, how to step up and defend my honor, how to help someone in need, how to ask for help and most importantly I learned that I was a child of God, that I would never be alone and that I could pray mowing the grass, standing on my head, playing basket ball or while riding my horse. Although I was in church every time the door was opened I was never taught that I had to go to church or any place to find God. From conversations at our dinner table I knew God was with my three uncles in France during WWI, I knew that God was with my grandmother as she lay on her death bed in our home and I knew and was consoled that God was with my brother while he was extricated from a burning car. I learned that no matter how short I fell from being perfect that God was always with me.

Let’s not waste our precious time trying to get someone else to “FIX” things. Let’s take time to evaluate our lives to see what WE CAN DO right now to make a change. Our children are our most precious commodity; they are all of our responsibilities. It is all of our jobs to protect all children. Give your children the tools they need when they are in their darkest hour or their brightest moment – It’s Our Job and we can do it without a law.

I am grateful to be living on the farm which allows me to have the peace to contemplate, meditate and to share my words.

I Love the Farm

&

I Love You Randy

On The Farm: Intentions VS Plans and Expectations

This year I have learned many lessons about the farm but more importantly lessons about me, nature and the grand universe we call home. Since my earliest recollection as I child I would visualize and usually with great success as long as I kept the visualization focused on my outcomes and not try to manipulate the lives of others with my dreams and manifestation attempts. If I had a project I would see it in my mind’s eye and then move forward the best I could. The same could be said in my work with the children’s choirs that I directed over the years. I saw the cantatas in my mind before the first part had been assigned. .I always viewed this as developing a plan with limited expectations. The end result was always great, not always exactly as I planned or expected but close enough that it made a believer out of me to use this in most aspects of my life. It never occurred to me that if I had allowed these EXPECTATIONS it to become part of who I was, my ego, my happiness or how I viewed my successes, it could have been harmful even disastrous; making me a very unhappy and unfulfilled individual.

Early on in my relationship with Randy we discussed “expectations” and how he had none; he also claimed to “not be much of a planner.” For the queen of multi-tasking this was a very difficult thing for me to wrap my head around. If I didn't have a plan, how could I get three things done at one time? I had to have a plan! We have had many discussions about plans and expectations. Randy feels that having a plan leads to expectations and expectations lead to disappointments, thus it is all a big waste of time, especially on the farm. I didn’t get it! I agreed about not having expectations but not having a plan… wow that was a tough one for this dedicated member of the “planning committee” to easily accept. How could we get the crops in or raise cows, or get the crops out, move machinery or raise a garden, take a trip, buy groceries if we didn’t have a plan????

What I have come to realize is Randy does believe in setting an INTENTION and having a VISION but and having a plan linked with an expectation is a very different design and not something he wants to be a part.

FARMING & PLANS; here are a few things that I have learned about farms, plans and expectations; I will start with cows.
Our plan was to have February and March calves. One beautiful evening the bull became bored being isolated in the far paddock from his girl cow friends broke curfew and went on an unsupervised date. He didn’t conform to “The Plan.” One brisk December morning Randy was checking cows and low and behold, there was a beautiful little calf, who I named “Lucky” based on his parents meeting. “Lucky” was not part of “The Plan” but a welcomed addition to the herd and his mother was a wonderful mother. He made the other cows eager to have a calf of their own and they all doted over the new member of the family. It all worked out splendidly, just as though it was part of “The Plan.”

“Lucky” taught us a lesson and come spring Mr. Bull came to live with us at the farm where the house is located. Randy decided miles were better than paddocks to keep Mr. Bull from going on unsupervised visits. There was a lonely cow that had not had a baby so she got to come to the farm with Mr. Bull. As we sat on the patio they would watch us as we pondered our next projects and we could watch them. This was the time of year that I was busy planning the flower gardens. Randy was working on the vegetable garden. He knew what needed to be done and what we enjoyed eating and that was all he needed to get it done… no big plan, no diagram or garden grid layout… work and common sense seemed be enough. He gave me a small tiller for my birthday and I was ready to chew up some dirt and plant some flowers. It was still early to put them in the ground but I had a PLAN. I could see my gardens in my mind’s eye. I was in the process of building a stone wall that would retain my herb garden. The plan was to make it out of stones from the Gentryville Farm but I was learning not to have expectations of what it should look like or it’s dimensions. I was working with nature, nothing was the same, no rock was perfect and I was determined to appreciate and enjoy the outcome as the project came together. I felt at one point that I understood Randy’s “No Expectation” philosophy. It was a slow process, the gathering of stones and the building of the wall but each step of progress made me very happy and the end result looked very little like what I had “PLANNED, ” it was better.

