We have been blessed with great weather for shipping and pregging. This morning I told myself to get with it and get outside, for once! It’s real easy to just say: “Oh, maybe next time”, but today I put on my big girl boots and bundled up to get some photos!
It wasn’t even that cold.
Which was nice.
They cowboys met in our yard, (yard being the general term for the parking area in and around the shop & barns) Once they were all there, they gathered around the cowboss to get instructions for the morning. Then they headed out by twos and threes, for various corners of the pasture. They got to the fenceline, then turned around and started pushing (moving) cows and calves together and towards the corrals. Some places call it a ’roundup’, I guess, in this area we call it a ‘gather’. We gather cows and ‘push’ them to the corrals. Obviously, we do not physically push them – it’s a term for herding.
I took the silhouette photo from my front porch, no joke.
Here they come – down the hill!
Once they get in the corrals, it’s sorting and weighing. Then loading them onto waiting semi-trucks. Sorting and moving calves down an alley is a great place to get photos – but I’m always afraid I’ll b in the way! So I try to stay pretty low profile. I get really nervous if I feel I am going to be a nuisance.
There’s my man!! He’s my favorite. He is currenty soaking his foot in Epsom salts, because he got stepped on so hard today, that he is limping. I wonder if that is what people think of, when they get starry-eyed about ranching? I doubt it. But still, cowboyin’ is a great life, if you’re tough enough to cowboy up! 😀
“I have learned now that while those who speak about one’s miseries usually hurt, those who keep silence hurt more.” ― C.S. Lewis
“I had no idea!”
“You never said anything!”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know. I can talk, alright. I talk too much, in my opinion. I say exactly what I think and why. I speak too quickly, too harshly, and all at full volume.
When I am hurting, I don’t say much. (when I am hurt – then I often say something, regrettably) But when the pain is heart-wrenching and deep, when I cry myself to sleep from the pain, those hurts are hard to get out. I stuff them. Bury them under a breezy manner and quick smiles.
I bet you do it too. You feel scared. What people will think, or worse, what they will say. That must be where it starts – this fear of showing our hurts. We tried, when we were younger and full of trust. We shared, and they were not gentle with us. So we learned to stuff it. To hide it well. Much too well.
-If you knew that woman sitting next to you in church just experienced a miscarriage, you would stop judging her for missing 3 Sundays in a row. You might even hug her.
-if you knew that man ahead of you in the checkout line was still in shock over his wife leaving him – you would stop despising his unkempt appearance. You might even pray for him.
-If you knew that awkward girl was trying to recover from sexual abuse, you would stop telling people how ‘pathetic’ she is. You might even take her out for a meal.
-If you knew that person in the car ahead of you was crying from the pain of losing his child, you would not yell at him for driving so slowly. You might even cry too.
No, we do not judge and despise people when they are going through deep hurts. We sympathize. We are understanding and patient. The problem comes when we don’t know. We assume they are on the same busy path through life that we are following. We only see the tip of the iceberg, and like the Titanic – we don’t see the gigantic pain just under the surface.
See, most people don’t purposely add hurt to hurt. (some do, I’m not talking of those wretched people) Mostly, we try to sympathize and help each other. But still, we don’t share. It’s too private. The hurt is too raw, and besides, how and when and why do you even share how it feels to cry yourself to sleep over a pain that is 10 years old? 20 years old? Isn’t there a statute of limitations on how long you’re allowed to grieve? Aren’t you supposed to ‘heal’ from childhood abuse, and get over it? “She wasn’t good enough for you anyways! Better fish in the sea!”
No, my friend.
To you who are sad. Hurt. Grieving. It’s OK. Be happy if you can, grieve when you need to, feel the hurt when it comes. If you can find 1 or 2 strong and true friends who can handle your pain – that is ideal. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through some of my deep sorrows in life, were it not for my faithful few friends. Although, there comes a point when only God can comfort you. Only He knows your heart without words. He understands! Don’t hesitate to run to Him with your pain.
To you who are not in a season of sorrow or loss; be aware. Don’t be too quick to judge someone, especially someone you are not very close to. They likely haven’t told you that their job is unbearable, or their health is poor, or their favorite uncle just died. Be sensitive to everyone. Assume that there is more to their story than they’re telling you. Be merciful.
My one sister had a birthday, another is headed to a foreign mission, so my sisters and I all gathered for a few days together in Pennsylvania. It was good to reconnect in person. Facebook and texting have their place – but there is nothing quite like face to face and heart to heart.
Also – sis has a massage chair.
Unlike me – a person who has no decorating sense – sis has a lovely home and tastefully decorated rooms. Check out her porch! I just want her to fix up my home.
I ate fresh tomatoes out of her garden – even a few late raspberries! I am a bit crazy about fresh veggies, after living in the barren West for 10 years. I mean, between the short season and critters around here, it’s pretty hard for me to grow a decent tomato. So I enjoyed her garden, even if it was at the tail-end of the season.
We drove to the Flight 93 crash site, which was sobering. I can’t help but think about the spouses, kids, parents, siblings, friends – all saddened by the passing of loved ones. Leaving politics and theories out of the picture, it is a heart-breaking memory.
Then we drove to Ohiopyle State park. Yep, that’s a real name, folks. It took me awhile to figure it out, haha! It had two falls, one low and wide, and one high and narrow. Bothe were pretty. It was rainy and misty and cloudy – but I loved it. I wanted to sit by the falls and drink in the mossy, woodsy air for a long time… but then it started raining.
We took the ATV through the hills and hollers, i walked in the rain-damp woods and picked up acors for my western-raised kids who’ve rarely seen them, we stayed up much too late every night, talking. We ate pumpkin dessert with ice cream, drank gallons of fresh cider, laughed and yawned and discussed potty-training and teenagers. Oh, it was great! I can’t wait till next time.