Christmas Eve morning was spent treating a long-time customer, who also happens to be Rustic Russ’ best ongoing customer, Bob and his visiting family of 12-ish, to dog sled rides.
As I was preparing for the company to arrive, I wondered where Rustic Russ had gone off to. Finally, I viewed him walking down our long driveway, heading back to the kennel and cabin. It wasn’t until later I realized he got artistic with the cans of spray paint left over from summer projects.
Bob and his family arrived and were excited about their Christmas Eve dog sled rides. So were the dogs!
Especially our prized leader Ranger.
After everyone had a ride, or two, the Weldon family said thank you and goodbye and headed home for further holiday celebrations.
We went in to dry off and get prepared for our planned afternoon. We were both heading out together for the first of the holiday get-togethers with family.
When it came time to leave, Rustic Russ ended up heading south, solo, to visit with his son Steven for the afternoon and early evening. I ended up staying home, holding down the fort. I’m not a good traveler in snowy weather ~ a wimpy woodswoman to be sure. I will see Steven in a couple weeks and hopefully make it up to him then. My staying home also allowed Rustic Russ more time for a visit, as the animals would be fed on time. This is a good thing.
Being home alone, without Rustic Russ being here is rare and precious. I can count the times he leaves our place on one hand. Only certain events and/or people have the magnetism to pull him away.
Years ago, BFA (before farm animals), he would leave to head up to the Hardman or Warren cabin with most of the dogs, leaving me home to tend to the remainder. Farm animals, along with our lack of desire to race, put an end to the need to train in the UP.
We stay in the LP. At home. Below the Bridge ~ simple trolls.
While Rustic Russ is gone, I am in charge. I like that feeling.
Feeding time becomes my responsibility. I watch the clock. At the stroke of 4:00 p.m., I begin, just as Rustic Russ would do. First the cows, then the horses, then the dogs. Then the humans.
Dragging the bucket-lined red sled behind me, I head to the feed shed to fill up the coffee can with sweet feed for the cows. One each. Glancing over, I see their heads peeking over the side of the fence, impatient at my ineffective movements. Before giving them their feed, I take the pitchfork and gather up a big forkful of loose hay in our barn shelter and trudge over to where they are waiting patiently. I create three piles of hay in which to place the grain upon. Then comes the chewing and licking.
While leaning on the fence and watching them eat, I look out beyond their paddock into the woods. So beautiful, so white, so winter. This time of day brings the sweet light ~ that light during the early morning and late afternoon that is like no other. If you are a photographer, you know about the sweet light. Perhaps this is why farmers like to feed during these hours. They are magical. Sacred.
The smell of the hay and sweet grain punctuates the coolness of the air. D2, realizing I was going to stay for a moment, came over and rubbed his horned head on my gloved hands. His growing horns appreciate a good rub down. He also enjoyed licking the texture of the gloves, and smelling and licking my ungloved hands. Father, Dudley, not so much. Upon smelling my offered hand, he gestures his disapproval by shaking his head and making a stance as if to ready himself for a head butt. I back down and give him his due. I don’t mess with bulls ~ ever.
While standing there enjoying the sounds and smells of cows, I conjure up the image of the stable where Joseph and Mary stayed on this night, so many years ago, waiting for the birth of their baby, Jesus. Closing my eyes, I can picture the scene…the warm air exhailed by the animals close by, the smell of the hay mixing with the smell of grains, ruminants chewing their cud. Joseph waiting, worrying. Mary patient, knowing.
Mary would be giving birth to the Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of Peace. She knew… There is no doubt she knew. But some would wonder…Did Mary Know? Click here.
Mark Lowery wrote the lyrics for that beautiful song. Buddy Greene wrote the amazing instrumental.
Hearing “Mary Did you Know?” takes me back to our United Methodist Church service years ago in Petoskey when my young golfer son, Mark, played a drum set to this Christmas favorite, accompanying a singing duet.
Buddy Greene will be coming to Mackinac Island this coming May for the Win-Some Women’s conference. I will be there too. This will be the third time I have seen Buddy perform and have experienced the excitement only Buddy can bring to the stage. As I recall, Dee Dee Jonrowe shared billing with Buddy one year while I attended. Double the excitement indeed.
So many promises for the new year. But for now we will sit back and enjoy this time for reflection.
Merry…
Christmas…
From the sled dogs at LCK along with the critters at Russ-Stick Acres.
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Good Night!
Woodswoman
