The movie was a family favorite. Watched so many times the kids could probably recite every line by heart. Funny, laced with real life issues and some unimaginable turn of events. Mrs. Doubtfire. I'm sure you've seen it.
Last Friday evening found us in the fields of Lewis Acres. A bull had been located for our fine herd of three and we were there to move, load and haul them to a place where the grass is greener! Grandma and Papa were in. Trevor, in... but sure this was going to take too long. Friday night, ya know. So our plan was to fast track things... make it quick. With the plan in place, we felt like all the bases were covered. That was before the cows decided they really didn't want to leave the field.
The tight knit group of blackness were pretty sure we had something up our sleeves and they certainly remembered the last time they were herded across the road. That entailed shots and such and they knew they wanted to part of it. So the plan was altered, and Trevor entered the field from his "keep them out of Greenview" post to lend a helping hand.
Outmatched, the cows decided their best avenue was the gate and as they headed out to the open road, it was evident that we were a little light on the roadside assistance. The cows headed west. Grandma, wearing her SF Giants orange, was faced with the small herd all coming her way.
It was at that time that the four of us in the field realized that Grandma was hung out to dry with this situation. Trevor, immediately went into protect mode. "Grandma" he hollered. "Make some noise!". He took off in a striding run, leaped the wooden fence as if it was a high school hurdle instead of a chest high obstacle. That's when the movie flashback happened. I couldn't help but chuckle with the "Help is on the Way Dear!" heroic move this loving grandson made to help his Grandma.
The cows did pretty well. They went where they were supposed to go, loaded with incident, peered out the stock trailer with outstretched necks, milled around in the small area and waited. The tires of the trailer were sketchy at best and with Papa's advise that "God will get you there", we took off while shaking our heads and wringing our hands.
All in all, we made it. I'm sure these beautiful bovine were wondering how they were so fortunate to enter a "greener than a gourd" field where the grass was shoulder high in spots. In fine cow fashion, the perimeter of the field was quickly checked and rechecked. Escape routes duly noted.
Back at the ranch, we celebrated a fine evening with Grandma and Papa over a giant pizza and in front of the Giants baseball game feeling accomplished with the evening activities and movement.
Tuesday, May 10, 2016
Famous Last Words
The words, as I went out the door, were "it's not going to rain tonight so enjoy your daughter's game". Once my foot hit the sidewalk in the open air of "after work", I cringed, shook my head ever so gently and thought to myself, "ya, now it's going to rain for sure". With an extra lift in my step, thanks to the coffee that my "fine figure of a man" brought me at 4:10 p.m., I left the office to proceed on with my day.
The drive home surprised me. Emotions of that magnitude don't hit me very often. As the tears spilled over my lower lids, I had a feeling of grief that threatened to over take me. But I've been there before. It's no stranger. Thankfully, my first line of attack is to not panic, not run. Grief has become a friend. A friend I have shaken hands with and have embraced. As I allowed the wave to crash the shore, I had a strong feeling that a layer of grief was being shucked free.
This morning during the wee hours, thoughts of the consistencies in our lives scrolled through my mind like the reel of a movie theatre. So many things stayed constant.
We always ate homegrown beef, had dinner around the table with the family, loved Giants baseball and talked of basketball often, we raised a garden, fished in the summer and hunted bucks in the Fall. We did things we loved and made every attempt to do what we should. We worked, we played, we loved and argued. Power struggles came and went. We moved, settled, and moved again. The boys raised pigs and heifers and warm summer nights were spent caring for, preparing and getting ready for the big county fair. Backyard baseball, harvesting vegetables and walks down the lane were constant. Cousins, aunts and uncles. Grandparents, constant. There were picnics at the "camp" during the summer and winter. Basketball games in the front room. Holidays were festive and the ocean, a family vacation favorite. We were spontaneous and adventurous. There was lots of love in this family of five with a knowledge that we could grow, encompass and enfold special ladies into our constant, loving family.
My thoughts included a wonderment of why this movie played for me on this day. Maybe the upcoming weekend sparked more memories than I could fit into my daily basket. I wonder if it is God's way of reminding me of what it was really like while raising a family, our family. God's gift.
So although there are a lot of days when the constant feeling doesn't feel right and I don't really know as much as I think I do, it's amazing when it God "stirs up by way of reminder" and places hope in the recesses of my memories.
The drive home surprised me. Emotions of that magnitude don't hit me very often. As the tears spilled over my lower lids, I had a feeling of grief that threatened to over take me. But I've been there before. It's no stranger. Thankfully, my first line of attack is to not panic, not run. Grief has become a friend. A friend I have shaken hands with and have embraced. As I allowed the wave to crash the shore, I had a strong feeling that a layer of grief was being shucked free.
This morning during the wee hours, thoughts of the consistencies in our lives scrolled through my mind like the reel of a movie theatre. So many things stayed constant.
We always ate homegrown beef, had dinner around the table with the family, loved Giants baseball and talked of basketball often, we raised a garden, fished in the summer and hunted bucks in the Fall. We did things we loved and made every attempt to do what we should. We worked, we played, we loved and argued. Power struggles came and went. We moved, settled, and moved again. The boys raised pigs and heifers and warm summer nights were spent caring for, preparing and getting ready for the big county fair. Backyard baseball, harvesting vegetables and walks down the lane were constant. Cousins, aunts and uncles. Grandparents, constant. There were picnics at the "camp" during the summer and winter. Basketball games in the front room. Holidays were festive and the ocean, a family vacation favorite. We were spontaneous and adventurous. There was lots of love in this family of five with a knowledge that we could grow, encompass and enfold special ladies into our constant, loving family.
My thoughts included a wonderment of why this movie played for me on this day. Maybe the upcoming weekend sparked more memories than I could fit into my daily basket. I wonder if it is God's way of reminding me of what it was really like while raising a family, our family. God's gift.
So although there are a lot of days when the constant feeling doesn't feel right and I don't really know as much as I think I do, it's amazing when it God "stirs up by way of reminder" and places hope in the recesses of my memories.
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