It Just Seemed Right

I love where I live. I love what we have built here. I love our home. It is a pleasure to take care of all of it. Yes, sometimes I complain. And sometimes I get really, really tired. But the work I have here causes a good tired. There is no stress, no deadlines, no absolute demands, so the work is simply good-feeling, drop-dead tired work.

In past years, I did worry about our hay. I wanted it cut at just the right time, weed free, and a "no-rain" cut. I did stress about that a bit. But I don't worry about it as much any more. As old as we are getting, I no longer expect perfection. I have a "If we don't get what we want, we will just do something else,"  kind of attitude now. It's kinda freeing.

I do still try to do things to the best of my ability. I do not like half-way stuff. It bugs the heck out of me. My grandpa used to say, "If the job's worth doing, it's worth doing right." I can't tell you how many times, when I was working and tired and tempted to give up, that phrase would come running through my head. I would think of Grandpa (and my dad's) perfection and I would tarry on, until I got it right.

The birds are an important part of our life here. I love them. The minute we bought this place and I heard the meadowlarks and saw the bluebirds (both birds from my childhood) I turned into a fanatical old "bird lady". Sometimes I do still stress about the birds. Don't worry though, it's only mildly. But I do take them as my responsibility if they nest here. They are my birds. I want to protect them, aid them and enjoy them. Other than the meadowlarks and bluebirds that I have already mentioned, we have killdeer, mourning doves, northern flickers, and of course the more common birds like sparrows, swallows and robins. We also have chickadees, and this year we had a yellow canary and his mate. That was fun!

The other day I finally made it out to my garden. I hadn't been out there in a couple days due to my job in town. I have a little part time job, that I really enjoy, but sometimes it does run my life. I don't like that part of it so much. That just doesn't seem right. But anyway, I hadn't made it out to my garden for two days, so I wanted to go out and check my cucumbers and beans. I picked a nice bunch of beans and then turned to my cucumbers. I was saddened when as I started to pick, I saw a dead bird between the rows. I looked at it confused. It was whole and fresh. What in the heck could have killed this poor bird. It was a killdeer, I could tell by the long beak. But I wanted to look closer,to try to figure out what could have killed this poor baby. I then looked at the legs to be sure it was a killdeer; I knew the long legs would immediately help me identify it. Now the little body was in no way emaciated or broken down yet, but I still just wasn't sure what kind it was due to the way it was laying, I guess. I couldn't see its head, and his little white belly was facing up. But when I looked at his feet, that is when I saw what I never in a million years would imagine could have happened. One of the runners from the cucumber plant had gotten wrapped around the little bird's foot. It had in effect trapped the bird. When I saw it, I was broken hearted. It was bad enough to find it dead, but when I knew it had suffered, I couldn't help but weep. Why hadn't I heard it call??  Maybe I had, but I ignored it as their persistent call can be pretty frequent. But I was heartbroken. This is the part of living in the country that isn't so much fun.

Now I have found other dead birds before over the years and disposed of them. This is the 3rd one I cried over. The other two were Western Bluebirds. Those stories are for another day. But this little killdeer, was the first one to get a burial. I picked him up with a plastic bag and shovel and took him to my little pet cemetery where I buried him next to Bullet. It just seemed right.

Anyway, I had a lot to do on this day, and I wanted to get to it. I got my lawn mowed and watering caught up. Things I just can't seem to get done if I have to run to town for my little job. I also wanted to finish pulling the obnoxious weed we have acquired in our pasture. MULLEIN! UGH! That weed!

I had already pulled about 2/3rds of the field and was feeling pretty good as I grabbed the 4-wheeler and headed out to the last corner. This had been quite the undertaking in this hot weather. We have discovered there is nothing that kills this weed. We have tried different sprays, we have tried doubling the strength of different sprays. We have tried a mixture of 2-4D and diesel - recommended to us by someone. That worked sort of. A few years ago, I finally got smart and googled to see what is the best way to kill this weed. I learned that the only thing to get rid of this weed, is to make sure your grass comes up in the spring first to choke it out. That makes sense and it truly is the only thing that works. And pulling it out. This summer after we cut our grass and baled hay, the weed started coming up in bare spots where the grass hadn't had time to grow. One step at a time for these pastures to get back to the condition they were in before. Another story for another time.

So anyway, all that to say, this is why I wanted to pull mullein on one of the hottest days of the summer - at least thus far. I don't know if it will help, but it just seemed right. Now, I was almost done and just wanted to finish. I was already tuckered from the garden, mowing the lawn and various other chores I had done through the day, and as I worked, Grandpa's little saying kept running through my head: "If a job's worth doing, it's worth doing right."  That encouraged me. And my thoughts began to wander. Now my little "farm" here is nothing compared to a real farm, or my Grandpa's ranch. But still, for me, it gave me a comparison. I couldn't help but wonder what Grandpa thought as he worked those hot days. He must have surely thought about the Garden of  Eden and Adam and Eve bringing the curse on us all. Yes, I know if they hadn't, we would have. But today, I couldn't help but think about the trouble disobedience brings. I bet Grandpa thought about that too, as he worked.

One thing I know, and thought about often during our years on our little hay farm is that farmers realllllllly count on the weather/elements. You know - "Mother Nature". Rather, Father God! And I have always said the one place other than fox holes, where there are no atheists, must be the farms. Pretty sure, farmers pray. It just seems right.

Oh, and about that mullein -  the bees LOVE it. So therein was another dilemma for me. I hated pulling that stuff thinking I was destroying their food source or what ever it is. The bumble bees were thick and they were the biggest bumble bees I have ever seen. I saw a few that were an inch and a half long. UGH! I know people want the bees protected. And I do try not to destroy them.  I guess it is all about the balance. Pretty sure Grandpa thought about this too. But God said to subdue the land. I also have to think about my horses to give them good hay. So I pulled the mullein. Truthfully sometimes I just don't know what is best to do. So I just pulled mullein and buried the dead. It just seemed right. "If a job's worth doing, it's worth doing right."