While out repairing the electric fence the cows so delightedly tore down—I couldn’t help but enjoy the cold touch of the almost winter breeze as it cooled our late fall land even further.
It was on the last string of wire, when Shannon stopped and asked her Dad to look at into the tree. Hearing them talk I ha to leave my fencing duties to see what they found.
Another wonder of our magnificent earth…a huge wasp nest!
What a cool thing to find!
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
Shannon has done a marvelous job with the much abused Lady the mule.
In the beginning no one could get close to her.
No one.
And for sure someone wearing flannel.
But gradually, over-time, lots of carrots and apples and loves and pets she has come to trust again.
Daily brushing are not tolerated but (actually) enjoyed. Putting on the saddle is not a sign of something ‘wicked about to happen’ but an adventure with a much loved human.
Romeo and Lady are best of friends…if one goes somewhere the other is close behind. They sometimes have little squabbles and then they make up. Alway, always they are close together.
Lady even lets Terry and I pet and love on her. She has learned…it’s all about love here and she is finally safe.
Which is a very good thing.
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
We are in the last of what we can do this fall on the building. Terry finished adding in the wood stove this Friday–
While I was helping him, I saw our youngest grandchild matching her Grandfather in time and space—
Only her activity was a tad more easier. 🙂
Then as the chill wind from the Uncompaghre Plateau picked up its normal speed for evening…
We all gathered around the woodstove in the wood working shop.
Outside the the wind gusts whirled across the corn field lifting and swirling last years golden leaves, the winter birds sang their evening song, as they looked for the perfect field to bed down in for the night; the shadows lengthened into the lavender light as the earth cooled.
Shadows filled the building (although there ARE lights); we stayed beside the fire. Grandpa, a little darling granddaughter, Boomer and I…the outside wind sounding like angels wings heralding comforting peace.
From my world to your heart,
Linda
I had gathered the last of the firewood for the night and decided to take a wee walk out to the edge of the corrals and back.
The air was rich in bursts of sharp little ice crystals; cooling everything down. The sky lighting up the world, in that finale burst, before the dark of the night rose up to cloak each and everyone of us.
It felt good to walk a small space, Boomer and Mindy along for the adventure. Although, it wasn’t going to be much of and adventure…still it was a chance to clear my mind… a chance to reach beyond myself and the immediate needs of whatever that moment was.
There I stood, at the back of the farm yard — in the now empty hay stack yard letting the glow of the days ending fill me, the silence of the sleeping earth rest my body; the steady movement of the cows as they fed upon the leavings of last years crops.
Peace. Tranquility. Calm. Ease.
Then the light faded and it was time to go back in…start a little light supper (we are old now and eat very little at night)…and give thanks for this amazing time of life I get to live in.
From my heart to your world,
Linda
Thank you so very much!
Thank you, Thank you, Thank you. Your kind words, your loving stories, your endless profusion of concern and support has lifted my heart .
Giving me courage to continue onward, and forward, in this miserable abyss of Sammy’s last days.
Many of you have told me I will know, when his painful inching toward the rainbow bridge has becomes too much; at which time I will be able to help him into the after-life and into a whole and pain free existence. (I have worried that I won’t know, but I do think I will now; Sammy will tell me.)
Thank you once more!
Each one of you near and far, blog and FaceBook, commenter or reader have given me the strength to progress, I am humbled by your heart.
Love,
Linda
My precious, sweet, loving kitty–Sammy-Sam, is sick. Very sick. It all started this late summer, although, I didn’t realize it.
See his cheek on this side facing us?
He has a cancer growing there. It breaks my heart.
Sammy has been with us a long-long-long time. He is a year older than Blade, our grandson.
Right now all we can do is keep him happy…whatever that is–
Gradually the meat grinder of a cancer will completely close off his throat—it hasn’t yet—but the time is coming.
So I give him anything and everything he could ever possibly want to eat…Milk (yes Milk–he loves it and tolerates it.) He gets little dribs and drabs of it. Tuna in the canned for humans, which I mash up into teeny tiny bits, his very special roll on the ground it tastes so good expensive canned cat food, cooked chicken, beef, or turkey shredded into itsy bitsy pieces, and his all time favorite of all time…lunch meat sliced very thin—of which I once more tear into bits so small he can capture them on one claw and put them in his mouth.
