![]() The farmer was finishing up milking but told us that she was down in the heifer pasture. That would have to come afterward I wasn’t going to miss this. ![]() The floors hadn’t even been mopped yet, or exam rooms restocked. The three of us piled into the old, silver, Toyota vet truck and set out. It was a perfectly beautiful summer evening to go take care of a down cow. The three of us always enjoyed each other’s company when working together. Matt, the vet student, was assisting, so he came that night too. The farmer had a down heifer, up in Northfield, and needed the doc to come up and take a look.ĭonna was the vet on call that night I was 18. The call came in during evening office hours. ![]() The air was perfect as the sun was beginning to get low in the sky. It was a sweet, summer night, early in August. I hope it doesn’t fall to the demise of disease or a chainsaw… at least in my lifetime. And I pray, every year, that nobody takes my tree down. So here I am, on one of my many walks, leading to the end of summer 2022. Its huge presence reminds me to return to my roots and remember who I am and what I stand for. All too familiar, but at times, so strange.įor me, the tree is grounding. I think about the tree that has watched me walk up and down this road for 47 Summers. As I weigh in on my life, children, family and friends, business, and relationships. ![]() I’m a bit more ponderous when I am alone on my walk. Give us some guidance, we ever so slightly whisper as we walk by. And we are still walking the old road by the lake.” It’s our way of saying, “We are here for another summer, tree. Sometimes we wonder if it doesn’t need a wake-up. When my sister and I walk together, we make it a point to say “hi,” to our tree and tap it for acknowledgment. The burdens I may still be carrying, the joys I am celebrating. On my summer-time walks, the tree gleans from where I was over the winter. It’s a tall pine that managed to avoid the clutches of the hurricane back in 1938 when so many of the big pines got blown down and, as a result, still sit at the bottom of the lake. The pine is not ancient in the way of trees. It sits vigilantly by the old road, at the lake. The big old pine has been with me my entire life. Here’s to catching up this week my friends! Run, Run, Run! Go home, get rid of yourself, daylight savings time. I reiterate: “Daylight savings time, I loathe thee.” Need I say more? How are you feeling this morning, daylight sa vings? And the reality is that when Monday morning comes I will feel like a freight train hit me. The kids get out of whack, and the animals don’t understand why their schedule is off. You make my life feel off until I can get to the next weekend to find time to catch up, on all the sleep you made me lose. The result of you is a week of dragging, more than my usual tired self around. Growing up I remember you, daylight savings time, falling on the last weekend of April. I must wake to darkness with no sun to shine to chase the sleep from my eyes.Īlthough it’s nice to have later light on the other end of the day, we were already making great progress in that area, why the need to expedite it even more? It’s not like it is nice enough outside to start mowing the lawn or doing yard work at night yet. Your presence means that I will wake up even more tired and grumpy than usual on a Monday morning.įrom my perspective, you mess everything up. You feel like an archaic institution that has not yet been thrown out.
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