August 22, 2018
I seem to feel an urgency that comes with the knowledge that
the seasons will soon be changing.
Sometimes the seasons kind of sneak up on us and before we are really
aware, time has passed, and we are left unprepared. Denying that winter will inevitably come is
foolish. We have much left to do and
having had a taste of winter here in the Mountains, we are no longer oblivious
to at least some of what is in store for us, although one never knows just how
much snow and cold there will be. Much
of my time the past month has been spent preserving food for winter. I have over 200 jars of canned goods on the
shelves in the root cellar, most of which were canned this season. While I would like to have double that
amount, I am thankful and pleased at the results of my hard work lined up and
ready to feed us this winter. I also
have an upright freezer full of fruits and vegetables. In addition, I have been diligently making
butter and cheese to store up for when my cows are dried off this winter. This is what I love and I am thankful to be
able to devote so much time to it.
As I think of changing seasons, I can’t help but think about
that season of life we know as youth.
Too quickly that season passes and for myself, I think I was caught
completely off guard when I realized it had indeed passed. I think I was in denial, believing that my
body, mind and spirit would somehow hold onto youthful vitality forever and
then one morning I awoke to the reality that spring is not eternal. Yes, I am one of those who woke up one
morning and looked in the mirror and said to myself, “When did I get this old?”
With the awareness and acceptance of how quickly time is passing comes a
greater appreciation for each moment that we are given, and while it would be
easy to bemoan the loss of youth, it makes more sense to embrace today. I suppose the same can be said for the
changing of the seasons from spring, to winter, to fall and finally
winter. Each season must be neither
rushed or mourned in it’s passing so as to receive the gifts that each season
has to offer.
Mike arose early this morning, long before daylight, gathered
a few clothes, climbed into the truck hooked to an enclosed trailer and headed
North. He left early enough to make the
three-hour trip and be in Verona in time to take his mom to an 8:30 am
appointment. After bringing her home
from having cataract surgery, Mike will work on mowing hay as there looks to be
a three-day window of good weather for the area. He is also working toward getting some
equipment together to sell as we continue to downsize and mainstream. He has people wanting hay, which he will have
to deliver, and there will be people pulling him in every direction while he is
there. Being in Staunton is always labor
intensive as we try to accomplish everything we can when there. We always get
back to Laurel Fork completely exhausted, not only physically but emotionally
too a lot of times.
I remained behind to
milk today and tomorrow morning, then I will make a 24-hour trip to help move
most of our things out of The Factory Antique Mall as we try to clear out of
there. I dread the drive up and back but
the positive out of it is I will be able to see all the grandkids.
August 27, 2018
As evening ended, Mike and I pulled the Utility Vehicle out
of the garage and headed to the back forty to check on the cattle there. It didn’t take us long to find them and
assure ourselves that they were all ok.
My eyes scanned the pasture field and my heart swelled with thankfulness
for the abundance of grass and the room my cattle have to roam. From where I sat, I could not see another
house neither could I see the road. The
only thing I could see was rolling, mountain, pasture land surrounded by mature
forest. Moments like this are precious
to me. I wanted to hang on to it and
just sit and absorb the beauty into my soul but we had work to do. Some things have changes since we moved the
cattle from Staunton to Laurel Fork, and one of those things is the amount of
time I have to just absorb and reflect on the beautiful world around me. I am perfectly content and doing exactly what
I want to do, extremely happy that the Jerseys are here with me, but I have to
make a real effort to step back and remember to just breathe in the moment in
light of all the things we would like to accomplish. Mike and I together, work hard to keep the
balance that is so important to us. We
have lived a life out of balance for many years, and while that is necessary
for a time, we don’t want to lose what we have found here by allowing our
goal-oriented personalities to keep us from enjoying life and enjoying each
other. Before the cattle came to Laurel
Fork, I would have insisted we go higher so that I could view Buffalo Mountain
rising above all the other peaks and calling to me with the mystery of her
ancient past. But, we needed to move the
electric netting and give the momma cows more grass to eat and it was going to
be dark soon.
Mike and I worked together to move the fence, pulling it up
one stake at a time, being careful not to get it tangled, moving the fence to a
new location, and then carefully stretching and putting each stake back in the
ground. Mike, having done this many
times now, moved quickly and efficiently.