One evening after a full day at the farm and working in the yard, we sat down to have dinner. It was close to dusk (that is when we usually gave up and sat down for our evening meal.) We had taken only a few bites when Randy looked up and asked, “Is the bull on our side of the fence or his?” Given the fact that there was a large field of tall hay growing just outside the reach of Mr. Bulls designated area, my immediate guess was that he was on our side of the fence. Sure enough, Mr. Bull was grazing on the tall grass and clover like he was the King of the Farm. We were especially nervous because neighboring farmer had a lovely herd of heifers grazing right across the road from Mr. Bull. With his prior record of unsupervised dates it caused us some anxiety. Not only were the prettier than his pasture mate, but they had all been cycled so they could be impregnated at the same time… right then…. OH My… Mr. Bull needed to eat up because there was a party that was just about to start and he wanted to be the first to arrive.
Randy got Mr. Bull back in his area by tempting him with some feed. While the bull was enjoying his new course, Randy was busy trying to repair the fence that Mr. Bull had reduced to pile of smashed wire. Since this was not Randy’s first rodeo he was great at thinking on his feet, no PLAN needed. . Randy left me to stand guard as he brought the truck with the tools to where we were working. Upon his return with the tools the Bull had devoured his course of corn and was again interested in the new hole that he had created in the fence. Now two problems were at hand; keeping the bull from escaping over the top of us and to rebuild the fence. Randy knew immediately that we had to get the fence electrified to retain the bull until further repairs could be made. He volunteered to watch Mr. Bull and I was to get the fiberglass poles for the new fence. That was a much better job for me than standing between 50 cute girl cows and a large bull. The poles were resting nearby on the other side of the tall grass. I took off immediately to retrieve the poles worried that Mr. Bull would challenge Randy’s authority. As I was walking briskly through the tall grass I realized how dark it was getting and how I couldn’t see what was a head of me. I started thinking about all the varmints, who I was confident, that invisibly live in the tall grass. By the time I made it to the poles I decided to get an armful because I did not want to make the journey again in the dark, in the tall grass, where I was sure there were snakes living. Yes, Snakes. Just a day or two prior, I had thrown a small snake out of my flower garden and into the tall grass. As I turned to take the poles back to Randy I realized my open toed shoes were an open invitation for a snake to enter and crawl through my shoe and up my leg… I had no prior evidence to substantiate this belief. I have always had the notion that snakes are sneaky and what would be the sneakiest thing a snake could do??? I believed it was to find me, in the dark, with an armful of poles, in open toed sandals and to crawl up my leg. My mind was racing... if I feel the snake, do I kick of my shoe and scream or do I keep on running? Do I just run and hope for the best or do I completely lose it, disrobe kick off shoes and scream bloody murder??? Who would think in a span of no more than 50 feet that so many thoughts could race through one’s mind… well they can.

While these scenarios were running through my mind I was walking as faster and faster; as fast as I could go with my arms full and my heart racing. With every step it became darker and darker. I was so distracted by what plan of action I should use in the event of an attack that I completely forgot about what our dogs had been busy doing in the field. They apparently had been commissioned by the People's Republic of China to dig an extension tunnel to the Orient Express and the depot was clearly going to be in our back door. If you haven’t figured it out… the dogs had dug many holes but this particular hole, hidden by the tall grasses, was exceptionally deep. Sometimes all you could see was the tip of the tail of one of our large dogs as they worked away, dedicated to their task at hand. This hole was already so deep you needed your passport to enter. With every step I hurried faster. I was going to move so swiftly that any lurking sneaky snake wouldn’t have time to sabotage my mission. I was within a few feet of Randy when my right leg disappeared into the newly dug tunnel and because I was walking at a rapid pace, momentum kept my body moving but my leg had stopped and popped as pain raced from the bottom of my foot to the top of my head in seconds. As I remember I kept hold of the poles. Randy inquired of my status, with a hesitant, “you are alright, right???” and the answer was a resolved, “no, I think I broke my ankle.” I don’t think he truly believed my assessment but knew that I was unmistakably injured as he helped me out of the hole. I hobbled to the truck and assured him that he needed to finish the task at hand to secure the bull and in the meantime I would do another assessment of my condition. While I sat with my leg propped I recognized a few things, like, something was broken, I was in a lot of pain and it was going to take more than my daily Aleve to remedy this predicament

The good news is Randy got the fence repaired, the bull did not go on a midnight rendezvous and I got to see my own doctor in the emergency room the next morning to tell me that I had broken my leg. By the way…. This was NOT in “The Plan.”

