Happiness at the Waters Edge

Being at the creek always gives me a sense of peace

We took the dogs to check on the calves yesterday, since Mike finished the field prep early. He saved a lot of time with Earl helping. I was amazed, seeing them in the field, how big they are getting. Even Sam is looking more like a full-sized bull, finally. They were contentedly munching grass on the hillside near their shed, and not lying in its shade, which was surprising given the heat. The dogs were too hot since the air conditioning in the truck was not working, and neither paid any attention to the cattle. I missed Ed’s “what is that?” bark.

Mike knew they were hot too. Maybe it was Ed reaching over the back seat to pant hot air in his ear as he drove. Or maybe it was the long slurping dog tongue across the back of his neck that clued him in, but he headed for the far creek instead of the dogs’ favorite barn. From the recent flooding, the creek terrain had changed a little.  Now, where it deposited silt, there is a nice, almost beachlike, entry at the ford, although with mud instead of sand or the usual rocks that used to lead to the waters edge. We let them out of the truck thinking they would like a drink.

Fritz slowly and careful made his way to the creek and stood with his feet just in the water to lap it up; Ed bounded from the car into the water and was halfway across the creek in a flash. With a big goofy grin he ducked down into the water  to his chin a few times, then turned towards Fritz, who decided the creek felt mighty  good on a hot day and was enjoying a  leasurely swim where his feet did not touch bottom.  Ed suddenly lunged towards the little guy and in three hops was upon him! The two tossled a bit nipping at each other’s paws, chasing up the bank and back down into the water, and curiously sniffing at roots and other curiousities near the water. Then, back into the water they went for more fun. When clumsy Ed playfully slapped a huge paw down on the head of the little swimming dog, it was time to go!

When we got the two wet, stinky dogs back into the truck, Fritz waited patiently on the console between the front seats (his favorite place to ride) until Mike got in and shut the door. Once Mike was in, he shook hard as he could, hitting both Mike and I with a fountain of water droplets. Uh, thanks, Fritz! By the time we got back to the house, I think all four of us were smiling and smelling like dirty wet dogs. Ah, but it is the simple pleasures that make life worthwhile, right?

I keep reminding myself of that. This weekend was hard for me. It was the anniversary of both my grandfather and my father’s deaths, it was a three-day weekend (I remember those), and it was the first inkling that summer is finally here. I read where Facebook friends were in England, or Canada, or visiting Philadelphia. I read about great restaurants and parks being visited. I read about barbeques and picnics with family. Yet here I was, stuck alone on a farm doing housework and mowing while my man worked the fields. I was bored, lonely, overly emotional, and very jealous of my FB friends who actually have lives. The silliness of the dogs reminded me to take joy where I find it, even in the briefest moments– and even if at the edge of a creek bank.

We’re going fishing this week.

About cattlebaroness

I am a graduate of the University of Kentucky with a BA in History, nearing completion of a Master of Arts in American history. Born and raised first on military bases around the world, then in Orange County, CA, I moved to Kentucky when my children were small. I now live on a small family farm and am learning about farm life, planting and our newest addition to the landscape--cattle. Until a month or two ago, all I knew about 'cows' were that they came in brown, black and white and that some are raised for milk and others for meat. I am a quick study out of necessity.
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2 Responses to Happiness at the Waters Edge

  1. jennyg82 says:

    I can relate to feeling a bit life-lacking. I feel the same way every time I step in a pile of piggy plop in my Crocs (ah, the joys of shoes with holes!), or have to drive miles to get anywhere and then realizing that anywhere more often than not is the library. I’m kinda loving it though 🙂 I hope you have a wonderful fishing trip!

  2. Much as we love life in the country, sometimes it is still hard to be out of a city environment. Wouldn’t trade it though!
    I hear you about the piggy plop. I’m still hopscotching the cow poop and need to purchase a pair of muck boots. 🙂

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