Friday, February 11, 2011

You Might Have to Be a Farmer to Understand

 You might have to be a farmer to understand the dread that comes on a frigid morning when there are new babies on the farm. You've given them straw, and provided heat lamps. You've done everything you know how to do to keep those fragile little ones warm.

Though you try your best, sometimes when the temperatures have plummeted into the teens or lower, you go out in the morning to find your best wasn't good enough. Then you get to spend the day with a pit in your stomach wondering what you could have/ should have done differently to help that little one make it through the bitter night.

You might have to be a farmer to understand the overwhelming sense of relief when your morning goes differently. You've dreaded going out, afraid of what you might find. You've approached the buildings where the brand new babies reside, and hesitated at the door. You've cautiously approached the pen, and glanced quickly to see if you spot any babies that have fallen overnight. Relieved, you take a closer look. You might even start counting to double check that everyone is accounted for, and then there is an audible sigh of relief as you realize that they all made it through the night.

This morning was such a morning. *sigh*

10 comments:

  1. So glad the news was good that day!
    Aunt N

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  2. First time visiting your blog. Just beautiful words, you truly know how to express your heart. I look forward to reading more.

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  3. yay! happy dance... and praying for higher temperatures!

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  4. Years ago I lived on a farm,so I know what your talking about,got to take care of those babies. I am following your blog, you are welcome to follow mine as well. Blessings jane

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  5. I hate that sick feeling. So glad for you :)
    Best wishes Sarah P

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  6. The tide of thankfulness that comes is so powerful!

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  7. Ahhh, cute little piggy and chicks. Spring will be here before ya' know it.

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  8. Absolutely awesome! Keeping my fingers and my toes crossed for ya'! Only the best of good luck!

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  9. I understand completely, here in Maine it has gone down as far as -14, I hold my breath every morning and say little prayers going to the barn - I open the door and hear all the noise and then know its going to be a good day!

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  10. That is a horrible feeling - dreading the trip to the coop in the morning. My ladies are all in their prime but I still worry with these cold temps. I slowly enter the shed and wait to hear the clucking and then I count - even though I know they are confined to the coop in this weather. i count just to give myself peace of mind, I think. Knowing that my charges made it through another winter night, all huddled together.
    Then I have a sigh of relief, until the next morning.

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