Well, That Stinks!

Three days ago, I decided I would get some writing done!  I was going to pen (type) beautiful pros about motherhood, growth, life and other profound stuff.  Things did not go as planned.  I thought I could accomplish this feat because Ry is home and could therefore take care of the little snapping turtle, while I roam free.  FREE I tell you!!!.  I sat down to the keyboard and heard the sheep blatting.  My sleep deprived brain thought: “I should use my new found morning mobility go feed the outside animals really quick, then come back in a write.  I will be a hero!”

That’s where things went sideways.

I mentioned in my last post that skunks have been getting into the chicken coop and causing all sorts of issues.  I can say skunks plural, because we have already caught and relocated three this year.  We drive them miles and miles away, so it is not the same skunk multiple times.  My husband has been taking their mug shots as well, in order to make sure we are not dealing with just one super smart skunk, equipped with GPS and a quad.  Last year, we caught four before the summer was out and this morning it appears that we tied that record, and it’s not even July.

Seriously, what the heck is this?!  Are we on some sort of skunk grocery map of the area?

Of those seven skunks, I have handled about half without incident but today my lucky streak ended.  The chemical strike was not as bad as it could have been but it was still a day changer.  Thank god Ry was home!  After a whole bottle of Natures Miracle and an hour in the bathroom I had isolated the problem area and emerged much less stinky- to father and daughter napping on the couch, completely unbothered by my pungent plight.

After that, all I could think to write about is how animals and children are the ultimate day changers.  It is almost pointless to try an plan ahead in any sort of detail.  A thing that is highlighted every couple hours when I have to nurse the wee one.  It is additionally proven by the homestead surprises we wake to each morning.  Like, when I go out on the deck and find Lulu on the other side of the wrong fence.

We have made progress on our list of July to-do’s.  Sheep are moved to their new pen, Lulu is partially sheered. (You can see some her wool behind the bottle in the top picture.)  The gardens are growing rapidly just like the little monster, who will be 2 months old Thursday.

As I sat in the bath lamenting the unexpected wrinkle in my plans, I had to remind myself that we are fortunate to have gotten through what have in the last couple months.  The transformations have been astounding and every day brings a new challenge and change.  If it’s not the sheep getting out, it’s the chickens or the dogs, sometimes even the cat gets into trouble.  Soon, the baby will also be eligible for escape attempts and I am enjoying this stage when she can’t do much more than coordinate wiggles.

I am trying not to obsess about the future and all its stresses; trying to figure out how we are going to make ends meet and find a new balance around the homestead.   It is important to remember to be in the moment as time marches on.  If I spend all my day in future worry I miss the chance to be mindful of the current blessings past growth has brought.

The gardens are a constant tangible reminder that the growth each day is small, but the effect over time is astounding.

It dawned on me in my stinky bath that I should be more grateful when my day goes as I plan.  With so many beings carefully balanced next to one another it doesn’t take much for it all to go very wrong.  It is a delicate system with each thing effecting the next.  We have spun this web over the past six years and I need to remember to be thankful for the structures we have and the harvests we reap.  It is easy to rush around doing chores  without any respect for the fact that at any point simple tasks can lead to serious consequences, things more permeant than a little skunk spray.

I have to remember that things grow best when I don’t constantly poke and prod them.  (The baby is also not appreciative of this practice.)  If I trust the web we have created and let time pass freely through it, I can be more appreciative of my blessings.

Children are the ultimate measure of time, proof of growth and change that can easily go unnoticed until the moment I try to put my favorite onesie on the Wiggle Worm and it won’t fit.

I started writing this post Sunday and I might actually post it soon.  I am learning to let go of my morning plans and accept the challenges the day brings without angst.

I’m not there yet but at least I don’t smell anymore.

Thank you for reading be well, and have a great day!