Of course when I decided to mow the yard with my hard boot cast while he was at the other farm. That wasn’t a very good “Plan.” It was nearly dark; I had just a patch of grass yet to be mowed. I wanted to get the yard all tidy. I was mowing close to large round bales of hay. Something told me to make one more loop and when I did I became aware that a bale was on fire and quickly jumping to the next bale. I couldn’t run so I had to jump on the mower and race back to get a water hose. One wasn’t long enough so I had to go back for number two. I did my best to fight it myself. It was hot and fast but I was holding it at bay. After putting out the fire that was rapidly traveling to the adjacent field of crops, I knew I had better call someone for help and drove the mower to the front door. I had trouble getting the phone to dial so I auto-dialed the last caller, which was my daughter Amy on the other side of the state. I told her to call Randy and tell him to come home as quickly as he could. From that call help quickly arrived in the form of his daughter Mandi and family. At this point I had the fire contained to a couple of bales and with help put out the burning bales and saved the majority. By the way…. This was NOT part of “The Plan.”
Unknown to Randy I was planning a surprise birthday party for him. The yard work was part of “The Plan” of the party and four grandchildren were expected for a summer visit in just a few weeks and we had straw to bale and I was needed as part of that team. There was so much to do and I was so limited and slowed down by my injury

Although nothing was in “The Plan,” I am happy to report that I was able to drive the truck that pulled the bale lifter with one foot and we got all the straw baled in time to watch the planter sow the beans in the same field just as a gentle rain began to fall.
The summer visit with the grandchildren was amazing and full of something fun everyday they were here. Not only did we have fun but they were great help. They assisted both Randy and me in the gardens and me with my rock projects.
The surprise party with the help of many went off without a hitch and Randy was definitely surprised. He did admit that when he returned home from the errand that he was sent on and saw all the extra cars that he was sure that I had fallen off, in or over something and these were people to help in the emergency. With my track record as a new farmer’s wife, you can easily see why he had that idea.
So now I think I get it; making intentions is good and productive, for the most part no plan is needed, and there is absolutely no need for expectations. Having expectations requires a lot of rules and judgments in regards to what can, should or will happen and how it should transpire; all of which are very limiting to our growth and to our experiences. Nature has a way of making sure that what needs to get accomplished makes the list and the outcomes are really not ours to dictate. We could frustrate ourselves and have expectations, then be disappointed that it didn’t go as we had planned. In the end we are usually surprised by a superior result that is bigger and or better than what we could have expected or predicted; this seems to be a better use of our energy.

Randy and the farm have taught me such an important life lesson this past year about EXPECTATIONS. I do the best to live each day as full as possible with as many intentions as I can, as few PLANS as possible (being a recovering plan maker I admit that I didn't go Cold Turkey) and no EXPECTATIONS. Then I set back and enjoy all the marvelous experiences and daily riches that the universe continuously hands us. It maybe my imagination but since I have made an effort to not form EXPECTATIONS I have more time to enjoy reality. I thank Randy for all that he has taught me and I look forward what is next.

The one thing I know for sure today is; I could have never PLANNED this or had as great of EXPECTATIONS as the love and life I have found with Randy on the farm.

I Love the Farm

&

I Love You Randy

Is Today the Day the World Ends?

It has been some time since I have posted on my blog, but with harvest and calving behind us expect more more posting from this Farmer's Wife.  I missed sharing with you and with love and gratitude I share my thoughts and memories and I am grateful for those of you who take the time to read this blog.

During this Thanksgiving season so many people are posting their gratitude list of the day on FaceBook.  I have not posted the things I am grateful for this year.   I have a practice of getting up each morning and whether it is while I am moving about with morning routines or sitting quietly in repose I thank my creator for things that I am grateful for and give them time and space in my heart.  After such a peaceful meditation it seems redundant to post them on FaceBook, so I just move on with my day holding that love in my heart.  Even through difficult times (and boy have I had them) I have been so blessed with life changing lessons. In the end it has left me with such peace and contentment that I am not sorry for the road that I had to travel… there were lessons for me to learn about myself.  Our journey is about our lessons, how we can become a more loving and enlightened spirit; it’s really not what we can teach others.  If someone learns a lesson along the way from a detour that we take then that is a bonus.

We owe our children and grandchildren a much more positive outlook on our future.  When I read the rants and all the chatter about the end of the world, that;feels a lot more like a threat than it does enlightenment; it takes me back to when I was a young mother in 1976.  I had a one year old and one on the way and I was attending a prayer group of young mothers and watching TV evangelist, all who were predicting the impending end of the world.  I wondered why I was bring children into this world that was about to end.  I was so upset I wondered why I bothered to make my bed or clean the house if any moment it wouldn’t be evaporating.
My family came for a visit and daddy quickly picked up on the state of my mind.  To this day I can still hear his words and feel the peace that came over me as he sat with me on the front steps of our house.  I share the same thing with my children when they raise concerns about the end of times.

Daddy said since the beginning of time there have been stories of the end of the world in whatever fashion people choose to believe, Christians and non-Christians both have their versions of how and when it will happen.  He continued since he had been born (1912)he had experienced times when fear rose because of global and or political situations that illuminated people’s fearspredictions would run rampant.  He said this is natural and will happen over and over but that I had nothing to fear.He said, “You have been raised to trust our God and know he is in control. We can read that not even Jesus knew the day or the hour and no man will, so stop worrying and enjoy your life and live it as a Christian and in an  exemplar fashion.  If the end comes today or tomorrow, we will all be together and you have nothing to fear - but don’t live your life in worry and stress. Live your life full of happiness, love and face each day with an adventurous attitude, enjoying each day that the Lord. Has  given to you and teach your children to do the same.”  With a hug and a smile peace came over me that has lasted 36 years so far and will carry me until I am with him again.

