Mom, when we went to Disney last year we went on a thrilling ride that had Russ feeling scared. There were characters on the 3D screen that were part of it, he kept saying one looked like me. In the midst of the ride I asked, “why do you say she looks like me?” (She was 8 feet tall, skinny, blue) He said, “because if I think its you I can be brave.” I was IMMENSELY touched by this comment. THAT is the person I want to be, someone who helps others be their best self. We bought these matching bracelets to remember that moment/insight. These corral pictures illustrate moments Russ has helped me be brave. Many times in this journey with your aging body you have had to be brave. Where did you find the bravery you needed? I think the confidence in me that you and Dad showed has helped me be brave. I just re-read your Psalm, v 3 says “though an army….my heart shall not fear, though war…..yet I will be confident”
Re: Psalm 27:3 -May that be so
This postcard series is based on a series of photographs taken by Liz Griffin as she documented our work on our ranch. I used them as postcards to send messages to my Mom as she travelled her final days of a journey with cancer.
A friend of mine is struggling to make a decision with a pretty time sensitive matter relating to health. This has got me thinking about a story of my own that has similarities. My story involves Russell, so before I got writing this, (I was away for a few days in June when I started this) I sent him a text asking his permission to share the story. He answered with these words “I think if more people shared their stories and wisdom the world would be a better place. The story kinda makes me look like a bad husband but it is the truth. It is what it is. I know I’m not perfect and I don’t think I really would want to come across to any one as perfect. The best I have ever done is just try hard every day. So Definitely yes.”
This is not a dramatic story really, its mostly about how seven words affected my life in a very tangible way. The events began when I was creeping towards 40 years of age and living in the midst of a situation that could be described as a difficult treadmill or a place of abundant blessing and both would be true. I had a 5 year old, a three year old and a baby. My days were filled with the fun and the fervor of preschool life and my husband was not available much. The ranch work was unrelenting (if you are a reader from the city you might not realize that what I mean is there is no such thing as a weekend or a 5 o’clock bell, you work while the sun shines and often longer.) Russ was not in the position to call the shots and shape things in a way that allowed more family time. I was at my load max regarding family life. Thats the difficult treadmill part. At the same time I was living my dream. This is what I doodled about on my notes in Miss Rodgers grade 10 social studies class. I wanted to be a Mom, as Miss Rodgers did her best to get me into world history I remember doodling my future kids’ names, one of them would be Anna I hoped. Gina is not far off as names go. Not only did I have my kids, I had healthy kids and we were able to make it work for me to be mostly home with them. Not only did I have my kids but we got pregnant very easily and with the exception of one miscarriage (a traumatizing one I will admit), carrying them was easy and birth was straightforward (as straightforward as XL babies can allow!) We were abundantly blessed. Herein lay the problem though, it was easy for us to do this, but I knew, deep in my soul, that I needed to be done. There is alot of I and my in that last sentence. The miracle of creating life is pretty intoxicating and it is hard to say, “thats enough”, I think I needed to be done but Russ was not sure. However he respected where I was at and so the conversation began about how to prevent anymore babies. I wanted a solution that left no room for wondering and worrying, giving up sex was not an option, talk of a vasectomy was next. This is the part that makes Russell look bad. In a nutshell, (no joke intended, really, I just wrote that and then realized it was quite descriptive…….) So, in a nutshell, Russ talked it over with several people and tried to convince himself that he could do this, and he couldn’t. He just couldn’t find his way clear to take the steps to make it happen. Was I frustrated by this? Yes, but it is what it is. I made an appointment to talk to my doctor. I was embarrassed to bring up our predicament, I knew it made Russ look bad and made me look like a woman not standing up for herself. However, I am an intensely practical person and so I was prepared to have the procedure to end my fertility. I am also a feminist, in a soft, kind’ve meek version of that word, but I am. It seemed to me that my giving in and subjecting my body to another thing, when it should have been the man’s turn, was something my feminist peers would tell me was unfortunate and that I had let myself down by not fighting harder. Here is where Dr. Naidu did me a great favor. I told her what was going on. She looked at me and she said this, “you have to take care of yourself.” Seven words. They were seven words that accomplished a total reframing of the predicament. The frame I had constructed around this problem was “if I am the one to give in and go for the surgery I lose.” Her seven words reframed it in my mind like this, “your job is to make a decision that takes care of your future, your needs, your dreams, you are the boss of you, do what you need.” My life experiences up til that point meant I had zero concerns about having procedures done. It was an extremely easy decision for me to make when framed in the way that Dr. Naidu constructed. I had the procedure, all went well for me and the next chapter of our life opened up. Russell did not take my flexibility lightly, he was appreciative and showed it.
I believe this was taken at my 40th birthday party, not too long after all the deliberating had taken place.
Do the words “you have to take care of yourself” touch your story today? My friend is working on the question, “should I get the Covid vaccine?” I sense there are many, many variables that are swirling around as that decision gets tossed back and forth. One thing is for certain, the decision to get vaccinated is not a private issue like Russ and I were going through. People out and about ask if you have had it and pass a certain amount of judgment based on the answer they want to hear. In addition there is a need to provide proof in order to get on planes and cruises and cross borders. The decision has very public implications. The forces that push one way or the other are varied, can be intense and could be quite personal. It strikes me that Dr. Naidu’s words to me need to be applied to this situation so that something very important can be honored. That very important thing is, the human person making this decision. Putting aside all the push and pull, all the argument and counter-argument, all the shoulds, coulds and maybes, what are the dreams and hopes of the person? I see this as having some real parallels to my story above. Russell should have stepped up and got it done. I had spent 32 months of my life hosting our children within my womb, couldn’t he have just done the right thing? In a perfect world, yes. And in a perfect world no one should have to get an injection that they do not fully understand or trust. No-one has to get that vaccination but in order to live life as much as normal for the next while, you must have it. As likely as an unwanted pregnancy for us was, without precautions, it is pretty clear that Covid can move in and wreak havoc on individuals and health care systems, we have to find the most effective way to preserve our communal hopes and dreams for the long haul. So thinking about my friend, what I want to say first of all is, “thank you for listening to my story” and I also want to say what Dr. Naidu said to me, “you have to take care of yourself.” Only you know the subtleties of all that stirs within, only you and your doctor know best what your health dictates. If you trust your doctor listen to him/her and to your hopes and dreams. Put aside what all the competing voices are saying and do what you need to do to take care of yourself.