I assisted as directed and I while it took some time to move such a large
amount of fence, I was impressed with how smoothly things went. We had left the momma cows in the barn with
some hay to eat while we worked and after the fence was back up and connected
to the charger, I turned them back out to see the boundary lines before it got
completely dark. The calves ran, kicking
up their hills as they recognized a new grazing opportunity. The simple things are the best things.
I hadn’t gathered the eggs and I had left the vintage, wire
basket that I use back at the house, so when Mike and I went together to get
the eggs out of the already dark chicken coop, he held his phone for a light,
gathered the eggs, and placed the gently in my shirt that I held up with one
hand forming a large pocket for the 15 large brown eggs. Holding onto my eggs gently with one hand, I
used the other hand to open the gate so we could get the ATV back to the
garage.
As I cradled my eggs and walked back to the house while Mike
parked the Kubota, I marveled at how quickly another week had past. It had been a good week. We had been greatly stressed for part of the
week with Mike working so hard to get the things done he needed to accomplish
in Staunton. My time there wasn’t long
enough but I had to return within 24 hours in order to milk. We took the time to go see Kristin, Nate, the
twins and our new grandbaby. Holding a newborn
is so precious and watching Hudson and Ella with Teagan was such a joy. They love her so much and are going to be
amazing older siblings. She’s a lucky
little girl to have them for a big brother and big sister. I had wondered how we were going to be able
to see all the grandkids now that the older three are school, but Analia had
two different doctor appointments with a few hours between, so I was able to
spend time with her between her appointments.
I needed about four hours to clean out the booth at Factory Antique Mall
but only had two hours to work. I did as
much as I could. The rest will have to
wait until next time. I did manage to
get a truck load of item loaded and some other items marked down in hopes that
we will sell a few more things before shutting down that space. We ran by Sharp Shopper while in Harrisonburg
visiting and picked up a few items there that we can get for about half of what
we have to pay for them in Carroll County.
I told Mike that I really don’t understand why the areas with a greater
number of impoverished people have higher priced groceries. I see it in Carroll County and I see it in
Chattooga County in Georgia where my paternal family lives. Neither of us having eaten since early
morning, we decided to grab a bite to eat at an Italian Restaurant in
Bridgewater on our way home where we use to eat sometimes when we would go to
Shenandoah Valley Produce Auction. It
was already 9 pm but as we sat on the patio and watched the traffic go by, we
actually recognized someone that we know driving by in their truck with produce
for his stand down the road. I always
breath a prayer of thankfulness that we are not killing ourselves with produce
anymore each time I see some of our old acquaintances and friends from those days
still working so hard to make a living in that manner. It’s all good until you lose the joy of what
you are doing, and I see the weariness in the faces of so many who try to make
a living in this manner. And yet, for
those who do it, there is a drive that won’t allow them to let go. Mike is like that. I think his little honor system cart at the
end of the road keeps him fairly happy, but I know from time to time he really longs
to get back in the thick of things. Yet,
he realized the level of dedication it takes to do it and he is enjoying the
freedom of not having to kill himself to meet the demands of selling
produce.
While I was exhausted when we got back to our house in
Staunton where Alissa, Gabino and the girls were already sound asleep, I didn’t
sleep long. It was probably 11 by the
time I got in bed and by 3 am I was awake and unable to calm my mind. I was anxious to get back, check on my cows,
and milk. I also was anxious about the
drive back. Having come at two separate
times and in two different vehicles to the valley, Mike and I would be
returning separately. I really don’t
enjoy driving long distances anymore. I
get so sleepy and the traffic on 81 is always heavy. I went ahead and got up a little after three,
worked on gathering some things to take back with me to Staunton as we always
try to take a full load back with us when we go, and then waited for the little
girls to get up so that I could spend time with them before Analia went to
school. When they woke up, we read books
and played until time for them to go. I
then met Mike at his Mom’s place where he loaded up a bushel of potatoes he had
dug from the garden there and about 40 pounds of tomatoes. Being late in the season, the tomatoes where
not as nice as the ones we had been picking, but we had a few to sell and some
for me to can.
I made it back home to Laurel Fork without incident and in
pretty decent time. I did get super
sleepy and pulled over once to try to get myself more alert before hitting the
road again. When I got back to the
house, I had so much to do. I unloaded
the truck and milked the cow for starters.