When my children go through these sorts of feelings and experiences I share the same story.  I hope when their children come to them with these concerns that they share their grandpappy’s story philosophy.  Not only does it bring comfort but it continues to pass the love that daddy showed me as a young struggling mother trying to do the right thing for my children on and on making his love eternal.
If these are the last days, so be it.  Regardless, each of us is a day closer to it being our last day so we need to enjoy each moment, spread and share the love that Christ came to earth to teach us how.  Keep the flame going.   Live your life in a way you will not be embarrassed to discuss at the feet of our creator and lead by example.  Teach your children to do the same; don’t expect the government, the church or their school to do it for you.  People want to live a life of love and peace so they will figure out that you have something special and they will want to learn how to draw that into their life.  Rants, rage and negative energy will push those who need the love the most away from you.  It is impossible to walk the path without tripping and picking yourself up and getting back on the right path again.  When these time come that is when having a spiritual partner that lends a hand with you fall off the path or helps by walking along beside you holding your hand to help keep you along the way is so very important.  I am blessed to have Randy.  He is more than a soul mate, he is my spiritual partner.  His love is unconditional; he is here to celebrate staying on a spiritual path, to be beside me as we grow spiritually and to lend a hand when he needs to pull me back up on the track.  I pray I do the same for him.
If we bring light, peace, love, compassion and contentment into our life there is no room for darkness and negativity or as some see it “the devil” (nor do I make room for those things).  Negativity only brings unhappiness, stress, disease that pushes others away… it doesn’t bring anything constructive. (I don’t believe that there is anything constructive in th term “constructive criticism” J).

We have all been through a long year of political debates and elections.  I believe that most people want the same thing: to be loved, peace, to be able to provide for those they love and a safe place for their family to live and grow.  Because of these basic beliefs of the majority of people I believe that there is a powerful band of prayer that surrounds our globe… not JUST the United States of America, but the entire world.  I believe the majority of the petitions, in one form or another, are for the greatest good of humanity and for the Lords will to be done.  I don’t question my creator, I KNOW that answered prayers come in all forms.  I know not all healings come in the form of a cure.  But what I do know is the answers that I have received in the past make sense later down the road and so with this knowledge I trust the answers that I get – even if I don’t like or understand them at the time.
My wish is for my friends and my enemies to join me in loving ourselves right where we are, that we do our best to be positive about our future for our sake, for the sake of our children and our grandchildren.  Let us live each day as it is our last and enjoy, treasure and celebrate even the smallest of events.  Prepare our house for we are all are going to pass away… Let us leave our loved ones with the knowledge that we lived our best life, we shared as much joy and love as was possible and when they need comfort just the memory of our love will bless their day and each day until we are all together again.

I am grateful for each of you because you all make me think about who I am and who I strive to become.  God Bless us all; whether we meet again at the grocery store, on FaceBook, at a reunion, or in eternity… Until we meet again!

 I Love the Farm and I Love You Randy!

MY BOSS IS AN ANIMAL

    Our day usually begins before the sun comes up.  If we don’t beat the sunrise, Randy thinks we have wasted the morning.  Most of the time this arrangement works out for me; I can only stay in bed so long knowing that there is coffee waiting downstairs.  My children gave us this phenomenal coffee maker that is programmable, grinds and brews automatically (if only it brought a cup upstairs it would be perfect!)  Once I hear the grinder, I start getting eager to get out of bed to enjoy a hot cup of coffee; far superior to that of any alarm clock I have owned.  I will admit, sometimes I hear the grinder and with a big smile on my face I roll over and drift off until I hear the rumbling of logs, clanking of dog dishes and the thumping of dog tails.  Once the dogs are up, we are all up.  They have needs just like the rest of the family.  Besides the obvious, they must get to their morning inspection of the property.  You can never be too safe and they like to report to us if there are any uninvited cats, raccoons or deer that might be lingering around in the timber or orchard.  One thing we can be sure of and is that no guest will go unannounced on their watch.  The neighbors feeding their cows and horses or simply driving down the road are more intrusive than to the dogs liking.  We have several conversations with the dogs in regards to property lines, ownership and neighborly manners; they continue to appear apathetic to our conversations and not only guard our property but the property across the road.  After much observation, I have decided that if it is within eye shot of the dog, it is automatically theirs.

