Indian Summer: a Christmas Letter

The calendar tells me it is indeed December, even though my brain cannot comprehend how fast the year has gone. We are content with the warmish temperatures lately – highs in the 40s – in our corner of Michigan. It’s like an Indian summer around here, finally. By the way, I discovered Indian summer has two meanings:

  1. a period of unusually dry, warm weather occurring in late autumn.
  2. a period of happiness or success occurring late in life.

As I write this we are mere minutes away from waving good-bye to autumn and welcoming (with mostly open arms) the official start of winter. The second definition of Indian summer reminds me that periods of happiness and success are something to be cherished. The trick is what we do with those moments in between.

We are having a lot of fun living this farm adventure. I’ve taken to sharing pictures of our animals on social media because they’re funny creatures – all of them. There’s a lot we can learn from watching animal behavior, whether in nature or in our back yards. The way they interact with each other and with us can be comical and it can be frightening too.

That ‘pecking order’ thing – it’s real, and not just with chickens. Rusty, the cat, is in charge of the other cats. Dixie, (our Black Beauty) is the boss of Zima. Lily, the lamb, is mostly in charge of her three siblings. While Rika, the wonder dog, is the boss of all the animals except the young rooster (who is currently undergoing ‘training’ to become a gentlemen, or else). It’s fascinating how they figure out their place in the flock or herd and they never worry about tomorrow. Animals know how to live in the moment.

To the casual observer it may appear to be complete peace on earth over here, but we know better – there is conflict and chaos all around us. You probably know what I mean.

Caring for livestock brings us silly moments of happiness and occasional feelings of success. I’ll take it.  When all are fed and watered, we do feel successful. But a kink in the hose or an unexpected rooster attack can ruin the day if we let it. Which means we must grab hold of, and be thankful for, all those little Indian summer moments. Those moments in between though, we should really practice a little gratitude for them too. Without them we might take for granted the lovely Indian summer moments.

It’s nice when the grandkids visit because they all want to help with chores. Although Owen is 12 and more interested in driving the Kawasaki Mule than gathering eggs. Olivia is 9 and leaps, pirouettes, and splits her way from point A to point B. Morgan is also 9 and does back-bends, and flip-overs across the yard, while dribbling a basketball. Ella is 6 and is happy as can be to kick a soccer ball everywhere she goes. And Charlotte is 2 and . . . well, she tries ALL the above with gusto (except for the driving part, of course).

Come to think of it they don’t really help that much with chores on their visits, but those visits are definitely part of our Indian summer moments.

May all your moments be filled with love and joy and gratitude.

Chicks and Lambs Live in Denial – So Should We

Blossom the Lamb

If the leader of the free world keeps repeating, “The enemy of the people is the media,” the goal can only be one thing — to convince the people to believe all news is fake news and believe only what he says. Unless of course the media reports flattering news about him, then it’s right on. But here’s the thing:Chicks Pix

The Chicks Don’t Care

We all know he lies blatantly and chronically, sometimes about the most ridiculous things. His form of ‘negotiating’ is to bully and create conspiracy theories about his ‘enemies.’ An enemy equates to anyone who disagrees with him or those who refuse to be bullied, or those who investigate and report facts. These facts can be something he said on camera or tweeted. The most dangerous thing about his lying is it feels normal and acceptable. We read reports that have tried to track the number of his lies and we aren’t surprised, because we all know he lies, but the chicks don’t care. Continue reading