To those readers who are fully convinced that I should be urging my friend, pushing for vaccination, I have to say that I really believe in the power of listening. I would rather listen to hear what is going back and forth for my friend than be pushy about my perspective and silence the voice that is honestly struggling already. The listening process is well suited to helping people discern what is right for them.
To those readers who hang firmly to the information they have that makes this vaccine a very poor choice, not in the service of hopes and dreams but other darker things altogether I can’t get on board with that. But I will listen. I see the way that case rates are falling and the overwhelming majority of physicians and scientists who endorse it and I sit with that. If you can’t I think thats okay. As long as enough of us can find our way clear to be vaccinated, and I think we are, we can keep those case numbers falling and find our normal.
A few more pictures to illumine the story that has been told…….
With two kids my hands were full but it looks like I was loving it even if they weren’t at the time!Russell has quite a tolerance for having his hands full. Jill’s first day of kindergarten. Can you see why it was hard to quit? What a trio of spice and spark. I miss the days of sippy cups!There is a lot of our kids’ personalities in this picture.
It has been a full month pretty much since The Broken Bread Bakery came to life. It really occupied my thoughts alot in the first part of the month, lately we have been pretty extra stressed on the ranch and I have just slipped it in as I could. Still, it was a fantastic month. The summary stats for July are as follows…………..
Buns delivered = 23.5 dozen (282 buns)
Donations received for “The Healing Fund” = $645.00
Pounds of donated flour = 140!
I feel great about this and thankful for the support of many people.
A Summary: It has been an inspiring month. As I have baked alongside other people I have listened to stories and heard the resolutions that people are making to stop negative cycles and patterns, to learn more, to have courage, hoping for a better future together with Aboriginal Canadians. That is quite something. I have made new friends and enjoyed old ones.
Favorite quirky moment of the month: happened when I texted one of my oldest friends in the world, in the middle of a work day in Los Angeles and asked him, “hey, do you wanna bake buns this afternoon?” On the off chance he was free to chat I thought I could pop in my earbuds and work on buns while talking over things. It didn’t happen that day but it will yet. It was fun to send a goofy sounding text.
Bonus Developments: There have been moments of connecting as messages have been sent back and forth to arrange for deliveries. Many of those deliveries have meant some face to face contact, still a bit of a novelty after a year with Covid.
Unexpected spin-off activity: My sister is very moved by the thought and intention with this bakery project. She asked if I would mind if she started a branch in Saskatoon. I am happy about this. Margie’s specialty is cinnamon buns and her life puts her in contact with a variety of people who could use a bit of encouragement, nourishment and care. Her branch of the Broken Bread Bakery operates by gifting baking to people she is wanting to support versus fundraising. She created a beautiful tag which she attached to a gift of baking she brought here. It now hangs on our Christmas tree. (We keep ours up year-round.)
Extra Reward: the chance to share the art of baking buns with a few people that wanted to learn more. I also was taught how to make bannock in the midst of things. Sharing the traditions that shape us is no small thing, it felt like a true gift to be taught about and enjoy fresh bannock. ( One small note……Although my Grandma K was known for her buns I was never taught to make buns at home. What I know now is a result of practice and trial and error in recent years and a few crucial tips from our local bun master, Cathy Finkle.)
A Serious and Lingering Dilemma: I am having trouble putting my thoughts to this but just how exactly do I/we honor the children for whom these buns are baked in remembrance of? There is to be one bun for every child treated as forgettable. How does one begin to capture the utter sacredness and solemnity of this? There were remains found of 215 children at the site of the Kamloops School. This means that I have now baked and delivered a bun for each of those children at Kamloops, the first discovered site. I should create a prayer ritual. But, I am tired, lacking deep thoughts, worried about so much and right now, it just feels like doing my best means doing the baking with its details. This week I got thinking about that part in the Bible where it says that the spirit intercedes for us when our sighs are too deep for words. At this time I have to lean on that, trusting that the spirit is at work through the rising I have been part of, the sharing, the reflecting and the generosity poured out by many.
We have been so immersed in haying with multiple challenges that I have been out of touch with much of the news. I have heard a bit that there are more remains being found. This project, baking one bun for each child is clearly going to be long term. Moving on to month two.
Our Family Canada Day picture, edited to reflect the support of the family for this bakery. (They see alot of buns head out the door.)
Its been hot in Saskatchewan for days and days uninterrupted. This made me think its a good time to get back to the postcard series, knowing the next image is a January one. This is a Liz Griffin Photography capture of a day when we were moving cows to standing corn and the air was crisp. Remember what that felt like? This was January 2020, before so many things changed. The image is quite striking when seen across a screen, in the format here the wide angle aspect of it makes it display small, so for the blog, in addition to the original I did some cropping to allow a better view of the people in the picture, to get a better sense of it.
If you are a new reader you might not know of this postcard series. Its a result of a photographer documenting our life for a year. I used some of her images to communicate some matters of the heart when my Mom was sick in the fall of 2020. This one is brief, its about being counted on.
Oct 15, 5:20am
Gina is really proud of this picture. It is cool. There she is at the head of the herd coming up the slope just west of our place. She is in dialogue with Jim Lee, a retired man who sold us haying equipment in recent years. Those are his grand-daughters to Gina’s left. Days like this one have been major confidence boosters for the kids. Gina had an expectation of herself, that her Dad could count on her. With cell phones they would confer, she provided leadership. She achieved her goal. She is missing the experience this year. Thank-you for ALWAYS being someone that I and my family could count on. We feel it deep. ❤ K
Do you wanna hear just a little something random about life on the ranch? We are bottle feeding a calf again. In a way its no big deal, many calves all over this country get a bottle fed start. This calf is kind’ve special to me though. You see this calf was a twin, born last week to our cow named Sofi.
Sofi’s birth announcement. Russ knew that word about Sofi would be special to me.
Sofi didn’t embrace the challenge of raising two calves herself and left one for us to raise. This is quite common with calf twins. When we began to suspect this was the case Russ sent Morgan to saddle up and tour the pasture looking for the 2nd calf, who was not with Sofi. He found it, roped it, stood over it with his horse and called Jill to come pick it up. Jill and Morg loaded it into the jeep and Jill started home, enroute she noticed that the calf had super perky ears which meant that it had a Batman silhouette. Jill sent a message to the family chat, “I think we should call it Batman” and included a picture of those perky ears. I could see Jill’s point but I had already been considering a name and had a different idea.
