My husband grew up in the country, and as such, he isn't very sentimental about our animals. To him, they serve a purpose. Dogs are for guarding the property, and alerting us to anyone coming in the long laneway, and for an overall sense of security in this somewhat remote place. And also to keep the coyotes away from the horses. Cats are for rodent control, and other than that, he doesn't really feel they have a purpose. He does enjoy the horses, but doesn't really spend that much time grooming and fussing over them.
He doesn't talk 'baby talk' to the dogs, doesn't kiss the kitty and carry her around while rubbing her belly, doesn't coo to the horses and tell them how sweet they are. That's what I do. He does do one thing, though, which gives away his soft heart.
He is our resident bird and small animal rescuer. Ma nature is often cruel, and out here there seems to be a steady supply of birds pushed out of nests, and little creatures (mostly bunnies) separated from their mothers (usually because the dogs have nabbed them and carried them away).
My approach is to carry the animal to safety and then let nature take its course. The animals usually don't make it, and our success rate in the past has been something like 1%. My husband, however, always takes action, which usually involves intervention in the form of food, water, some sort of cardboard box, towels, and internet research to make sure he's done everything he can (with the enthusiastic assistance of the kids). He once built a splint for a baby blue jay out of a popsicle stick. He then called animal control to come and fetch the bird from a town one half-hour away. I still tease him about it.
Here's his latest rescue. This birdie made it-I hope it has a long and happy life.
I know this looks like all of my other 'field' pictures, but actually, it's taken from the end of the back field, looking towards the house. You know, sometimes it's good to look at things from the other side, to take the long view, get a different perspective...It seems that today is cliche day at H&H....hey, a girl's gotta enjoy her field while she can. Have a great wednesday :)
The farmers who lease our land (or the FWLOL) have harvested the grain from the back field. I don't know what kind it was- not wheat, we had that last year. I'm hoping that this time they do not plow up the field before winter. It's so great to have that flat espanse, it feels just like an extension of our lawn.
Just think, we'll be able to go dirt biking (or trail biking even), ride our horses, maybe even let our dusty old cross-country skis see the light of day. Or we could just run out really far, and twirl around while looking up at the sky (you know, Julie Andrews-style -like in The Sound of Music)...OR we could get a sleigh and hitch Sadie up to it, and give people rides in the snow while they cozy up under a fur throw (note to self-check craigslist for sleighs and fur throws).
OK, getting a little carried away, but it feels like we've reclaimed the back field for our own use (at least for a while, hopefully longer).
Have a wonderful mellow weekend-I must go, I have the sudden urge to run out in the field, while twirling around with my hands up in the air a la Julie Andrews... before the FWLOL's get to thinking about plowing up this lovely flat field....where did I put that skirt and apron?! :)
I know we're very lucky to have a pool at our place. It's a 'country' pool, though, and plainer and humbler than its sparkling chlorine-redolent city cousins. This is the time of year when we wage a losing battle against the leaves, and it becomes time to close it up for the season.
For some reason, I was in charge of its upkeep this rainy summer, and I can't say I was particularly brilliant at it. I don't think trying to wrestle it away from mysterious cloudy states with various strange chemicals and growing championship amounts of algae would qualify me as a decent pool caretaker. I have, however, become an expert at rescuing frogs and toads, and the odd rodent (some were beyond rescue). And hey, did you know that teeny baby field mice can swim? well they can.
There have been summers where you would have been able to find us swimming and frolicking at all times of the day. But in this summer of rain (and algae) it was mostly for the frogs.
With the yellow leaves fluttering down, we rush around gathering new shoes, backpacks, supplies, haircuts, hopes. We note with amazement and pride how tall they have grown. Time for one last swim, long bike ride, ice cream cone. It helps, you know, to keep those fluttery back-to-school butterflies calm in the belly. Bittersweet back-to-school time. So long summer, hello fresh start. Everyone's getting straight A's this year, right? :) !!
I am a country-dwelling mom of three. My family and I live in an old farmhouse in the kind-of-boonies, with three horses, two dogs and two cats. Join me for hijinks! thrills! and laffs! (o.k., not really-but how about some daily ruminations on this, that, and the other thing. Horses some of the time, nonsense almost always).