I found that the cows had gotten into a storage building while I was
gone and spilled paint, knocked a lot of things over and shuffled them around,
as well as pooping throughout the whole building. I straightened things up as best I could and
then shoveled out the manure. After
catching up on those chores, I headed for the kitchen and made enough vegetable
soup mixture that I was able to pressure can 7 quarts and freeze an additional
three quarts. I was just finishing that
up when Mike pulled into the driveway, around 8 pm with the cattle
trailer. I had asked him to bring a
young bull down with him. I had intended
to Artificially Inseminate my Jerseys this year and not keep a bull, but I have
just not been able to organize and coordinate that whole process. Having a young bull available, I just decided
to bring him in and see if he can get the open cows bred. I went outside to help Mike with the gates so
he could unload the bull up by the barn.
Rascal was happy to get off the trailer and see familiar faces. He is an easy-going bull and not any trouble
at all, unlike the older bull I have in Staunton who is a royal pain, but
mostly just a show off as we have never had him charge us personally. The old bull does make a big show of pawing
the ground, roaring, and presenting a strong presence. After being charged a few years back by one
of the bulls we had who smashed and ground my hand into the gate while I was
trying to open it, I have always been extremely aware and cautious with Rudy. One
morning back about five years ago when he was pawing and screaming at me while
I was trying to milk at 3 am before watching the grandkids for a twelve-hour
day, I just got incredibly angry with him for being such a jerk and I
temporarily lost my mind. I grabbed a
stick and opened the gate screaming some not so nice words at him while I shook
that stick in his face. Except for the
pole light, the area was dark as it was before daybreak and as I advanced
screaming at him he began to step backwards, never taking his gaze off of
me. Had I not been so angry, I would
have never done what I did, but I was exhausted from long hours and tired of
him standing and harassing me every morning while I milked. I shook my stick in his face, never touching
him physically but beating him up with my words. The further I advanced the more he retreated
until he got to the entrance of the holding area where the cows gathered for
milking and then he turned quickly and ran.
After he was gone and I realized what I had done, I started shaking and
crying but for a few moments, I had battled with the bull and beat him where it
counts, that being mentally. From that
moment on, while he continues to bellow and blow and paw the ground to this day
in his fantastic show of force, all I have to do his shake my stick at him and
yell and he backs off. I have enough
respect for him, especially having been attacked by another bull, to inwardly
be wary of him, but one must never allow a bull to know you are afraid of
them. You must never turn your back or
run. While I would advise others NOT to do what I did with Rudy with
a battle of the wills, it was enough to make him think that I was bigger than
him and worthy of respect. I got
lucky. It could have easily gone the
other way. In the end, it meant that
Rudy got to stay a whole lot longer than most of the bulls on our
property.
Old Rudy won’t be coming to Laurel Fork. I won’t be putting up with his antics here,
but we will try Rascal for a short while and see how he does. I don’t expect any trouble out of him at all,
his having been raised on our farm in Staunton.
He has a good disposition. We
will only keep him here long enough to breed the cows and then he will make the
trip back to the valley. I have been
lucky. Mostly, I have only had good,
easy to handle bulls over the years and most of the bulls I have sold to others
have been easy keepers. There are always
exceptions to that rule, especially when dealing with Jersey bulls, who are
considered the most aggressive of the dairy breeds but with proper handling
(that being hands off as much as possible), and making attempts to keep them
within a herd situation so that they are not isolated, giving them plenty of
space to roam, and having fences and facilities set up in such a manner that
they can be moved easily, I have found the bulls to be fairly easy keepers and
so much more convenient than having to artificially inseminate. With that said, I don’t believe that dairy
bulls are a good match for every farm and I would say they are not a good match
for most homestead/family cow situations where many folks are not familiar with
what it takes to keep a bull, keep him content, and keep all humans safe.
Looking back over this past week, it has certainly been
another busy one and looking ahead to this coming week, it will be even
busier. I’m thankful that age has given
me a bit of wisdom and that I can see how things balance out with time and the
right attitude. Instead of looking ahead
to this week that will have some difficult moments and letting the upcoming
events persuade me that the hard times must define me, I can look ahead with
the realization that there will be a lot of blessings this week that will
balance out some emotionally challenging things I will have to face. Life is full of seasons and this week and the
tasks at hand are simply a part of the seasons of life. With spring comes flowers, with summer comes
increased light, with fall we have the gorgeous changing of the leaves, and
with winter comes the softly falling snow flakes. So it is goes with each day, each week, month
and year that we live.