    Eating and drinking fresh, cold water is a high priority for the dogs.  It is more important than anything that could seem to be a priority to us; they can make your life miserable until that job is accomplished, preferably accompanied by a smile, some tender words and a nice pat on the head;  not unlike  some other bosses I have had.   If we consider having a cup of coffee before we tend to their needs; they can stare you down like no boss I have ever had.  Not a word, just a look of disgust and repugnance; you can almost hear them say, “You know what you should be doing right now and I can’t believe I am watching you sit here and drink your coffee when you are on my clock.”  You know what they are thinking by “the look.”  It is much easier to complete our job of feeding the dogs before we consider taking a breakfast break for ourselves.  I will say that they usually show their appreciation with a big doggy smile and the wag of their tails.  But once we are out of sight, they not only forget about us, but they think we are dead.  Think of their shock when they see us again.

    Of course there is Crispy the cat, who like the dogs, truly believes he is the boss of us.  We are here to see that all his needs are met and to run interference for him with the dogs.  On nice days he enjoys a little outside time and it is our job to see that he can get to the door free of any intrusion from the dogs.  He has a friend who calls to him from outside and they enjoy playing together.  Of course the black outdoor cat is younger and friskier and can climb tall buildings, post, trees without hesitation.  He taunts our boss, Crispy, to come along and play.  He does with great exuberance and fur flying, forgetting his mature years; then it is Randy’s job to get the ladder and get him down without embarrassing the boss in him.  Crispy has a meow that can penetrate through the wind and door to call us to attention.  Randy like any good employee drops whatever he is doing and liberates him from wherever he has found himself entrapped.  Crispy likes to stand on the steps and meow orders at us, which precludes anything we are doing at the time.  He is a hand on hip kind of boss… standing on the highest point, looking down on his workers, as he meows out orders.  We try never to disappoint him but he rarely shows any appreciation. Occasionally he will offer up the opportunity to give him a rub or a scratch but more often he gives us looks of disgust that he is not our only boss and that we sought other jobs.

    Once the dogs and cat are in order, the horses and cows are next.  When we arrive at the gate the first order of business is to account for the horses.  Depending on their mood they are sometimes waiting for us at the gate, tapping their hoofs and then fixating their eyes on the feed trough and then back on us; as though we were bad employees who had arrived late for work.  Before we can explain that we had been working and that we had other bosses to keep happy, off they go in a pout, kicking up their heels and trotting off to give us the cold shoulder treatment.  They think we want to be best friends with them, but they should know by now, we are just there to do our job, if they don’t want to be our friends, we are not going to beg them, besides we have our own friends and most of them have only two legs and rarely feed from our trough, well not on a regular basis.  Other times they remain hidden in the trees trying to act like it is  because we were late and now they are too busy to take time out of their busy schedule to acknowledge our presence; as if to say, “we are taking care of all this ourselves, there is of plenty grass and hedge balls right here for us to eat, you can go back home, you are not needed here.”  Of course being the good, compliant employees that we strive to be, we abhor days that they act like we are not important players on the farm team.  Sometimes we have to give them an oh so gentle reminder who it is that purchases  the “special oats” and snacks that they enjoy as appetizers and allows them to change up in their main entree.  How quickly they forget that it was their employee that picked out the nail that was embedded in the hoof and the one that applied antibiotics to it so it would heal quickly. Who was that person who sprayed them down so those bothersome flies would stop sucking their blood?   They are nothing above thankless.  They forget the way their employee brought a bucket of feed with molasses to help make the medicine go down more easily.  I guess when the day ends, the hoof is healed and they are winning races between the other horses, they forget about their lowly human employee who helped to make it all possible.  They forget that they didn’t do it all by themselves.   Oh well, that is why we are the employee, to do all those things that the boss doesn’t want  or can’t do themselves and so they can tend to their other, more important task  like grazing, pooping, strolling to the pond and taking on occasional roll in the grass.  Every once in a while when there is no one around to do the job, they kick a bucket or two around and try to get to fill them with oats, otherwise they typically leave the work to their human employees.

    Moving right down the list of chores, off we go to see the board of directors, if truth be told, they are the ones that actually pay our salaries.  Oddly enough they are also the ones that always seem to be the happiest to see us.  I am of course speaking of the cows and the bull.  Randy is their favorite employee, they know that I am still in training and not sure that I am worthy of their admiration and trust.  They know that Randy goes out of his way to bring them a bag of tasty morsels that they share between them and he always makes sure they have a beverage for their herd’s gathering.  The board knows that Randy has been known to go over and above his job description on several occasions and he treats their children as one of his own by occasionally taking them home for an overnight by a warm fire when a member of the board was under the weather and unable to tend to its responsibilities.  They seem to appreciate the fact that he, unconditionally looks out for the entire board of directors, rarely showing favorites; however; like any boss the board is not going to show their entire hand.  During the morning meeting they like to push and shove a bit to show Randy who the boss is of the group.  Some are more seasoned bosses than others and they openly acknowledge that he is an important and valued employee; some will go so far as to give him a kiss on the cheek to show their appreciation.  It is of course a relationship like few bosses have with their employees.  Randy has assisted in the birth of many of their children.  In fact, with this group of bosses, Randy has put his hands  and arms in places that most of us have only threatened to put our feet with some of our bosses; understandably, you would have to trust this kind of employee. 

