Well, just as soon as I posted last night that Bart was on his way, I got a phone call from a sleepy, tired, grumpy man. That happens to all men sometimes, doesn't it? They overextend themselves and then revert to being tired, grumpy toddlers. There's no reasoning with them. You simply have to let them go rest and then they'll be over it in the morning. So, Bart didn't show up until this morning and he was over it. That's ok, I am never alone on the farm or without companionship because I always have my animals.
Last night, the dogs, cats, and I watched last week and this week's episodes of Bill Maher on the DVR. He is so funny and actually has valid political discussions but the humor stops it from becoming rabid. Maybe that's what we need--more humor, less rabid political discussions? Remember, I worked in politics for nine years 1986-1995. It was a considerably more civil era in our political discourse. We didn't think so then. We thought it was very competitive, and well, it was politics. You didn't want to watch the process too closely if you had a weak stomach.
Compared to today's environment--whew--the political environment of my day was a children's matinee! I think it was a more collegial environment. We got a lot done for people and business didn't suffer. I live in a "red" state and we were still able to help children, the elderly, poor, and disabled without hurting business.Today, I don't think we do nearly as good a job balancing those issues. And, to top it off, people are rude to each other. When did people start being rude and hysterical to get a point across?
I long for the old days, obviously. And, I saw the old days up close and personal. So it's not a fantasy of a bygone era, it was the real thing and I was in it for nine years. If politicians were rude to each other, it was quietly and behind closed doors and it wasn't often. You know why? They might have to ask that person for their support next week. Collegial. It's missing. Ok, I'll get off my soap box and tell you about the farm.
So Bart showed-up bright and early to help me with the morning chores. No, I don't get to church very often on Sundays. I go to the church of This Farm. I think God sees taking care of his creatures as a valid reason to be absent from formal worship as long as you're thankful, love Him with your whole heart, and love your neighbors as yourself. That's my view, anyway.
We did morning feed and turned horses out. Took care of Shadow's special diet and medication and, although he looks like himself again, we're going to see the whole process through till Tuesday. While I was doing the indoor routine (minus the cat herding), Bart was breaking-up ice in the water troughs. When we work as a team, it gets done quickly enough to give us time to go out for a late breakfast.
After a late breakfast, almost lunch, we relaxed a little and spent some much needed time together. I've been stuck at the farm so much with the Bible College on winter break that our time has been put on the back burner this month. Again, I'll be glad when the herd of little Christians is back on schedule next week. But, until then, after three hours, it was back to work for us--stall cleaning and setting them up with fresh hay and water for the evening. Filling up water troughs. Leaving spigots dripping and hoses drained since it's probably going to be below freezing again tonight. And, of course, evening feed and bringing in those horses who come inside every night. A farmer's work is never done, not even on Sundays.
You may wonder how Bart feels about being included in this blog. I read him the post from last night. Although he laughed at most of the appropriate places and he didn't disagree about my assessment of Pip, it makes him a little uncomfortable--even though Bart is his "display name" and not his real name. He especially doesn't like the positive things I said about him. You read that right. He would rather I say he's a grumpy old fart who's hard on the eyes and difficult to tolerate. But, it's just not true. He's as great as I told you he is. He did like the Elmer Fudd part. He thinks that's a more accurate picture of himself--don't believe it though.
This is a guy who drove 20 miles from another small town on a Sunday morning to help do farm chores in the cold when he didn't have to. He could have sat around in his robe with his coffee and newspaper like most folks. But, he didn't and he doesn't. He's more of a man than that. Hmmm...I'm swooning again.
Ok, folks, it's time to take my 24 hour weekend. Rose is taking care of the farm tomorrow so I can have a break. I'll try to get one of those essays posted for you. They are a bit more serious, but I hope they encourage you, as they do me, to remember we're going to make it through this tough economy. We will and we do, indeed, have choices in the meantime.
For now, good night and sleep tight. Thank you for reading.
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