When you spend regular time with a creature making sure they have a name is quite important. We talk to and about our bottle fed calves multiple times a day and we get alot of affection going for them so having a name for them just seems natural. On any given day in June you heard these words at our ranch “whose turn is it to feed Bob?” “how did Bob do with his bottle?” “man Bob is a bottle hog, he just guzzles it down”, “good morning Bob, how was your night” “do you like my singing Bob?” A name is essential and we like our calves names to reflect some part of their reality. Bob, our previous bottle fed calf got his name from a Canadian folk song. The song is about the experiences of Jesus’ unknown brother Bob. The cow who birthed Bob was named Mary, she had twins and took well to one and not the other. We figured Mary the cow would keep “Jesus” and the forgotten calf would therefore be Bob. Its a comical song by “The Arrogant Worms,” you can look it up on Youtube. Anyways, we take some care to find the right name for the calves we tend closely. So I answered Jill’s message to the family chat, “I see why, but I am wondering about Boo-boo.”
I got my way. The family actually all quite liked that name.
But why Boo-boo? Well, exactly 30 years ago this month I had this huge adventure with friends named Sofi and Andrew. We were assigned to go ahead of our Up With People cast, get on a plane in Toledo, transfer in Chicago, fly to Stockholm and then make our way to an island between Sweden and Finland called Aland. We would settle in there and do all the advance work for the arrival of the cast four weeks later. I had never left North America or been immersed in a language other than french. It was quite an amazing time where at the age of 23 I started to feel quite grown up. Our team worked hard and got the job done, but of course there was lots of learnings. One really important learning that I had came from working with Andrew.
Andrew hard at work.
He was a super energetic and charismatic person who didn’t do things the same way as I did. Is there a Canadian way of doing presentations and connecting with people? I am not sure. There was a Kathy way at the time. Andrew had a different way. I remember struggling with it, thinking it was not “correct”. The beauty of a four week term of close collaboration and teamwork with a clear end goal is that we got to see the outcomes of our varied efforts. Quite clearly I had been wrong. Over the weeks I watched Andrew weave his magic. I came away with a super important learning, that there are many different ways to be, that we are all gifted in ways that we must honor, that the world is better when we don’t all fit into a mold. That feels like common sense now, something we see on social media memes and nod in agreement with. I think the urgency of that is different though when something pretty big is at stake. For us in 1991 it was can we build a network here? Can we sell these tickets? Can we find homes for 110 cast members? Can we create a meaningful schedule for this cast visit? It was a challenge to let go and let be, to trust that our diverse ways would lead to greater success. They did.
Andrew, Sofi and I featured in a newspaper article about our work and the upcoming visit of Up With People.Sofi, myself, our sponsors and Andrew after the casts final performance.
What I learned in such a vivid way was really important.
I got thinking about this learning in these last days. I have been hanging pretty close with Boo-boo the calf. It was my job to fight the good fight and get him adjusted to bottle feeding.
Here I was celebrating getting a full bottle in on our first episode of feeding together.
This time in Boo-boo’s presence has given me time to think about so many unfolding things. I found myself wondering if my days and weeks with Sofi and Andrew planted the seeds that allowed me to go on and committ my life to Russell. How is it that I found my way clear to marry someone who forges his own path, fits no molds and has gifts that I never thought I was looking for? I see a connection, not a direct line but a solid line between this vivid learning of 1991 and what I would say “I do” to in 2000. It makes me realize how fruitful it is to let ourselves get outside our comfort zone, be challenged and receive the blessings within those times. That makes me wonder about what kinds of seeds are being planted right now as we live in this terribly uncomfortable space of drought times. I believe that as hard as this is, somehow, working within us and alongside us God will wrestle good out of this, despite the barren looking ground there are seeds of good being planted.
Perhaps only one question remains for tonight. Why name the calf Boo-boo? Pretty simple really. Andrew had a commonly used nickname, it was Boo-boo. Almost exactly to the day, 30 years later, I had the chance to experience another story where the main characters were Sofi, Kathy and Boo-boo and I jumped on the chance. Our whole family is enjoying getting to know Boo-boo. I am not surprised. The original Sofi and Boo-boo did great things together too!
About Boo-boo’s future……our hope with bottle fed calves is to be able to adopt them onto Mama cows who have had a calf that dies. Russ is pretty successful with what he calls his adoptions. That is what happened with Bob. We fed him in the barn for a couple of months before Freckles had the troubles and lost her own calf. The development of affection between Bob and Freckles has been slow. Imagine birthing a 100 pound calf and a day later having a 150 pound calf ambitiously feeding from you. Freckles was not thrilled. At this point in our calving season, with only five cows left to calve it is not likely that we will need Boo-boo for an adoption. Anything is possible but hopefully things are smooth for the rest. In that case we have a really tender hearted and ambitious friend lined up to take Boo-boo home. She enjoys having bottle fed calves and has the heart to deal with whatever challenges a calf might bring with it. We on the other hand are stretched and stressed, especially this year. Boo-boo is going to have a better year hanging out with Jennifer.
And now for something fairly ridiculous. This shirt is one of the last souvenirs I bought during my year in UWP. It was never a fancy shirt but it was made of beautiful fabric that draped nicely and felt so soft and good. I have never seen another shirt like it. I have worn it with fancy scarves and jewellery and made very good use of it, but not anymore. Now, worn as it is, it sits in my closet waiting for just the right work day. My feeling is that these are the days for this shirt. The wacky sentimental and perhaps nonsensical part of me thinks that if I am striving to keep Boo-boo fed I best have my Up With People shirt on. So multiple times over the last week I have put it on for and taken it off after a feeding, saving it for the next time. It has made me happy.
And thats one of many things that went down on the Bar MW ranch this week, its probably the most lighthearted one. Thanks for sharing it with me.
I am in possession of a prescription bottle that was filled and labeled in the summer of 1990. I am not sure if even one pill was used from it, that is until I opened it up last week. This medicine really took its power from the bottle itself and it served its purposes over the years.
The bottle was part of a gift that a friend of my brothers gave him. Bob was battling brain cancer and his friend gave him this bottle.
