For The Love Of It

We had a wonderful week away! Loads of swimming, eating, fishing, laughing, splashing, and, well, swimming.

Preston’s Sidekick wants very much to just live at the coast forever and do nothing but fish for the rest of his life.

We came home with a nice haul of Redfish for the freezer and wonderful memories that will be talked about and recounted for a long time.

But just as I predicted, I was home-sick after our first night, and very ready to be home by the 5th!

And what a home-coming we had! Just before we packed up to leave we had a 2 inch down pour of rain, which meant that while we were gone everything with roots went nuts growing. After a total of 6.5 hours of long, child chatter filled, “Are we there yet” question answering, almost loosing our minds stuck in traffic drive home, we turned into a lush, green, bursting with life driveway that opens up to our front pasture and the front of the ranch.

All I could do was sigh.

Home.

The place where my heart lives.

Also true to my words, I went straight out to the barnyard, was welcomed by all the cows who came to say hello and get some scratchings, all the chickens who laid a generous amount of eggs for me that day, and of course, Elvis.

Elvis decided to have a nice little vacation of his own while we were gone. 

My Aunt, who is in her late 60’s, was staying the night at our home during the week. She walked to her house, (which is through the pasture and over the creek), to get a few things. On her way back to our home, Elvis, who evidently got the urge to break free from his yard yet again, came running towards her through the pasture. Normally, this would not be such a great issue, other than the fact that you will smell quite stinky after this encounter, but in this instance, my Aunt had just showered and put on a sweet-smelling lotion. Elvis obviously found this very exotic and irresistible. He ran towards her. Tongue hanging out, free-flowing male goat hormones overflowing, uncontrollable grunts that only a goat in rut can make, unabashedly aimed directly for her. She thought he would stop when she picked up a stick, but no. He was awestruck with her beauty and sucked in by her sweet smell. There was no stopping him from conquering his new love. He ran all out into her and knocked her down in the pasture. Yelling and kicking and screaming, she tried to fight off his hormone infested frenzy, but there was no stopping him and no one to hear her yells.

The end was looking bleak.

But then, owning her names meaning of Bright Protector, came Clara, our Great Pyrenees, galloping in. She ran right for Elvis. Using her mouth, she grabbed him by the leg and hauled him off my Aunt, and then ran him all the way back to his pen.

These are the things you just don’t think about preparing your farm-sitter for when you leave! Thank God she was fine, and in good humor about it by the time I heard the story. Elvis is back in his lovely pasture, Clara is once again the hero, and I have a unique story to share with all of you! It’s never boring!

We’ve spent the weekend catching up on farm chores, mowing weeds, (which also like to grow with the rain), and picking the overflowing garden.

Tonight we had a family pick party. We came in with one melon and about 8 lbs of jalapeno and banana peppers!

While we were picking, Preston found this.

It was laying right on top of the ground, in the garden, just unearthed. We find arrowheads now and then all around our land.

And it just made me remember how many people have loved this place, how many people have called this land home. We are just a blip. Just a little dent in the history that this land attests to.

It made me take a breath and re-pledge to do the best I can to love it, take care of it, not pollute it, treat it with respect and dignity, and let it be the beautiful beckon it deserves to be.

As long as I live here I want it to smile. As many smiling memories we have made on this little spot of dirt, I feel that’s the least I can do.

 “Home On The Range”

Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam
Where the deer and the antelope play
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word
And the skies are not cloudy all dayHome, home on the range
Where the deer and the antelope play
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word
And the skies are not cloudy all day

The red man was pressed from this part of the west
It’s not likely he’ll ever return
To the banks of Red River where seldom if ever
His flickering campfires still burn

Home, home on the range
Where the deer and the antelope play
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word
And the skies are not cloudy all day

How often at night when the heavens are bright
I see the light of those flickering stars
Have I laid there amazed and asked as I gazed
If their glory exceeds that of love

Home, home on the range
Where the deer and the antelope play
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word
And the skies are not cloudy all day

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