I left the dairy: old news.
I started working at an equine hospital: old news.
I left the equine-only world and started working for my veterinarian, Dr. Kirksy: new news!
Yes, that's is where I am now..er..where I have been this past week and hope to remain:).
I kicked off the week by breeding 75 beef cows, and during the course of the week I assisted his equine vet, IV'd some cows, pulled a rowdy calf, and ended up working 150 steers by myself on Friday.
(That took me about 6 hours...and it was awesome:).)
I feel like I have found my spot, all nestled in between the cows and Dr. K's need for a little help.
It was during the haul home Friday evening, after working at the stockyard, that I really felt like I had carved out my spot. I was talking to Dr. K and at the end of the conversation I asked what he needed me to do on Saturday, and his response was this; "Nothing. If you haven't ever felt appreciated I can tell you right now that you are. Have a good weekend and we will hit it hard on Monday".
The truth is I hadn't and until then didn't realize how much I needed to hear that.
Yesterday I was able to wake up, do a little baking, take Caden to basketball (during which I went to a "parents meeting"!!!!!!), and play with my dogs some. Can I tell you how cool that was???
Loved it. Loved sitting in the bleachers watching him play, beside Saigon, and telling people #4 was my stepson. Loved it. Rejoice in the small pleasures, always.
I have been overwhelmed with blessings this past week. My heart swells with appreciation for them and at the same time breaks for those lives in Connecticut.
My very dear friend Jen, made a good point and said, "I have never heard of a farm kid losing it". While this statement isn't a researched fact, I believe there to be a lot of truth in it. I think, being a farm kid, there is a lot of truth in the danger of "idle hands", but that's just me. We will never know why, and really if we did it wouldn't make us any safer.
Malinda said, "Something has got to change" and she is so right.
"A sound is heard in Ramah, a sound of crying in bitter grief.
It is the sound of Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted because her children are gone."
Though it's easy to think He doesn't always care, God weeps too.
My stepson is 11 and my nephew is a (almost) a rowdy 2, and they absolutely hung the moon as far as I am concerned.
I believe in God and His love, and that's enough. It has to be.
A hug, a squeeze and whole lotta love,