Today when I woke up it was 78 degrees in the house. It's going to be another double deodorant day. I let the Daisy pup out for "go peepee" time. I then get the coffee going and eat a popsicle. Because if you didn't know, popsicles are the cure for zero air conditioning in a 167 year old farmhouse.
While my coffee is perking, I check the "littles" (baby quails and turkeys), and give them food and fresh well water. I introduced the quails to the turkeys the day before and they are getting along splendidly. I imagine after we release them, that for years to come we will see quail and turkeys running the property together. Maybe I've found the cure for the population decline of Bobwhite Quail? Maybe they just need a body guard? The neighbors think I'm crazy. But that's nothing new.
I travel to what I call "The Morning Room" and drink my first cup of french press. Just because we're country-fied, doesn't mean we can't enjoy proper coffee. "The Morning Room" is the room I do my morning warm-up stretches. I sip my over creamed coffee, and prepare for the day. Mentally, I ready for today's dance as I read my devotional, pray, and do my scripture writing. Scripture writing is a new thing for me. I'm not just re-writing verses, but actually using a sketch pad, and what ever media I feel like doodling it with. I make the verses look beautiful. Well, to me anyway. I see the beauty of the words more clearly after I use alluring colors. I think Jesus would approve of my scribbles. My attempt at making the words come alive, and sparking my brain to remember them. Just like a child bringing home their artwork to hang of the fridge. The fridge in my brain is the perfectly practical place to store ones artwork of scripture to their Father. Right? I highly recommend it.
Well my first cup is gone, time to get dressed. It's time for the dirty dancing to begin. That means it's outside to care for the "bigs" and rotate them in cooler areas with shade. Every morning, afternoon and night, it's the same song and dance. Or maybe jump and jive would be more accurate. I say that because it's more of a sweaty, poopy, zumba class than a classy waltz. Toes get stepped on, water gets spilled (usually on me), and a pile of poo gets somehow stepped in.
I think Maggie does it on purpose. I think she relishes when I slide in a fresh pile of cow pat. Especially when I'm not wearing proper foot attire and it squishes between my toes. She is a pushy, butt-butting, literal pain in the butt (I have the bruises to prove it). But she's my problem child, and I love her anyways. Cows I've learned, are more dramatic and abusive than other animals. Emotionally and physically. Maggie tests my patience every. single. day. Silly me, I once prayed to God to help me with my patience, as I've never been a patient person, and his answer to that was a smart-arse, bossy cow. Touche Lord, touche.
The horses are relatively easier. They do their shuffle with obedience, because they know the reward of fresh grass is just the next paddock over, and that I'm the gate to getting there. They are kinder dance partners, considerate to personal space. They listen to a good wack applied when necessary. A cow will just look at you and swat you back with her tail. I think that's equivalent to the middle finger in bovine body language.
After the boss wrangling and horse herding, the poultry are released from their coop. Everyday is Black Friday to them. They stampede, taking down any poor sap in their way for the deal of their lifetime. Free food. They make me do the hokey pokey or Cupid Shuffle, as I try to not step on anyone. One could easily put out a hip taking care of chickens and ducks.
The last but not least morning chore is care of my farm hands; the hounds. My good boy "Harvee" has been up all night, standing guard against intruders on the farm. Daisy Pup is like a little sister on Red Bull to him every morning, as he's getting off night shift and she's had a full night sleep. After belly filled and a "good job" petting, my good boy settles in the shade for a snooze. Actually everyone looks like they're in for a post breakfast nap.
The morning dance changes from a frantic pace to a slower rhythmic one. The critters are content for now, munching their greens and grains. I can finally take a breath. Now's my chance for a quick shower to wash the blood (somehow mine), sweat and poo off.
Or should I work in the garden first?
Or do I just want to have another cup of coffee?
Oh wait, I have laundry to get on the line.
Maybe I should eat something?
Dang, it's hot.
Popsicle anyone?
Well described