Ruth had rolled up pieces of paper with words on them and put them into clear capsules. This looks like it was painstaking work.
She filled the bottle with these capsules and made a label for the outside. She referred to herself as “Dr. Ruth”, and prescribed that Bob take one capsule daily or as needed. She called the capsules “uppers.”
Last fall when I was in Saskatoon with my Mom I found this jar of uppers in my Mom’s pill cupboard. She had kept it for 30 years, but like Bob had never ventured to unravel what was within. As I worked with Mom to get a system for her pills figured out I put the bottle of Ruth’s uppers into the collection of bottles we were working with daily. I put a label on top to distinguish it from everything else, it was cheesy of me, probably touched me more than anyone else but I labeled the top “UPPERS Bob’s Love.” Then after Mom’s passing when we were dealing with unused medicines I ended up taking that bottle of uppers home. Back at the ranch I tucked it into our medicine drawer. A couple weeks ago when the drawer was not closing properly I decided it was time for a good sort, to get rid of the outdated and unused things. The bottle of uppers was moved to my desk and I have looked at it with curiosity since. Last week I opened it up and unrolled the first “gift”, the first “upper”. It struck me. I taped it it to my desk and have looked at it and read it and thought about it quite alot since.
It reads, “AT THE BEGINNING OF A NEW DAY, LORD, I SIT IN A CHOICE SEAT. I WAIT EXPECTANTLY FOR THE CURTAIN TO GO UP AND FOR THE DRAMA TO BEGIN ROMANS 12:12”
Yesterday I opened another one, it touched me too. I wondered if this kind and creative effort that Ruth made 31 years ago might come into the light of day through the blog and be a blessing to me and others in this difficult season we are in. I hope to keep looking at these “uppers” one at a time over the next while and using them as a jumping off point to talk about life.
About this first unfolded capsule, I have several thoughts about it. Two things are top of my mind though. If I have a choice seat than that means that this is a very fortunate place to be. This bit of wisdom Ruth planted in that capsule is a reality check. The times are challenging, its still hot and it still has not rained, I just cancelled or had cancelled my third holiday in 12 months, but…………….in fact this is a choice seat. Yes it is. I can make a long list of blessings or ways that my life is easy. How challenging and important to hold the tension within this, on the one hand choice seat and blessings and at the same time and equally true, problems that make our hearts race, our brains scramble and our spirits weary. The other thing I like about this wisdom is that it normalizes drama. I don’t mean the stirred up kind of drama that people create for whatever reason they do…..maybe to feel more alive? I mean the kind of drama that is just part of being human and trying to make a living and a life amid the unknowns of our days. I don’t know why I need that to be normalized, maybe because it seems the ideal all around is to have life under control. But teenagers, weather, animals, health and other humans are not readily within my control, so things get dramatic, and its my job to be faithful in the midst of it all. I am not sure how this prayerful sentence Ruth tucked in that first capsule would have struck my brother, a man fighting for his life, it sure would have been interesting to have talked about this with him.
The Scripture reference that Ruth attached to this prayer sentence is Romans 12:12, that reads “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.” I am thankful that affliction is normalized in this verse, it is not a curse, it is life, and in the midst of it we are challenged to be patient. I wonder what Russ thinks about that. I am going to ask him when he gets in tonight. What I want to tell you about this verse from Romans 12 is that I couldn’t help myself and I went ahead and read the next one, verse 13, it is, “Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.” Tears came to my eyes when I read those verses. Could it be more clear what life is supposed to look like when we are following as we should? In these confusing times we live in I am very grateful for all sources of clarity that I find in life. These verses, part of a larger section in my Bible titled “Love in Action”, offer me clarity.
There was a more modern prescription that came into play today. Like the prescription of 1990 it was meant to boost morale and made to look very official. Russ phoned me this afternoon so… ….what …..demoralized …dejected …dissapointed ….I am not sure exactly, but big feelings that were hard. He had just finished baling 80 acres that was especially bad for yield. He had taken 1 hour 4 minutes to drive around and scoop up enough hay to make one bale. It was very hard on his morale, he was grumpy, it takes alot to make him grumpy. He asked, “do you think todays batch of iced coffee could include some tippy cow?” I agreed that it could, it should and it would. Tippy cow is a chocolate rum cream.
The bottle in our fridge was part of a gift basket from our veterinarians at Christmas. I believe it was Megan the vet tech who got really creative and put into words what the intent of this gift was, on a prescription label. It gave us smiles many times.
We are all frazzled, so it was that when I made that iced coffee I forgot to put the instant coffee in. I realized it in time, but there was no more space in the blender mug. I had to take a few healthy sips of the creamy cold tippy cow part of the beverage before the 3 tsp of instant coffee that Russell likes could be added. This was my good fortune, I highly recommend this combination! To wrap up this post, in a way that is a 180 degree shift from the start, here is the final “prescription” of the day:
Kathy’s Iced Coffee
In a blender mug combine:
1 cup milk
2 Tbsp. cream (optional)
3 tbsp. chocolate syrup
Instant coffee to your liking
2 ice cubes
2+ tbsp Tippy Cow (Optional)
Blend well until ice is all mulched. Store in freezer for 5-30 minutes
“BAIT Out!” Seth shouted from the car as it reached the end of the driveway, slowing to turn onto the main gravel road. “Did he just shout ‘Peace Out’?” I asked Russ and the kids. Russ said, “I think he said “BAIT Out.” Yes, that is what he said and it was a perfect conclusion to the time we had spent together.
It all started Tuesday night around 8pm when I was working in my kitchen. Russ and Morgan were sitting at the dining room table with two guests. I could hear some commotion at the garden doors off the dining room and looked up to see people at my door. There was that split second where my brain was sorting out what I was seeing and what I was hearing, was I hearing my daughters at the door? No. That was???????……….seriously!!!??!!?? I shouted out loud enough for the girls in the basement to hear “is that my sister?” They came racing up. It was my sister. What followed was alot of hugging, some tears and laughter.
Earlier in the week I had sent a message to our family chat to say that the kids and I were not going to be able to make it to our regular family time at the Kyle Family Cottage. With things being as hard as they are on the ranch I just cannot leave Russell with the work here and take his crew and be eight hours away and feel at peace. My sister decided if she was going to see us she would need to claim the time this week. She worried that I would fuss if I knew they were coming, hence, the surprise arrival. She came laden with a care package so large that I am tempted to believe it was divine intervention that I was moved to clean my fridges the evening before. That care package was the result of the baking, cooking and purchasing of all three of my sisters and my cousin. They were sending love and comfort and some ready to go meals. It was unbelievably exciting and overwhelming.
