A Season on the Farm, September

There should be laughter after pain
There should be sunshine after rain
These things have always been the same
So why worry now

Dire Straits – Why Worry

The rains of August began to subside in September.  The gray clouds that had paced my mind for the last days gave way to hope.  While there was not “Happy Happy Happy” as Phil Robertson would say, there was hope.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For our farming and homesteading adventure, we have always shared a hope that each weed pulled, each long afternoon of sweat putting seedlings in the ground, and each night of worrying about temperatures going below freezing would bring us closer to a more self reliant lifestyle.

Both the Farmers Wife and I share an abiding faith that precludes us from thinking that we will ever be self reliant, we know that we will always be reliant on a more capable provider who multiplies our feeble efforts.  This homesteading lifestyle though has caused us to focus on those things which are more lasting, and more important.  Chiefly, that we share those joys that we have been blessed with to those we meet on this journey.

 

A hail mary of sunflowers (I planted all we had in stock), planted days before the first surgery.  The first blossoms are Sunrich Gold sunflowers

 

So when I look to September and recall those glimmers of hope, I am overjoyed in a vindication that we continue on our journey, bruised a little, but stronger for the path.  In fact the month of September ended with a new surgery being scheduled to reinforce the work done in the first surgery.  The patch applied on my hernia had held, but the hernia was larger than believed and the fix was to go back in to add more mesh, this operation though would be an incision, which would be a longer recovery.  This meant more time watching time go by.

 

 

 

 

 

An early morning fishing trip with Dad

 

 

Trying to put my finger on what changed, where the clouds went to, I keep coming back to time spent with those that I love.  To see their concern, to hear their plans, and to see their efforts to keep the farm going, all the while never complaining was humbling, and doubled my resolve to bring our dream to reality.

 

 

 

 

 

The new old farm truck.  A legacy from parents. 

 

One of the Farmers Wife and my guilty pleasures these last months has been watching old episodes of the Waltons.  We dutifully sat through all 9 seasons of the show, watching John Boy transform to a different actor, and Olivia going off to a sanitorium, but more importantly watching seven kids grow into beautiful and responsible adults.  We were always strengthened by the shows decency and commitment to hope.  In the last minutes of the last episode, the Baldwin Sisters (they of the famous recipe) shared this short speech, which I think admirably sums up not only the show, but also where our true priorities should lie.

 

Miss Mamie: My sister and I had planned this party as a celebration, – of the precious time that we have here on this earth.

Miss Emily: A tribute to all the beautiful things that make up our lives.

Miss Mamie: We have not been so much participants in life as observers, and we feel most fortunate to have lived in this special place, and time.

Miss Emily: Most especially do we treasure our friends, and memories.

Miss Mamie: It seems to us there are many memorable events – the turning of the seasons, the vibrancy of Spring –

Miss Emily: – and life renews itself with daffodils and crocuses blooming along a walkway; dogwood, redbud –

Miss Mamie: – and the indulgence of Summer, and the coming of Autumn –

Miss Emily: – and the incredible beauty of a shower of golden leaves.

Miss Mamie: Having someone to love –

Miss Emily: – and someone who loves you in return.

Miss Mamie: And kisses are important –

Miss Emily: – most especially are kisses to be remembered.

Miss Mamie: We’re here for such a brief time, but if we can make some sense out of life, and look at it with wonder and amazement, and leave some record of it behind for those who follow us, then we have made a contribution –

Miss Emily: – and it has all been worthwhile.