Nov. 13th, ‘09-I took Hawken to sitter Chelsea, for 4 hours. Time to get back to Welcome Home Farm and work our cows with Doc Tom. Pure contentment for me to take good care of our animals. The satisfaction that comes from working and caring for the animals is monumental for me. It’s just goosebumps to hear the slam of the self locking headgate when a cow is declared contained. It’s a unique feeling to look @ a herd of cattle and know that how we made decisions affects the growth and performance of these beautiful animals. I relish the chance to watch them toss their heads @ me. If you think our set up is a dream-it’s our dream. On days when we carve out the time to care for our own farm and cattle-there’s a tension that can arise. It’s me that’s telling Tom-”This set up owes us nothing! The gates are rickety and there’s some boards that are smashed on the corral-but it owes us nothing!” The day progresses and the cattle go from needing to be literally pushed and shoved to being cooperative. All a direct reflection on how our emotional state is doing. We have poly wire strung here and there. Cattle are vocalizing their dis-pleasure with the process of being vaccinated and pregnancy checked.  The weaner calves are all worked up all over again and just a belloring. Limber cows do the limbo stick and try to jump over the corral chute.  Tom looks @ me and it’s a knowing we need to add another set of top boards for next time we work these girls.  Slashes of pink marking sticks ensure that in the event the cattle get all mixed together-we can differentiate the vaccinated ladies from the un-worked cattle.  Hot pink eartags are snapped onto the cattle’s ears that need identification. Our farm premise ID number is appropriately em-blazzened on each tag.  Tom’s beloved lube mustard bottle is stashed on a corral post. It’s us slithering and sliding escaping a cranky cow in a heartbeat. Crawling up the side of the pen and just watching. The hardest, most stubborn cattle are usually last and are masters @ artfully escaping.  Tom tended a Trap Shack customer and I changed needles and continued the record keeping. I’m writing down how long each girl is pregnant or mark SELL by the girls that have low slung udders or are without a pregnancy.  Tom’s back from Shack and  we proceed to hurry for  it’s  almost time to pick up Hawken from  his sitter.  I hear a crunching sound from the Gator. There’s Skinny Kitty with his body in our lunch bucket and just his  tiger tail with a white tip waving in satisfaction. He’s up to his eyeballs in animal cookies. He’s ripped the flimsy bag and is indulging in just a crunching spree that appears to surpass his normal kitty vittles. I laugh and toss him off the gator and put the lid on the lunchbox. I glance @ my watch and head to pick up the little punkin’ head. I take the “Killdeer” Cavalier to pick him up. He calls the red car, “Mama’s Killdeer.”  Hawken’s instructed to sit with Skinny Kitty on the Gator. ” More crunching and it’s the cat and the lad savoring more animal crackers. Oh well..Hawken’s licking a cherry sucker that @ least the cat isn’t interested in. “Pops! Where are you?? ‘Dat cow has her head stuck!” Every time the cow hit the head chute we were reminded that the poor cow was stuck. She’s hurt. Get it out. The white dove caught his attention. The cats paraded over and lavished the lad with love. My Ma has said, “Those cats know him. They are scared of me. Tom added,”They are scared of me too.” Ma looked @ me, ” I remember you @ that age and it was the same sweet way with the animals.” Thanks Ma and Dad for letting me have every animal I ever wanted. As long as I cared for them, I had every animal a girl could want. What a blessing. With our little wrangler, we wrap up the job. It’s almost dark and there’s clean up of  car camp and shuffling the cattle herd back to pasture, vet calls, chores and food prep for evening.  Hawken and I do chores. Tom is shuffling cattle in the dark.  Hawken feeds the ducks and has the pretzel bag from the goats treat pail.  He’s munching pretzels and in with the ducks singing, “Old McDonald had a goat..then a tractor.”  I took the blessed time to set a spell and basked in the beauty of the warm evening. Just listening to the lad singing in the darkness, crunching on pretzels and announcing to me ,”What a beautiful evening!”  Then Skinny Kitty and the cat parade are all under Hammock Hangout.  I hear muching and bask in the fulfillment of getting our cattle worked. Then it’s too quiet. I quit swinging on Apple Alley Log Swing. I look hard and see Hawken climbing over the board fence to pet the sheep and feed them pretzels. Then he climbs down and we sit on his tire sandbox  plyboard cover. “Wanna do letters Mama?”  We do our usual and crack pretzels sticks in half to form letters like “N, H, A ,Z and E.”  Then we just lie on our backs and look @ the darkness with the geese doing their low throaty occasional noise. Ducks are drifting into slumberland.  What a time to feel intense gratitude for the internal spark that pushes me to dive deeper into the reservoir of self-awareness.  It’s looking past all human  understanding to the intense knowing that smashes boundaries and bubbles blessings and makes miracles happen.  It’s trusting the un-tapped potential that flows deep in the well’s of  of consciousness when aligned with divine goodness.  It’s all here right now-ceaseless blessings, abundance and peace on Apple Alley.

Feel the Spirit,

Sue Roskos