I think this visit and the family care that was a part of it is a really good illustration of the concept my blog is centred on, the power of really being seen and really seeing one another, I see you, you see me. I sent that message to the family chat and soon after heard back the concern for the ranch, for each of us, and the regret that we couldn’t be part of things this summer. What I didn’t expect is that my message, perhaps alongside the info in recent blogs, would result in such concrete action. Words go a long, long way in providing comfort, encouragement and understanding, but when the words are backed up by action there couldn’t be a more solid way of saying “I see you.” Its a short trip from that clear message “I see you” to the lived feeling that we are loved. It is unbelievable how valuable these messages of understanding and love are. I asked Russ what is behind this for him, what makes being seen so significant. He said, “because it tells me that we are not alone.” That is major. (We have good support here, we definitely know we are not alone, but I think there are times when you get so deep into the trenches that you start to forget.)
Margie and her kids Seth and Brodie arrived with great sensitivity about imposing on us (so they had a booking at the hotel), they were clear that they were here to help in whatever way they could. I knew that what I longed for was both practical and emotional. This team was well suited. Margie is a great listener, funny, wise and MY SISTER. Seth is both interested and capable with mechanical and construction stuff, Brodie has her own drone photography business. We put them to work. They helped us move some cows, Margie tackled a pile of dishes that had grown overnight it seemed, Seth fixed doorknobs and cupboard hinges, Brodie photographed our yard and hayfields, Seth mowed the lawn, Margie talked with me about losing our Mom and we all worked together on a couple of special meals. All of this is where Seth’s proclamation at the end of the driveway comes into play. On the way down from Saskatoon they had read my blog post highlighting my “bad ass” self. They got joking that they were “B.A.I.T” the bad ass intervention team. Indeed they were and as Seth offered his parting words it seemed like a celebration of their “mission accomplished!” Indeed it was. We were seen and supported, we were enabled to carry on being our bad ass ranching selves for a little while longer.
A few pictures…………
Brodie took this picture with her drone. This is our house yard. I can’t help but think that this perspective brings a whole new set of possibilities to the notion of “I see you.” What I see here is Margie’s car in the driveway and people near it, very similiar to how it looked as she slipped into our driveway the evening before.The excitement and the unpacking. See that huge multi-pack of Cheezies (36 bags!)? I took a package from them out to Russell in the field at lunch today, he said, “how did Janet know that Hawkins Cheezies are our love language?” Janet knows.Cheezies in their natural habitat. That is iced coffee on the dash, a summer time staple in the hayfield.Brodie baked us a batch of her famous Chipit Squares. Back when I started my bakery project Margie was very moved by the idea of creating a Saskatoon branch of “Broken Bread Bakery” and wondered if I would mind. I didn’t. Margie shares her homebaked goods with anyone who she senses needs a little extra something, care or strength, or appreciation. She has created a beautiful tag here.Margie is funny. Thinking about the Super Pooper work that was part of my week she packed me the Lysol. Kleenex for the stress tears. Chewy candies are always a hit. Given how the sh*t hits the fan around here many days, that toilet paper was a funny way of saying, “I see you.” There were other nummy things on top and around these items.Rhubarb Strawberry jam holds a really special place in our family story, because of my Mom. It was one of her specialties and part of her love language. Linda cooked up a batch and sent me four containers and many other things to make life easier and nummy.Margie tackling those dishes while on the other side of the pass thru, Jill at her baking desk is making some of her Harry Potter sorting hat cookies. At this point I think I was just finishing up eating one of my cousin Jodi’s beyond delicious ginger cookies. On this morning I had two for breakfast and spread butter on them. Incredible. Jodi sent a pail of them, I am set for a long time!Visiting time.Another perspective on the ranch scene. Ron pulling the discbine which cuts the hay. Jill was at the wheel of the tractor pulling the rake when this picture was taken. I love the angle that Brodie’s drone captures.A moment in the hayfield. Alot of people on the ground in this moment. I am not sure what was going on. We have had alot of troubles this week, this could have been anything.Visiting over a cup of coffee. Kind’ve perfect.
On Sunday evening Russ and I headed to Carievale to pick up Jill from a friends’ place, enroute we dealt with a cow/calf issue at a pasture near there and dropped off a dozen buns for the Broken Bread Bakery. In preparation for the drop-off some texts went back and forth, in one of those I said, “Russ and I have been fixing rake teeth since 8am. I look terrible.” An hour later, standing in the doorway with buns in hand I was told that my message first read that we had been fixing fake teeth. For my bun customer this was quite confusing and required some thinking and then a re-read before getting this weird thing figured out. I enjoyed hearing this anecdote and the little part of me that needs comic relief enjoyed briefly letting my mind settle on what that would look like to be hovered over fake teeth all day with Russell, working on a fix, in the middle of haying season. Its absurd and it makes me smile.
The truth is it was a big day. The hydraulic problem we had with our rake earlier on the weekend resulted in a multitude of rake teeth getting broken due to incorrect pressures exerted on them. The normal process is that after Ron has cut the hay with the discbine and that hay is cured the kids pull this rake over the field and gather it into swaths that Russ then picks up with the baler.
Jill raking earlier last week.
On Sunday we replaced just under a hundred rake teeth, one by one, in painsticking picky work that requires two sets of hands. I believe the official tally, although Russ did not keep count on purpose, is that I had three small hissy fits and this included two episodes of being near tears. But….we survived. Once I got the hang of it I really didn’t mind it. The fact that it was not a dangerous job took a big amount of stress out of it. I got to be beside Russell all day and we easily could chit chat our way through the job (once the more hissy fit type moments had passed.)
My thumbs are still stiff from counter pressuring all these bolts as they were loosened and tightened.Ever the faithful dog, loyal to Russell especially, Bingo hung near all day and got a really good nap in. Her relaxed and trusting position cracks us up.
Russ was able to park the rake mostly in the shade so we were quite well protected from the 34 degree heat. So that is how we passed our Sunday. Fixing fake teeth, er, I mean, rake teeth. Three things about this day……….all kind’ve random.
