The Daily Grind.
The alarm goes off.
I snuggle closer to my farmer.
These days have been so long and hard.
Winters grip is tight.
Wood is not burning.
I lay my hands on my farmers shoulder as he awakes and silently pray that all he touches today will have success.
He rises without a sound.
His day has begun.
It’s 3:15 am.
Before he heads to the barn he will make my coffee and bow his knee to the Giver of Life.
He will check the boiler here to make sure the fire is going strong.
Then and only then will he head to the barn.
Once there the daily grind may be similar, or more likely than not; different.
Any number of things could go wrong.
Or maybe they will go right.
No matter the case my farmer will persevere with a mostly positive attitude and the fortitude to conquer.
Dairy Farmers are an interesting breed.
There is no challenge that is too great.
They thrive on the words, “You can’t do that.”
Their tenacity for little sleep and innovation is remarkable.
My farmers day continues with the necessary chores to care for our herd of dairy cows.
He will put their needs above his own.
He will set the Mixer wagon to mixing while he freshens the cows beds.
He often calls to check in during this time.
Just to say hi.
This is a skill he has learned.
My farmer is quiet by nature.
Actions are his words.
Unless he puts those words on paper.
Oh, how our relationship was forged through the written word; both Ancient and the lovely words he would write.
When the cows are fed and milking chores are done my farmer will head home for breakfast.
Our coffee buddy will join us.
Together we will hash out the schedule for that daily grind.
With our mugs filled with hot coffee, or hot chocolate in my farmers case, we consider the weather and the most important issues.
We don’t sit long these days.
It’s cold and there is much to do to keep this place running.
We are out of fire wood and almost out of feed.
Time is ticking.
It is almost our enemy.
Soon after, we all part ways.
The cows need more feed.
The heifers, dry cows and Highlands need to be checked on.
We may meet for lunch if there’s time.
If not I’ll see my farmer later in the evening.
Some nights we hold his dinner in the oven and he eats alone by the fire.
Relishing his quiet time.
But his day isn’t over.
He’ll head back to the barn at some point and check on every one.
He’ll push up the feed.
And then, only then, will he head home to catch a few hours of sleep before the alarm sounds again.
You will keep him in perfect peace,
Whose mind is stayed on You,
Because he trusts in You.