When Boomer was horribly sick Sammy stayed by Boomer giving him strength and comfort–so now Boomer seems to have a watchful eye on Sam.
For years he slept on the bed, but since this slow suffocation has begun he likes to sleep in my sewing chair or by the wood stove—I check on him often throughout the night.
How can I not.
I also had to make the decision to ‘make’ him stay inside or to let him come and go as he wants.
I made the decision to let him come and go as he wants.
“You know”, I was told…”you might lose him out there. He just might die someplace out there on your farm and you won’t be able to find him”.
I know.
But he has always been and indoors/out-doors kind of cat. Mostly outdoors. I refuse to take his freedom away from him now.
So 
So—-
Until that day comes, however it comes, I will do everything I can to make his life good.
I will still take him with me to gather wood in the wheel barrel, I will feed him whatever he wants, I have even got him some medical hemp to help him with pain management
And sometimes, well, lots of time, I will cry as I hold him, or when he and I sit quietly outside smelling the air, and I will tell him in no uncertain words how much I love him, but if and when he ready, even in the midst of my despair, I will honor his wish and let him go.
But right now, today, as I right this he isn’t ready. So we continue on with Kitty Hospice my last gift to him.
Your friend on a western Colorado Farm,
Linda
“It is the mind which creates the world around us, and even though we stand side by side in the same meadow, my eyes will never see what is beheld by yours, my heart will never stir to the emotions with which yours is touched.”—George Gissing
Earthly Music is combined in such a way
That it rings forth in blending of all earth’s beauty, form and harmony,
Often times so sweetly-musical it seems unearthly in it’s charm
If you stop, stand still, try not to think…hold peace within your thoughts
The elements of harmonious chiming emotion will express themselves to you very clearly
You will feel the dreamlike borders of the earth and sky heave and fall; then the blending of the earthly sounds will fill your mind, body and soul until you feel like you are walking in the half-moonlight and a sky full of starlight.
Just stop…for a space in time…and listen. I’m positive you can hear the silver lilt of our wondrous earth.
From my world to your heart,
Linda
There is a simple beauty, which occurs as the world turns…moving the seasons forward, ever forward
Not only are the seasons reflected in the feel of the air, a turn of a calendar page, or the moisture, or lack there-of, it flickers in the sky…
That still silence place– where we sometimes forget to watch look and see…but as we hurdle headlong in to winter the sky changes from heady colors, which reflect heat (or at least warmth) the sky starts throwing light in a different way
Showing us that the cold is coming, the deep nights are soon arriving…until the surface of the sunrises and sunsets will feel
Like ice on a very deep and frozen lake.
This old photo from January 2009 says the gulf of colors from spring, summer and fall are vastly different from deep silent winter.
Oh, how I love the sky!
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
When we do a wee walk about out on the farm now… (we meaning, Boomer, Mindy, myself, and sometimes Terry)
The farm is alive with the tiny sounds of grass, weeds, or stalks being pulled with bottom teeth and tongue, then the slow rhythm of chewing; hooves moving through the above making a sort of swishing sound.
The rhythms of the farm has changed– from those of silence (although never silent…the sounds of scattering feet of little mice, voles, squirrels, or other quick but seldom seen creatures, the slow settling of a rock, or a pebble my shoe turns over…the calls of wild birds…no never silent)
To a different type of soothing sounds—the busy grazing of big beautiful cows…cradling the farm in their bovine warmth.
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
The waning moon had just risen full, with an orange glow filling the twilight air in swirling colors
The sound of Canada Geese and Sand Hill Cranes echoing through the fading light, as they searched for safe places to spend the night when….
Two semi-loads of cows pulled up to unload.
The cows have arrived! 100 cows spilled out on-to the land…some running they were so glad to escape the huge traveling trailer.
This morning our farm is full of beautiful bovines! It’s a huge joy to watch thes curious, graceful
Creatures for the rest of the winter. They bring me happiness and the land is cleaned up from all the weeds and last year’s stalks and rich dried down alfalfa; the deposit of rich manure is a guarantee of good crops for next spring.
A win-win for all of us!
YAY! The Cows are HERE!
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
Life on a Colorado Farm 