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Down on the farm - pets

 

As I listen in on my long drive to my grandpa's farm, I begin to hit that diminutive angle that all the time takes me back in time. I now live in town or the city, but my roots run deep, back in time I go to that a small amount area I once lived in, where I grew up, where I was raised. I then call back a epistle that I established from a cousin not long ago. I had asked some questions as to equipment she remembered from the past, when we were young girls and all that seemed to exist was that farm, in my mind anyways. I accepted wisdom long and hard about what she had written.

She ongoing by reminding me of all the fun times and memories we had shared. Then she reminded me of a past with hurt but yet equipment beyond and let go of. She told me, 'we grew up in a hard life, at times with clothes about us that we had no charge of and no way to continue to exist at the time, yet only we knew how'. She then told me, 'I know why you were so close to all those animals. I know why they were so close to you. They were your family, the one you adopted and the ones who adopted you'.

Sometimes I think one of the most maximum gift a character can give to a different human being is the gift of self. One of the citizens or citizens of a area that need to be celebrated is that of the adoptive families. Who desperately want what most have and do not even care for, and they reach out and acknowledge those that others were not capable to, which I respect, but then there are those who do not want the brood they have and this is true. So these loving and serene colonize await for the gifts from God that were meant for them, but were given by means of a big name else, and they do so with an open and true heart, and can genuinely look past themselves and adopt one from another. I think they deserve so much for their hard work but then again with patience they by now have what they sought.

So back to my animals. Active on a farm isn't easy not if you are an beast lover. It is hard work all the way about and I honestly miss that life, that time. I chew on on mornings spent in gardens that sustained us by means of every season, we weren't ones who went to town every day or week, it was once in a existence experiences for us and we on the odd occasion had that luxury. We lived off the land and we dear that and we respected what God and hard work gave us. It was hard work. We did live off the land. We lived by our own hands and sweat. It was the best times of my life and I wouldn't have traded one day for any of the assets in the lives we now lead.

I guess I am a clean girl, with old traditions, and a diminutive old fashioned. I live in a world of convenience but wish for the old. I look at the lives of others about me who came from the same place, and when we talk it brings each of us back to a further time and place where we felt at peace with each other and with the world. It was never a dull moment. Ancestors came to visit and would stay for weeks and we were glad for the company, each chipped in and the stories are what we longed to hear not the radio or TV. It was the communiqu? concerning cold families and generations. I miss that. I was the oldest out of the grand kids, bar my two step- sisters, but I was the oldest from that line. I was quite a bit older than cousins and my brother, and yes the adult years of my time was spent with the animals of the farm. We had cats, dogs, chickens, turkeys, ducks, pigs, a horse at one time, but some of my fondest memories were those spent with my grandpa's herd of cattle.

This is so funny as one of my associates also grew up on a farm with cattle, and one day we laughed for hours over the many memories we had in regards to farm life. My grandpa would all the time take me with him out in the pastures and up in the fields and woods, inspection on fences, inspection on the cattle, in particular when they were due to calve. I even told my son just the other night how I was forbidden to go in those fields alone as of the bulls but essentially the herd bull, and any person who knows farm life will know how perilous they can be. But I never listened I was continually in those fields and I consider meeting at educate day-dreaming about what path I desirable to take as soon as I got home to find them. As soon as my feet hit that dirt road, I was on my way, running, to get home to drop off my books, grab a sandwich, and head out the door with my grandma yelling, 'you advance not go up in that field again'. And I would be gone on one path to the next, my grandpa owned a lot of property, till I found the herd.

Now what was so great about a bunch of cattle that just stood about and did nothing? For one it wasn't me just killing out with cows, it was me examination them , studying them and the ancestors assembly they created. I became an admirable hunter not of just cattle but of flora and fauna and cleanly animals period. I would track cats to find their kittens, since they are so good at defeat them. I would track the cattle to their calves. Which they would hide as deer will hide their fawns in shrubbery or shrubs. My grandpa would have approximately 20-30 cattle at a time, every now and then less, at times more, depending on the time of year. This was my time spent, Fall, Winter, Spring, Summer.

I lived to be with those cows. They looked at me and seemed to just admit the fact that I was an odd calf or just a crazy being to be over- looked. The bull never hot and bothered me and at times I felt he even looked out for me. As many studies have been done on the category assembly of animals, I guess maybe that was my own study. They were very in tune to one another. They were very defensive of not just their calves, but of that of the total herd. They had sitters for their babies as a rule younger cows who seemed to play and dote on the young ones, the bull was the defender by far, the older cows would every so often take in orphans or try to take over the young of the other cows, there was a pecking order and it was intact always.

I am not sure where I fit in, but I do know I did, and I was never fearful and I at all times had fun. It was an silent foreign language concerning us, they trusted me and I desired them. It helped me to escape, it helped me to not remember my troubles and being a child you need that. I would come home about dark, get my ass whipped, and carry on on the next day. It was continually the same. One of the worst days for me was when my grandpa certain he could no longer care for them and they were slaughtered and sold, and the days that came to pass were to horrific for me, to this day, to talk about, and I won't, but just let me say farm life is tough and it was a life erudition encounter for me and skilled me a lot about many things.

One of my beloved sitting room to go was on top of hill where the trees broaden out, and it was like a tent or canopy, one tree struck by lightening lay flat in- among two others that were still standing, it was hollow and cut out, I would take a blanket and lay in that tree under the cover with the cows laying and dreamy not far way, my dogs meeting by the tree examination my every move, and me lessening having a lie-down atmosphere 100 % safe and right in the world.

I hit that area I take in the smell of the air and the smell of fresh cut hay, I listen in to the breeze and the birds and I feel the sun shining on my face by means of the open window. I turn off the radio and take it all in. I start down that dirt road I walked so many years ago, I round a bend and see the old farm house and look past it to the fields. I miss those days and what they represented to me over and over. I benefit to years past, the equipment you learn from cows, the equipment your learn from nature, and the clothes you miss when it is gone. Merit for listening! God Bless You!

Vaughn Pascal

To Dakota: I love you.

To God and Jesus: Thank you!


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