Gina left for work at the ice cream shop a bit early and then swung back into the yard shortly after. What was up? Well, Jean was home from holidays a little earlier than expected and Gina didn’t have to work. Jean didn’t want to call Gina too early, but what she didn’t know is that Gina is so affected by her mother always being on the verge of being late, that she is always extremely early. Anyways it was fantastic to have Gina back. She put lunch on the smoker and with Morgan tackled part one of the Carievale cow problem. Somehow in the back and forth of lunch prep Coffee dog got out and on the loose and she went for a swim in the dugout. Morgan and I nearly lost our minds. Coffee’s splint was soaked, she would need a repeat visit to the vet. Morgan loves that dog so much his reaction was worry about complications, I was upset about bugging the vets and the cost. I took her in yesterday (Monday) and they got her all dry and treated and resplinted with lots of kindness.
That splint is not bothering Coffee much. If she rested like this a little more I would feel better.
I don’t do alot of manual labor around here and I am never far from warm running water when I do. My day at the rake meant hours to accumulate dirt on my hands and I was a bit obsessed by the sight of it. It was mostly because I found it rather fascinating. My hands were the key tool I had in the job at hand, I was pushing, twisting, and wiggling alot. Russ and I coined a new phrase actually, “less thinking, more wiggling.” It worked in many cases, getting new teeth into tight spaces. Anyways, looking at my hands I marvelled that these are the same hands that have baptized alot of babies and presided over communion and formed alot of buns. How can one person swing from such “holiness” to such dirt and have it all be acceptable? My brain is a bit tired right now, I thought I was ready to probe that, but I am a bit muddled. I can’t help but think that it might make a good sermon though. What makes any of us ready to serve? Do the marks of our living make us better able to serve? Maybe thats enough for now.
Dirty hands at the rake teeth.
One last thing, in the afternoon Gina and Morgan went to Carievale to get that cow penned up, she had been found visiting the neighbors without her calf. (This is the cow Russ and I would pick up later and deliver back to its herd.) After a hot jog to chase it into the neighbors holding pen the kids stopped in Carnduff for snacks and they brought Russ and I each a cold drink. As they stood at the rake visiting with us while we took some sips, Morgan looked at me and he said, “Mom, you have such a diverse skill set, you are really bad-ass.” As a mother I should be outraged by his language but I was tickled pink by his comment. I think partly because it accomplished exactly what my blog web address reflects “I see you.” For me it feels so good to be seen. I also think his word choice represented some story balance for me. You see, I spent my whole childhood as a good kid, what we called in the 70s and 80s a “goody goody.” I didn’t date til I was 19 and I never had a drink until I was in university. I am kind’ve happy at the thought that maybe I am safely turning my middle years into some bad-ass days of living large and my boy sees me.
What bad-ass looks like in 2021.
Its Tuesday morning now and I am happy to report that yesterday I managed to get both my fridges cleaned. I open the doors and just look at how pretty they are. That friends is what you call middle aged, bad-ass living large!
Saturday evening – Jill is in Carievale right now and Gina is in Carnduff, they both posted to the family chat pictures of the rain coming down in each place. For the second time this week rain has fallen unbelievably close to us but stopped short of reaching us. That is not to say that we won’t benefit from some of those rains, we have pasture and hayland that likely caught some of it. However, I said to Russell yesterday, “a person almost feels cursed”, he immediately cautioned me not to think or talk in the direction of cursedness. He is wise. Digging into the hearts doing the ranching around here we are dealing with so much hard stuff right now. A blog that invites the reader to experience life on a Canadian ranch would be misleading if it glossed over these days we are having. I just don’t want to do that. What do I tell you? How do I write about this so that you don’t shut it down and close the page because its depressing? Can I lure you into reading more by promising that I will counter every tough paragraph with something positive, hopeful or possibly funny? I think that is what Russell would want. The problem with thinking along lines of being cursed is that it sucks you in and makes you lose sight of the broader reality, which in our case is that we have true blessings that we experience every day.
So…………the big big deal…………our hay yield sucks. What this means……we do not have the feed we need to make it through the winter and especially if it is a tough winter. We have no way of knowing about that. We are not alone. There are few ranchers within hundreds of miles of here untouched by the drought we are in and some much worse than we are, we can be thankful that we have some hay. Right now that means some lost sleep, lots of mental scrambling to figure out options, and flirting with the awful thought that we might have to sell some of our cows. The hard part of that is that everyone will be selling some and the market will be glutted, which means a low price will be paid. The terrible part is that we sell our cows, our beautiful creatures with names and histories and places in our heart. That sense of connection is hard to explain, they can be mean and threatening, they can be gross and stinky, but we journey with them and we are theirs and they are ours.
This cow is a big part of Russell’s sense of cow history. He remembers milking her grandma, a retired purebred holstein named “Pokey.” After he had broken both his arms in 1979 this milking job was part of his physiotherapy. Mozza Stick is the daughter of Wilbur, who was one of Pokey’s last calves. This makes Russell 3 generations of cows old.
Okay, I guess you have to be careful what you wish for. When I said I would alternate the hard with maybe something funny I wasn’t sure what that funny would be, but it presented itself. Just after I wrote that heartfelt line about our journey with the cows Russ phoned. He said he had a story for me but it really ended up being a job. He could hardly tell me the story for the laughter it caused him. Morgan was checking the calving herd, now down to a dozen, he found a situation which required him to load up a calf in the truck and drive it over to its Mama. The calf pooped, right on the drivers seat, why the calf was in the drivers seat I will never know. Morgan was therefore stranded in the calving pasture. He called Russ to come get him, the way that call started Russ figured he must have totalled the truck or something. Russ was relieved to be able to stay in the hayfield and call me for back-up. Morgan asked for paper towel and garbage bags plural. I thought that must have been one heckuva mess. On my way over I decided that this was not the time to push Morgan’s adult skill building, he has had a rough couple days with helping with repairs in high heat and not much satisfaction of getting work done, so, I was going to do the clean-up. I got Morgan to take my picture as I approached the job decked out with a pail of bleachey water, paper towel, two sizes of garbage bags and disposable gloves. I said, “Morgan, Super Pooper has arrived.” He said, “Mobile Super Pooper”, I have never taken my skills on the road before! (If you don’t count summer camp.) Anyways, for those who don’t know, I have an alter ego, a super hero identity, I am “Super Pooper” because no matter how gross the job I can usually handle it. Life on a ranch and with kids has given me many opportunities to strengthen the skills I began working on when as a 17 year old I was a nurses aide. Morgan has literally no tolerance for this part of life yet. He would have walked home if I had not come. The job was not hard and before too long Morg was rolling. In fact he was done for the day at that point. When he got home he said he would wait to eat, he needed some down time. I said, “do me a favor and wash your face.” He said, “how about you do me a favor and wash it for me.” He sat down on the toilet seat and I got to wash his face, like the good old days, it did this Mama’s heart good.