    At the end of the day when all is said and done, all the bosses go to bed happy, with full stomachs and most have forgotten who it was that helped them have such a great day.  (Out of sight out of mind.)  It is fortunate that we don’t work for accolades and that a good day’s work and a feeling of accomplishment is an amazing compensation.  To go home at the end of the day and know that you have done the best possible job and that someone’s life is better because of your contribution is what makes a person’s character grow and their spirit soar.  Just like yesterday and all the days prior; tomorrow the sun will rise, the coffee will brew and we will be greeted by our bosses, tails wagging, lips meowing, hooves clattering and the board of directors will come charging over the hill to show their appreciation.

     Sorry if you were expecting a “tell all” account of some of my former bosses.   I could tell some pretty good stories given some of the colorful characters I have had as bosses and managers, this isn't it. I hope you have enjoyed getting to know my new bosses and now you know better why

Boss Horse Haylee, conducting quality control studies with her employees

I Love the Farm

And

I Love You Randy

SWIMMING WITH FROGS

    The picture of the Frog that I used on my last blog made me start thinking about last summer, frogs, ponds and heat.  When we were on the farm yesterday, Randy starting making a verbal list of all the things he needed to do once the temperature returns to 50 degrees.  With the weather being so frigid the thoughts of summer and 50 degrees are comforting.  Knowing that there will be no need to chop ice, feed hay, rescue new calves from snow filled gullies or repair ice coated objects makes me feel like a child anticipating summer vacation.  These thoughts of summer reminded me of one very hot day last summer. With the weather being bitterly cold I thought this would be a marvelous time to share a summer story.  Hopefully you will be able to get a short reprieve from this frosty weather as I attempt to transport you to that summer day.

During the time when we spent five days in St. Louis and traveled five hours to the farm for a day and a half.  We did this every week for nearly nine months.  We had to pack a lot into our day while at the farm trying to catch up on chores.  There was really never enough time so we always worked as long and hard as we could before returning to the city.  This particular day was one of the hottest days of the summer.  Randy had decided that the weeds had taken over his electric fences and the thistles were out of control and something had to be done before we returned to the city.  We usually stuck together but this day we decided to accomplish our list Randy would cut weeds along the fence rows and I would get on the 4-wheeler and spray the ominous thistle and miscellaneous menacing weeds.  My mantra was “Clover is Good – Thistles are Bad.”  After a well prepared briefing on the operation of the 4-wheeler, with the sprayer tank on the vehicle and the wand in my hand I was off to war with the displaced plants that unwisely rooted themselves in the wrong “dog gone” pasture.  

    It was an excessively hot day.  I wore just enough clothes to not embarrass myself , the cows or horses and relished in every little breeze that crossed my back or face.  The fun part of the job was over in a couple of hours.  Randy’s face was bright red and the fence rows were less than half done.  We took a break and enjoyed a picnic lunch under the trees hoping to cool off a bit.  Since there was no breeze there was nothing cool about the picnic except it was under trees that shaded it from the sun beating directly on our heads.  It was good to re-hydrate and refuel so we could complete our appointed jobs.  I had to remind myself what I was spraying wasn't just water and to avoid physical contact but the mist that occasionally drifted my way, in an odd way, brought relief.  As an aside, to date, I have no thistles growing on my body so it must work.

    The heat never gave up and neither did we.  As the afternoon was creeping by Randy and I found ourselves on a log, sipping water when he announced. “WE NEED A SWIM.”  I am looking around and see no pool but a nice refreshing pond.  I have taken many a dip in ponds and lakes, that wasn’t a big deal.  It had  been several years ago, but I was game.  After overcoming the lack of a swim suit matter, Randy assured me that the cows wouldn’t tell and nothing but a crow was in eye shot of the pond.  We were both hot, at this point, who cared.  He had his clothes off and headed to the pond while I was still wrapping my head around what I was about to do.  I was a bit more methodical about the process than Randy.  I laid my clothes a safe distance from the water so they  could dry out from the perspiration and yet not fall into the pond.  I put my sandals a bit closer so I would have shoes to walk to my clothes.  I took a deep breath and off I went. Randy continued to stand in the water with an inviting hand extended to assist entry into the refreshing pool of water.  I know you must have visions of me, adoringly, with an ear to ear smile on my face, running toward Randy’s extended hand and into the water looking like Bo Derek, only without the corn rows of course.  Well, the picture was more like an Abbott and Costello routine, “Slowly I turned, step by step, inch by inch.”  With another deep breath and a lot of positive self talk, I entered the pond.  As I began the entrance I remember saying, “Ahhh, this isn’t too bad, except, I am sinking.”  The bottom of the pond is not sand and there is no sandy beach; it is mud, deep mud, and slimy…very, very slimy mud. Walking was not easy because the mud was oozing up between my toes and I was sinking faster than I could walk. During this process Randy and I were having a long overdue and mistimed conversation about who lives in this particular pond.  He mentioned turtles... snapping turtles, frogs and perhaps a snake or two…Randy assured me that the creatures were more afraid of us than we were of them.  My eyes were busy trying to assess our surroundings and be on the lookout for anything that remotely resembled a snake or a turtle.  Frogs didn’t bother me but I didn’t want to be surprised by a snake nor did I want my toes nibbled on by a turtle.  Seeing where as we were skinny dipping, I wanted to be informed about anything that was swimming about my body. What Randy didn’t realize is I am the girl who, when she was young, sat hours in an “out house” because there was a spider above the door.  I was sure that it was watching me, just waiting for the moment that I walked under him so he could jump down and attack me.  Granted, I am no longer paranoid about spiders but what an unfortunate time to discover that I haven’t worked through my mistrust of reptiles.  As I was taking another deep breath to go deeper into the water and closer to Randy, while continuing to sink into the silt and mud, suddenly there was a squiggly, swirling object rushing under my foot.  I believe Randy would testify that Superman has NOTHING on me!  In a single bound I turned and leaped out of the pond making a sound that has never come from my body and impossible to replicate. Once on dry land I looked back and there was Randy calmly standing in the pond laughing hysterically saying something like “if only I had a video of that.” 

