Where did the Week Go?

2.25.24

Last week flew by at quite an alarming pace! It feels as if it was a mere couple of days ago when my friend Lynda was up here picking up her Sunday milk and once again another Sunday is upon us. It is not as if I got a lot accomplished this past week. Well, not enough that I could account for the time zipping by so fast although I did take a day to make soap since the urge hit me and my soap stores were getting low. Other than that I have to admit it was mainly helping Darrell with morning feeding chores then plonking myself in my easy chair that filled my days since I still have a bit of a dicky heart. Not a very inspiring week I will admit.

The past two days have been absolutely glorious! Warm and sunny with a gentle breeze, perfect days that lure you outside and draw your eyes to the garden where the detritus of last year’s corn stalks and remnants of Brussel sprouts still stand tall. Thoughts of starting seeds, tilling up the ground pass briefly through one’s mind but then logic settles in as one remembers it is only the tail end of February. How easy it is to be lulled into a sense of complacency and contemplations of balmy spring days being just around the corner.

Mother Nature has indeed set the grass to growing and it is true the buds are swelling on the lilac bush and maple trees. The wild currant bush we have allowed to grow just in front of our porch has tiny little green leaves starting to peek out from what otherwise still looks like dry, dead twigs. Since this bush produces some of the very first flowers of the year up here on the hill, such necessary food for our local wild bumblebees, surely Mother Nature is signaling it will be an early spring don’t you think? Yet as I pulled up the weather forecast this morning it is showing rain and snow, yes snow, returning tonight and tomorrow, maybe lingering through the week. I have hope for another glorious day today as our barometer is currently holding steady and sometimes, I put quite a bit more stock in that than the weatherman.

Yet even if we do get a covering of snow, it will be welcome. For it will lay atop the ground like an insulating blanket of white feather down. The earth will warm beneath it encouraging the grass to grow more vigorously.  Yes, we will probably have frost when the nights drop below freezing, but as that departs, moisture will soak into the soil which we and the plants are so thankful for. Of course, with the accompanying moisture and forecasted rain, there will be mud.

I do not like mud. My milk cow Heidi detests mud! When morning milking time comes, I watch as Heidi picks her way down to the paddock gate, tail held high, seemingly walking on tip toes as she navigates the muddy track. Goodness me, one would think the mud was half way up to her belly the way she walks as opposed to it just barely covering her toes! Standing at the gate she will stare at me while I hook up the milker to the compressor pump, anticipating the sound of grain being dumped in her manger. As I walk over to open the paddock gate and say “okay”, her signal to pass through, she trots to the milk parlour and I hear her horns clank on the stanchion as she puts her head in and starts munching on her grain before I even get the paddock gate closed. She knows the routine. Suddenly mud is the last thing on her mind!

This time of year, I seldom leave the house without my wellies on. I love my wellies. They are an extension of my feet, part of the uniform of a farmer if you will. I grew up wearing wellies and am very particular about the ones I wear. No hard uncomfortable black plastic ones for me, no, they have to be flexible and comfy no matter how cold it gets outside. Mud is no match for a good pair of wellies, and we definitely are in the season of mud. That’s alright since mud means moisture.

As I glance out the window the sky is brightening by the minute. Layers of clouds suggest the weatherman might be right after all and something tells me our barometer will change by this afternoon as the storm system rolls in. Right now, I can see four deer bedded down on the top of our root cellar with two others munching away at the new grass shoots starting to show. Covered in a mound of soil, our root cellar looks like a Hobbit house and the deer seem to take great comfort in having the roof available to them for a bedding spot. Soon they will get up and stretch, making their way towards the adjacent milk cow’s field to have a nibble on the alfalfa that is just starting to show before heading back into the woods.

That must mean it is time for me to get my milker put together, fill Heidi’s wash bottle full of hot soapy water and don my coat and wellies for the trek to the milking parlour. When I get back, Darrell will be on the front porch waiting to carry the heavy milk pail into the house for me, a cup of tea already made and waiting. After taking care of Heidi’s daily offering, we will sit side by side and discuss what is on the agenda for the day and coming week. A busy week it will be but a grand one, I am sure.