This post has absolutely nothing to do with the Thanksgiving holiday coming up.
And then, it has everything to do with it.
That wasn’t my intent this afternoon.
Its not really my style and we sometimes don’t even celebrate because Canadian Thanksgiving was last month and often we aren’t even together for the holiday.
Its because I’m thankful that Steve started.
There’s more to the story.
You see, I woke up at 5:38am to the sound of Sport, our Siamese cat, puking on our bedroom carpet.
I have always said I’d make a million bucks if I knew how to design an alarm clock that sounded like a cat barfing. Nothing gets me out of bed faster than that.
So it was a bit of an early, bleary start but the sun was out.
My freshly tanned-in-Hawaii body got a shock last week when we suddenly got a frigid blast of winter. It was expected and all but, damn, it has been cold.
Continuing on with my stellar morning, the big tractor’s battery was completely dead (surprise!) and I had to feed horses who are in separate pastures because 2 of them won’t cross the creek and its not like I can force them because they are kind of big so its obviously going to require me to bond with those damned square bales again.
If Steve starts.
Steve is our Ranger.
He is, at times, my savior.
If he starts.
You see, the shit usually hits the fan when Alistair is on his 2 weeks of working in North Dakota.
Its at those times I need something like Steve to rely on.
That’s when I get tractors or trucks stuck or the hot water tank dies or horses founder or animals get sick or guinea pigs lose eyeballs or ferrets break their pelvises or Loki’s cornea gets ulcerated or there’s angry wasps getting caught in my hair stinging the bejeezus out of me.
Times like now when I know that disgusting deer leg is still on the driveway.
I’m not sure who dragged it home but every day its a battle to see which dog is going to get it.
Its gross but I’ve thrown it out twice now and both times garbage cans have been knocked over to retrieve it so I’m just letting them go with it.
I’m especially allowing old Casey to have his fun.
He’s had a couple of weird episodes this past week where I’m not sure what was going on.
It seemed like none of his limbs would work.
He never lost consciousness but he did seem confused both times it happened and he either fell or slowly laid down for close to a minute.
Then he gets up and he’s good to go.
As a veterinarian, I’m thinking it could be little strokes or little seizure events, neither of which are good when they come on in a 13 year old Labrador.
As a Mummy, I’m totally freaking out.
But he has been fine the past few days so I’m trying to be fine.
And then Mulder’s sometimes-wheeze has really picked up the past week.
To the point where it wakes me up and it sounds like he’s coughing up a wet lung.
The veterinarian in me thinks its a nasty return of his herpesvirus complicated by bacteria or it could really be something in his lungs because maybe he is sleeping a bit more lately.
The Mummy in me is panicking and feeling completely helpless that I can’t fix what is wrong.
But maybe the clindamycin I started is helping and maybe I can get to town where a friend can xray him for me.
And then Steve starts.
On a clear crisp morning when I simply must get hay to the horses in their various fields Steve fired right up.
Which I was so thankful for.
And then I came inside to put jeans on (square bales require leg contact for little girls and yoga pants just don’t cut it) and I got rummaging around in my old “farm jeans” pile and found a pair from about 10 years ago.
And they fit!
The world can be falling apart around me but if an old pair of jeans fits and I didn’t have to lay on the bed to get them on and I can breathe comfortably wearing them, its a good day.
I’m not quite as vain as that but it did make me smile.
And I got thinking of all the things I am truly thankful for while driving Steve and the hay bales out to the horses.
I’m so thankful we have all these merry misfit animal companions and that we have shared many wonderful years together.
Thankful that they seem to love us and want to be with us whenever they can, even if that means getting a king sized bed for everyone.
I’m thankful to even have sun-kissed skin from a wonderful recent vacation to the Hawaiian islands.
I’m thankful to have my education and brain to fall back on and keep me grounded when Casey, Mulder, Boomer and Loki might need it.
They need my sensibility more than I need to freak out so I have to be calm for them and try to figure out what they need.
I’m very thankful that I had the patience and knowledge to work with little Loki’s seriously damaged cornea over the past few months.
Thankful for connections with talented veterinary friends who were able and willing to help when I wasn’t sure we would be keeping her eye.
Thankful that Loki lets me continue to put drops in and that finally, I do believe we are keeping the eye.
I’m thankful for the support and encouragement from friends and family for my fun book that has been such a unique journey! Thankful for small bookstores who support first-time novelists and those of us who self publish.
And I’m thankful for my amazing husband, Alistair, who somehow trusts me on this big farm with big machines and big responsibilities.
The fact he somehow believes the house will still be standing and we will hopefully all be alive when he returns every 2 weeks amazes me.
And fills me with love.
So even if winter comes on suddenly or the tractor won’t start or the horses won’t cross the creek or that deer limb is still there or Sport barfs on the carpet or its so cold my face hurts or my boots leak or Alistair is in Bismarck, I’m still okay.
My jeans fit. I still have a bit of a tan.
I’m alive and able to toss hay bales.
Amazon shows one more book sale over the weekend and I’ve started the sequel.
Alistair is only an email or a facetime away.
Casey, Loki, Mulder and the gang are all pain free and pretty happy.