Foul Weather

Late spring is exhausting. I always forget, and wonder to myself at just about this time each year, “Why am I so overwhelmed?” This week was a doozie, and I (Racey) am writing because Nathan is flat on his back with debilitating sciatic pain.

We started the week with the news that Nathan’s Grandma had decided that she was done living and would stop eating and drinking. When faced with the option of abdominal surgery for a hernia, and after years of advocating to her family the importance of end of life choices, she had decided that 98 good years was enough. We are proud and inspired by her decision, despite the grief.

Then Benjamin (our Amish neighbor who lives on the farm) told us the Holstein bull he’d borrowed to “keep his cow company” had disappeared. Then Chad and Gwen spent from 10pm to 2am Monday night wrangling new cows in the dark, and Nathan couldn’t find the piece of paper that had the total number of cows on it, so in the morning we weren’t 100% sure to have recovered everyone. We caught the 6th and biggest woodchuck of the season in the live trap, got 11,000 pounds of chicken feed delivered and our 6th batch of chicks came in the mail. Lily, our farmhouse renter and chicken slaughter and chores farmer, did a stellar job moving the chickens in the field until they caught up with our brush clearing project. Thank goodness for my brother-in-law who lives in our basement and who took an hour to clear some brush so the chickens could move.

On Wednesday, at dinner, Chief exclaimed, “Mama, what’s THAT?” Out our window, we saw a buggy-less Amish horse galloping down the road, escorted at a safe distance by one of our neighbors. I texted our neighbor to ask if she needed help, then realized I was home alone with a 6-year-old and 3-year-old and it was bed time, I didn’t have a truck or trailer available (nor do I know how to navigate the gooseneck trailer). I reluctantly rescinded my offer. Luckily, this horse knew exactly where it was going, and stopped when it got there.

We had a low of 37 Wednesday night (poor plants) and the chill left me feeling fragile Thursday morning. In the middle of a challenging morning on my other job, I got a call from Nathan, who was in NH saying goodbye to his Grandma. His sciatic pain had flared up and he was headed to the ER. After a very unsatisfactory ER visit (“Back pain is tricky”), and a painful ride home, he’s horizontal, breathing through the pain in a way that reminds me of childbirth. There was no injury. This has been some time in the coming, after a winter at the desk and common financial woes that come with farming. It’s been getting worse as the weeks have passed, and he has tried everything – chiropractor, PT, naturopath, massage, mind body therapy, yoga, tai chi, meditation. We’re hopeful it will resolve, as many other farmers’ June pains have before us (read The Dirty life, for one), but for now we are grateful for farmers, friends and family who can help with chores, child care and keep Nathan company. Oh, we’re also grateful for modern and home grown drugs.

This week felt like we were still in year one.

Chief was ready for foul weather…