    Once my heart rate stabilized and my brain was once again oxygenated, I came to my senses and realized that it was most likely a tadpole that had darted beneath my feet.  I am fairly certain that Randy thought the swim was over.  There was no way that I was going to let a little tadpole get the best of me or stop me from enjoying this adventure with Randy.  I took a very deep breath, reminded myself that on a couple of occasions I actually paid for mud baths in Ojo Caliente, New Mexico and loved it.  Much to Randy’s astonishment,  I gathered my courage and my oxygen supply and successfully headed back to the pond, repeating to myself  “I have paid for mud baths and I loved them” over and over until I once again reached Randy.

    I will be honest and say that I didn’t do any actual swimming  and Randy does remember me being slightly clingy;  but I did return and we did stay in the water long enough to cool off and Randy was able to take a few strokes before we  strolled back, hand in hand, to the log where our clothes were secured, laughing endlessly about our relaxing dip in the frog pond. 

    This chapter of our lives has given us endless joy as we have shared and relived the moment that I went flying from the pool of water.  As I write this on a cold January night it makes me eager to feel the heat of the summer, working together, side by side, sharing picnics and going skinny dipping.  Am I afraid?  No not at all, I have a plan!  The next time I become frightened I will not leap out of the pond, I will leap into Randy’s arms, or on his back or perhaps sit on his head, as we sink quietly into the mud, together.

    Now you know more of why

I LOVE THE FARM

&

I LOVE YOU RANDY

©

DO YOU HEAR THAT?

    
 When I first moved from a more rural suburban area to the city, noise was welcomed and novel.  I had been widowed and lived away from neighbors for some time;  hearing people was a comforting acknowledgement that I was not alone in this world; an affirmation that I was among the living.  I became numb to the sundry of noises that reverberated through my home, car and body.  I could easily work in my yard and be oblivious to the sounds marching around me; they had become so familiar that they became white noise.

I lived near  highways and hospitals; there were the endless sirens of ambulances, fire trucks and police cars. Then of course there was the occasional gun shots heard in the distance.  You usually had no idea where they originated or what their target was but you could safely assume they were not hunters. The police car’s bright lights  in the middle of the night, changing from red to blue was distracting as they would light up the front of my house.  My dog, “Red ” would then be alerted that she should be on guard duty.  This happened periodically when the neighbor across the street, who always chose the middle of the night to have a psychiatric melt down, would get the police called on her by any number of sources.  Then there were the trains clanking as they connected; you couldn’t see or hear them during day but at night the sound carried from a mile away. Because I lived in the corner of a triangle of cities and on the edge of St. Louis I was in ear shot of several different scary, inaudible voices that roared  from emergency warning systems.  I could never understand what the voices were saying but because of the tone and usually the color of the sky, I knew it was something ominous and a fear- provoking sound.  On any day there were the horns honking for many reasons, but what I came to know as the “Southside Door Bell” was the most annoying.  This is when my neighbor’s family would pull up in front of her house before 7AM and lay on the horn to announce that her ride to the garage sales had arrived.  Of course there were the cars that you heard or felt their music several blocks before they actually could be seen.  Helicopters are popular in the city; they use them to air lift patients, for traffic reports, news reports and of course the police department used them to chase people down who may be running through a neighborhood.  The helicopters took on an entirely different nuance than the “Whirly Birds”  that I loved to watch on television in my youth.  In fact, the sound of the blades chopping through the sky became unsettling as I was sure there would be a great chance that a sad announcement would follow. All this in a desirable, "quiet" suburban neighborhood on the edge of the city. 

