I love country life. In many ways, I am seeing that it is a lifestyle I have yearned for.
I love the quiet, the opportunity to watch wildlife from every window of our house, even the constant parade of workers (“My harem” as Chuck calls them) who are implementing the changes that are turning our home and land into exactly what we want.
Now that the inside of our house is nearly finished (for now), with the arrival of warmer weather I have been concentrating on the removal of an abundance of weeds that have taken over every landscaped inch around our home. I have tilled each section, laid about a thousand yards of what I call “weed rugs” to suffocate the pests into submission and scattered nearly 200 bags of mulch. The ultimate goal is to achieve low maintenance and simple, but beautiful gardens for at least a few years.
I have learned to drive our truck that will also safely pull our horse trailer. Because of its massive, intimidating size, I call it “Mr. Testosterone.” It seems to know its way to every hardware store and nursery within a hundred mile radius! Our Kubota, an all terrain vehicle has been dubbed “Kubudda” because it has a large bed that makes my life so much easier by hauling the tools I need to work around the property.
I have learned that my desire to protect all wildlife is not always in its or our best interest. Last week a beautiful skunk began to wander around the yard during daylight hours. Since they are nocturnal, this was a warning sign I did not understand until our tile mason alerted me to the real possibility that the skunk was rabid. He killed it with his small shotgun. Immediately thereafter, vultures appeared to do their job. To my surprise, they sat and looked at the skunk as if trying to decide where to begin their small feast. I later learned that prey birds and animals intuitively know not to eat a rabid animal. Therefore, without touching it, I thanked the birds for being so smart and scooped the skunk into a wooden box. I placed it in our burn barrel (used to burn paper, etc. since we do not have garbage pickup), poured a little gasoline and some fresh wildflowers on top and cremated the poor thing.
I have learned how to make nonpoisonous weed killer and how to treat our ponds for algae and plants without harming the water or the environment and to use the wonderful resources available to us through the local Farm Bureau and Department of Agriculture.
I have come to understand why I, too will have only a farmer’s tan. There are fire ants everywhere. They attack in seconds and leave painful welts on any part of the body that is exposed. If you are allergic to them, the only thing that will save your life is an EpiPpen. We now have two.
Steel-toe boots and long pants are a necessity even when working in the yard. When using any kind of machinery, they protect against accidents to the feet and legs, bites from fire ants and any poisonous snakes that have gotten past our feisty outdoor cats. A wide-brim hat is necessary if you do not want to fry your brains in the strong sunlight.
Being around and observing our neighbors, I have developed a deep appreciation for their work ethic and willingness to drop what they are doing to help someone in need. They get up early and go to bed pretty close to sunset. Whether raising cattle, chickens, other livestock, hay, fruit, nuts or vegetables, their lives revolve around the weather. Too much rain is as bad as too little.
To my amusement, after a heavy rain, workmen are uncomfortable driving on our dirt road. To them minor flooding and mud holes are waiting to suck their trucks into oblivion. Since they have never experienced a monsoon season or roads that are impassable in perfect weather, I chuckle silently. It is all about what you are used to!
The people around me work seven days a week with time off for church on Sunday. In their spare time, they make money from cottage industries. Our painter and his wife cater community events and grow corn so that they can create a maze of cornstalks school groups enjoy losing themselves in. Others teach school during the day, tutor in the afternoon and work as wait staff in local hangouts on weekends. They always have time to help a neighbor and host parties in community parks everyone is invited to. Compared to them, my life is a breeze.
People are friendly. They wave when you pass them on the road and welcome you into their stores and homes. Everyone has time to talk about the weather and how the TV meteorologist messed up the forecast again. Until they know you, they will call you Ma’am or Miss or Mister. When you offer someone a cool drink, they rarely accept unless you have a relationship with them.
As always, it is wonderful to be busy, and to choose to take the time to observe the wonders around me, and the opportunity to think while working outside…