“Super Pooper” in her new service option….going mobile.
Ranching from the heart………..I hate haying season. With three tractors and three implements in the field every day the possibility of mechanical issues seems high. We have newer implements but two very old tractors, our newer tractor doesn’t seem too hardy. I am always so relieved when I pick up the phone to find Russ sounding chipper on the other end, he usually is, but sometimes he is just exasperated. He has a gift for staying up when the conditions are trying but the way things mount up is getting to even him. Having said that we can see our blessings. For some reason last night the monitor in the baler was completely wonky. Russ thought it through and this morning realized this was a tractor battery issue. Our local shops are closed on Saturday but that didn’t stop Erin from coming in from her farm, opening up her shop and selling us a battery. Russ got up and running feeling infinitely grateful for Erin’s generosity of spirit. However, then the fan on the air conditioner went. By shortly after lunch Brock was in the field doing mobile service on that problem. I had delivered Russ a stellar lunch. So shortly after Brock left, with the ac running, I got a text from Russ that said, “U R married to the happiest man in the world.” See what I mean? He finds every reason to claim the good. My afternoon included delivering buns for my bakery project and when I got back Jim Lee from Lee’s Service was in the yard trying to fix a very weird hydraulic problem we are having with the hay rake and a weird glitchy thing on the PTO shaft on the tractor. So…………after a first week of haying with no breakdown delays, today was the mother of all service days, and I guess I topped it off with my mobile super pooper call to the calving pasture!!!
Something positive………….Serious excitement is brewing around here about the fact that we are officially in book writing mode. All those times that Liz Griffin came to take pictures at our place were part of personal need for documenting our life just before Gina graduated and moved but also were research…..did we have the material to create a book about ranch life? We had a creative meeting this week and decided that yes, we are moving on to the next step. There are beautiful images that Liz has taken that are just too good to not offer in large format. However, we are short on summer scenes and summer work. So…………Liz came and documented our work moving cows to alternate pasture on Thursday night. Afterwards she shared 2 sneaks peeks on Facebook. They are here. She captured beauty and joy, for me these pictures are like a mirror that reflects back that alongside the struggles of today we are immersed in beauty and we feel joy.
A little more about the shape of this drought. Our hay is poor but our pasture is decent. Our water is low but not gone yet. The poor hay can be explained by the dry summer, fall and then winter that we had, no water in place to get the hay started in a meaningful way. The fact that we have any yield is due to the rains that I commented on previously in the blog. Thats how I understand this. So when you look at pictures you might see green grass, you see water in a dugout, it doesn’t look like a drought, you might think I am not being accurate, and for truth, it could be much worse. That is a very scary thought. The signs of vitality you see are a result of timely rains in certain spots, we continue to hold our breath. In my dark moments I wonder, “am I going to be holding my breath for the rest of my life?”
Something positive………Gina got a call from one of our local superheros. Her name is Jean and she runs an ice cream shop in town, out of a structure she had built onto her house. She was going on a holiday and rather than shut the ice cream shop down she wondered if Gina would come and run it. She went for training and then took over. Our girl is having quite the experience and it is fun to hear her stories and who she gets to see. I think she is doing a good job and mostly its pretty fun for her. I call Jean a superhero because her creative approach to offering this business has meant a great drop in spot in Carnduff for awesome ice cream, she is a special person in alot of people’s eyes, for those of us who love ice cream her work is heroic! However, we are missing Gina on the ranch crew and Morgan and Jill are picking up the slack. I think Gina has plumped up their cones when we have gone in for a “visit” with her.
Gina serving Grandma Shirley on her 1st day on the job.After our cow move Thursday night Kent picked up his kids and the whole crew went for a visit with Gina.
Ranching from the heart………I didn’t have it in me this year to plant flowers. My planters are empty. That probably sounds depressing to some but to me it represents freedom. For some reason the work of keeping myself and Russ, three kids, four dogs, five cats, for a time a bottle fed calf, 17 horses and hundreds of cows and calves alive is just enough for me. (Only a fraction of this is my responsibility but I am involved in every issue at some level.) I can’t muster an ounce of interest in watering and fertilizing flowers. I truly hope I don’t need that freedom next year and I will be back to it.
In the meantime, Russ has been picking me bouquets from the pastures. The wildflowers are beautiful.
Another thing positive……….my kids all got their second vaccine this week. Gina had to shut down the ice cream shop for a day afterwards due to a rapid series of symptoms, fever, headache, exhaustion, but she bounced back and is doing great.
Another thing positive…..our province felt it was timely to remove all Covid restrictions. Life is feeling more normal again. I cannot imagine what would be unfolding if the vaccines were not working to protect us as pretty nasty variants make their way around. So, so, so, thankful!!!
Another thing positive……….Coffee dog is doing great with her broken leg and getting great care from the vets. This week she needed some extra TLC at her splint check. Jenna had her just about purring.
Another thing positive……..I am married to the best friend I ever had. As hard as a day gets I know it is a privilege to get to lie beside him every night and talk over anything and everything that I am thinking about.
The drought is horrible and we have had some pretty searching conversations about prayer around here this week. Way too deep to work on in this already lengthy post. Maybe another time. In the meantime I had a grace this week, I had a day when I had this recurring thought and feeling come bubbling up, “everything is going to be okay.” It felt like a total blessing.
We had a call this morning that a neighbor’s herd of heifer cows had broken in with one of our herds. We know this could cause trouble because if our big bull breeds his heifers (young and inexperienced cows) he will have calving troubles next spring. So, Russ has been assembling a cowboy crew to head down there and fix the troubles by sorting out Corey’s heifers from our cows and bulls. Without the benefit of a gate/corral system it is extra tricky to sort cows on the open range. Russ wants me to come with them and act like a human gate. I am not very interested. I am in a super homebody mode these days. I am soon going to be changing into my work clothes though and heading out. Its 4:32pm. I have to go clean out my vehicle. I will have passengers because the crew Russ gathered is large and that bodes well for our success, but the truck is in an embarrassing state.