After years of living in the same area, hearing the same noises that had become part of me,  something suddenly happened that changed what I heard.  Slowly, an undisturbed night’s sleep was a rarity, sounds that  had been oblivious to me were becoming annoying and I more readily identified them as noise.  Red even appeared to be more irritated by the sights and sounds of the city.  What started this progression of change?  One short visit to the farm last January started this ball rolling.

My first visit to the farm was unplanned and a whirl wind.  Randy was in St. Louis visiting and had proposed.  The day he was returning to the farm, just as he was walking out the door, I received news that my mother in Kansas City was having a health crisis with an unknown outcome.  Without a moment’s hesitation Randy insisted that I pack up and go with him to be with my mother.  I tossed things in the car and off we went.  The five hour road trip was filled with phone calls back and forth to the hospital, nursing home and family.  My heart was racing from all the things that had happened in the last 48 hours.  Once my brain and body gets cranked up, it is hard to turn it down.  We arrived very late; my mother was stable and sleeping, so we went straight to the farm.  We stepped out of the car and the cold crisp January air hit me in the face and then he said, “Look up.”  It wasn’t the cold air that took my breath away, it was the silence and the star filled sky.  Not a sound , except the rocks that rolled under my feet as I walked to the center of the driveway to be in a clearing to get an even better view.  Randy noticed the stars, I noticed the silence, the lack of electric energy that was NOT whirling around me.  There was no high level buzz from transformers or street lights.  It was a peace like I had rarely experienced. 

That first night was so still I was sure I would never go to sleep, but instead, I experienced one of my best night’s sleep.  With every consecutive visit my body became more and more adjusted to the sounds of the country and the lack of  noise.   As we would pack up to head back to the city my body would start getting tense and anxious knowing that it was going to have to live with a lot of extra energy and sounds that didn’t exist on the farm.  By April we were in the city five days and the farm 2 days.  We kept this schedule through this past December with extra days at the farm thrown in here and there.  With every trip it became more obvious that our hearts belonged on the farm and so did our bodies. 

These are some of the sounds that I hear.  I have come to realize that they  are melodic, music to my ears and in perfect harmony with my body, even the truck growling down our gravel road is a reminder that we are not alone on this planet and that there are other farmers making their way through their daily chores.  The cracking of the wood in the stove, not only warms our home but our hearts.  There is something very comforting to hear wood crackle and pop as it's embers glow a reassuring red that tells us we are warm and safe.  When I walk outside the geese honking over head alerts us that the weather is changing and they are taking heed. They greet us with a hello and a good bye.  We can see them working together as they plow their path through the sky, taking turns breaking the wind for the other members of their flying team.  At night when we stand gazing and marveling at the moon and stars (one of our favorite things to do)  it is not uncommon to hear the voice of an owl or the songs of the coyotes.  Sometimes we hear the coyotes answering each other.  As we walk through the timber we hear the sticks breaking beneath our feet, the leaves rustle with each step; these sounds reminds us that we are leaving tracks and scents just like the deer, rabbits and  raccoons ahead of us.  Although these animals make very little noise,  when our dogs discover their scent, they make up for the silence of the wildlife.  When the wind blows in the country you can actually hear the melody that it plays as it weaves through the trees, limbs, leaves and buildings.  When we walk through the orchard we hear the fruit falling from the trees.  Occasionally,  it is as though someone is sitting in the tree and purposefully tossing us an apple or pear, ripened to perfection, just for our pleasure and in the perfect moment.   The trickling of the creek screams at the dogs to go swimming.  It really doesn’t matter how big the body of water is, the sound of the water running is soothing and it is an invitation to fun for the dogs, kids and big people too.  There is nothing that says summer night like the call of the bull frogs and locust.  Their voices swell and diminish in a wave that they all get on and ride from dusk to dawn. It can lull you to sleep and seems to be  synchronized with the lights of the fire flies. The occasional gun shots never alarms me.  Shooting guns in the country is more recreational than anything else and more times than not they are shooting at a can or a target rather than an animal.  The hoofs of the cows as they clatter down the hill towards Randy are like a love song.  They know and trust that he has come just for them, to bring them food, check their water supply or to rid them of pesky flies.  They are obviously comforted by his presence and the harmonious sound of running hoofs and mooing is validation of their gratitude.

The list of sounds could go on and on and I know I have left out some of my favorites. I hear and learn about new sounds daily.  The point was not to make a list but to help you hear some of the sounds that called me to be a full time farmer’s wife.  These are some of the sounds that sooth my soul, lowers my blood pressure and creates a state of tranquility in my life that has been absent until now.  These are sounds that draw me into the stillness and create a longing for more stillness.  These sounds create a gap between sounds that allows me to think about bigger, greater things, to hear answers to prayers and sometimes to not have to think at all. 

Now can you understand more clearly why

I LOVE THE FARM

&

I LOVE YOU RANDY