The Mia sized version of the Boudreaux sized blog. This is mostly a BACK UP BLOG and a smaller version for smaller screens if the main blog is too hard to navigate. For complete posts, giveaways, corrected grammar and punctuation, the "rest of the story" and any additional posts that might not make it over here for some reason, please check the BOUDREAUX SIZED BLOG :-).

If at all possible, please use the main blog.


Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Such A Fine Memory


The other night, one of the first of (now many) super cold nights, I bundled up, pulled on my tall boots and headed to the barn for a late night check.  The snow had stopped and the winds calmed.  A few stars winked above and the only sound, the shoosh, crunch, shoosh crunch of my boots through the snow.

Everyone was fine, and I could have just returned to the house, but I stayed.  I set out some extra hay and walked over to stand with Hank.  Some sheep came out for the hay, some came over to visit with me, curious as to why I was there in the middle of the night.  I could have should have stayed forever. A fine memory.

As I turned to go, I saw a truck pull into Stella's driveway.  The snow was deep, but no match for a good four wheel drive.  The driver crept up the long hill, past her house, disappearing around the bend.  It was 11:30, but no reason for concern.  I knew the truck well.  It was the neighbor leasing her farm, headed back to check his cattle.

He is a good farmer.   I see him every morning.  We feed at nearly the same time every day.   As I'm setting out hay for the horses, he's rumbling up the hill in his tractor with a load of silage for his cows (or back down empty depending on how many emails I answered before walking out the door ;-).  He's too far away to see such a greeting, but I give him a nod.   

I like seeing him.  I like the sense of community, the feeling that I am keeping up.  Hoping maybe he looks down the hill and thinks I, too, am a good farmer.  Not everyone makes those late night treks.  I don't always and neither does he.  It meant something special to me on that crystal clear cold night, while the rest of the neighborhood slept, a good farmer was still out.  And I was there, too.   

Such a fine memory.


1 comment:

Terry and Linda said...

Oh! I was afraid something had happened to Stella! I'm glad she is okay!

Linda ♪♫❤
http://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com
https://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com/sherlock-boomer