5:58pm We are at the pasture and all the cowboys and girls have saddled up and headed off. Here is what some of that action looked like.
Cowboy David riding his horse SadieCowboy Dawson riding SpiritCowboy Evan riding DickCowboy Kent riding Lady PenelopeCowgirl Briella getting ready to jump onto Jane.Cowgirl Marisol riding ThunderbirdCowgirl Jackie on her horse Roscoe.The crew pulls away.Morgan, Russ and Bingo at the head of the group.As woman on the ground, I was needed to hold horses while things got sorted out. This selfie kind’ve cracks me up. It looks like I am having a decent hair day, but Sundance, not so much!!!
In the end I didn’t have to drive, instead another truck and trailer went to accommodate all the horses and I got to be a passenger with Jackie. That gave us time to talk about how it is that I became a minister and she became a nurse. Now I am waiting for the crew to go round up the herd. We have set up trucks and trailers to act as wings in a corner of the pasture and with those cowboys hope to hold the herd while we sort out those heifers and the bull they are meant to be hanging out with. Russ figures it will take them 45 minutes or more to get the herd and move them back to this corner. The pasture is absolutely beautiful, rolling hills, coulees, trees, wild flowers and just out of sight the Souris river. There is a good breeze and it has started to cool down. I am not hard done by sitting here with my laptop.
I had a little Kathy victory moment before we left the yard. I noticed a low tire, by the time Russ came around to see what was up I had found the air hose, attached it to the outside air spigot, found the airchuk inside the shop, got it attached and was getting the tire aired up. For many that would be no big deal, but that represents a bit of competence that I didn’t used to have and I was glad for Russ to find me taking care of business.
Tuesday, 10:09am Not long after I wrote that last bit I could hear mooing in the distance, the crew was closer than I thought so I shut my laptop and hopped out of the truck. In fact they had yet to get across a coulee before they topped a hill, so I took time for some selfies, had a real portrait session of it actually, burned up alot of power on my low power phone and never did capture a sharp one. Anyways……..the thing about being a ranch wife is that you get to save all your old favorite clothes for work days. You have an excuse to hang on to stuff that normally should have been pitched. This is a bonus for sentimental people like me. For the work of this day I was happily wearing jeans that I remember first wearing on a family vacation in Cody, Wyoming in 2008, my t-shirt is a souvenir of my year in Up With People (1991).
Russ let me use his shepherd’s crook, its kindv’e mysterious, holds alot of power. I tried to do right by it. (We build it up like that to bolster our confidence….its maybe just a long cane….maybe.)
Once the cows got near it didn’t take long for the real action to begin. At first, standing in the gate watching things I wondered if it could be done. The large group of cowboys and cowgirls was very much needed. We had many at the back holding the cow herd into the corner and then several in and around the front of the herd to sort out the heifers. Luckily they were a different breed than most of ours and easy to keep sight of once contact was made. It was a good feeling to see the crew get the first heifer out, I did my job at the gate to get it to leave our pasture and enter Corey’s. Part of my job was to be still as a statue to not frighten the heifer away as it approached. At one point when it seemed I had done that quite well and the critical moment had passed David shouted over “hey is that the Mona Lisa over there?!?” I appreciated the recognition, David got his message across by comparing me to a beautiful painting when my job was to be a statue, as far as I’m concerned its all art and through that first piece of art that came to mind he gave me the message, “I see you over there trying hard!” I appreciated it. Once the heifer advanced past where sight of me was a problem I became a human fence with my shepherds crook held wide and moving up quickly from behind. It was pretty impressive to see the crew and watch their bravery, the sorters had to be up close and personal and give the heifers a sense of space and permission to move towards the gate while keeping our cows back.
Corey, David and Laurie wading through a small sea of cows.Russ, Corey, David, Morgan and Laurie running that red heifer up the fence. The tricky part here was to keep our calves back. It was quite a feat to get to get the heifer this far up and away from the rest of the herd.The entrance back into Corey’s pasture. It was a 90 degree angle from the gate out of our pasture. Early on I had to keep one eye on it to make sure these girls didn’t come wandering back out. Once the bull joined them they were all off and gone like a party had been called!
We had to find, sort out and move away 17 heifers and one bull from our herd of 120 cow calf pairs and 6 big Simmental bulls. One of those bulls created an exciting and memorable moment. He started to charge the gate, Russ said, “stop that bull!”, whether I was stupid, obedient or brave I don’t know but I just became warrior Kathy, ran straight at him with that powerful crook in both my hands and I roared, “Noooooooooo!!!!!!.” That 2200 pound bull skidded to a stop right at the gate and turned back to the herd. I found out later that I yelled so loud that I frightened most of the cowboys. Morgan said he was watching the whole thing and knew why I was yelling but still got scared. Russ says he was very proud of me.
Russ was crew chief, we certainly count on his incredible cowboy skills and his people skills.
A good picture of Russell with his pal Evan just behind.
Partway through the process he said, “I think wer’e starting to feel grouchy, lets take a break!” Corey had brought all manner of cold refreshments and lots of them and we did get a benefit from stopping to rest. Russ and a few others stayed at the back and held the herd, others of us were able to visit.
Corey handing out drinks on the break.
After that we had more challenging moments, I think a few swear words were heard, several times a heifer would get so close to the gate and then change its mind and turn 180 degrees at high speed, a wee bit of rodeo was part of these moments.
An example of the challenge….cows, calves and a heifer all together coming up the fence…we need to work some cowboy magic to get the heifer alone.
It was a great feeling when we were down to one to go and then we were done! Corey pulled out delicious snacks and another round of cold drinks, we had a more relaxed visit now.
Evan always has a good story for Russell.One of our neighbors came down the road in time to enjoy this part of the evening. Charlie enjoyed Evan’s jokes as much as we did I think.It’s the hang loose cowpokes in the back and the setting sun that make this pic seem a bit epic to me.Before the day was over Russ took the chance to show Marisol how to bridle a horse with a sore ear. All loaded back up…..that’s a wrap!
As Far As The Eye Can See 