|the garden earlier in spring|
In giving thought to the food chain thing and your being what you eat, as I said, this year we heavily loaded the row crop part of the garden with rich, black, composted horse manure. So, the horses ate the grain, turned it to poop, which turned into compost, which we put on the ground to feed the plants, which will be feeding us its fruits, which will fuel our bodies before passing through to continue the cycle…I realize I am becoming one with my horses in more ways than one. Neigh. In grocery store world one is so removed from the process that it is impossible to realize this connection and the flow of the source of our energy. Growing a garden does remind me to appreciate the simplest of vegetables. It did not get here by accident and must be used to the fullest.
Life continues to roll along in the farm world despite my whining about the heat and my bad attitude about it. The horses are hot and swish their tails in a steady rhythm to thwart the biting mouths of the horse flies that plague them. I cover their coats with various sprays to try to keep them free of these flying chain saws but not much works, really. The dogs spend their days in shade, panting, spend time in the pond cooling their bellies, and when they look pitiful enough, get to come inside to enjoy the benefits of air conditioning. Life slows to a meandering pace this time of year, coping with lizard weather. Things still get done but at a snail’s pace instead of a rush to the finish line. The passing thunder storm this week dropped some much needed rain and cooled the air, and gave respite if only for a few hours, and was welcomed by all.
With the passing of seasons, the rhythms of life mark their time and things have a way of being fresh and unique, and at the same time, are a constant in the annals of the passage of time. It is nothing new for mares to become pregnant in early summer, and so again, Joline is doing her part to follow this tradition, but she is doing so now at twenty years old, carrying an early pregnancy which will hopefully make it to term, and become what will most likely be her last foal. Should she make it through to the birthing and weaning of this foal, Joline will have earned her retirement and will have to do nothing more than eat grass for the rest of her days, her job will have been done, and well.
On another front, an equally repeated occurrence in the general course of most lives has happened, but one which is totally new and unique to me. That is the announcement of my eldest daughter’s pregnancy. While people have been replicating for some time now, for me, the idea of a new person coming into my life, that is part of my life, of me, and of all the ancestors from generations past, is a bit mind blowing. “I am going to be a grandmother” isn’t something that is rolling off my tongue easily yet. It is a concept difficult to conceptualize. There will be a new person on this planet in December. Yet another of a life changing event that is as normal as the passages of days, but stands huge in my sights. My immediate thoughts turn to “how in the heck will we ever baby proof this house?” That thought, is daunting and a bit overwhelming, but one that will have to be met with at some point down the road.
In my mind, however, lurks the strong disbelief that I am old enough to be a grandmother at all, and that my child is old enough to be a parent. Time keeps on ticking, right into the future. It will be interesting to be on this side of situation after having witnessed the change in my parents when they became grandparents. They turned into goo-goo babbling idiots for a while there and let the grandkids get away with murder compared to our restrictions as youths. I suppose we will not be too different. I think that is the plan in life.