Living in the Moment
When Daddy moved us to our first farm during my youth , we made our new home in a small, white, story and a half farmhouse near the small town, Buford, Ohio. I was four. We originally had milk cows, the black and white Holsteins that came with his dairy farm purchase. Milking everyday, two times each day became "a drag", Daddy said, and milk prices were plummeting, so he sold those cows and decided to buy a herd of beef cows.For his new herd, he chose the White-Faced Polled Hereford as shown in this lovely photo my friend Lisa shared with me, of her grandparents herd in West Virginia.
This photo stirred up many memories of days gone by when I fell in love with those white- faced cows Daddy bought us. I loved everything about being on the farm and especially the animals and nature. I still do. I remember there seemed to be something magical to me about those white-faced cows. Their eyes where big and blue. Their eyelashes were remarkably long and their breath smelled good. Often times we would greet each other by touching noses and inhaling and exhaling. Their smell was good, their noses moist.
One life lesson I learned from the farm was not only that Big Red didn't like to have someone on her back, but when she was showing signs of calving; the first cow that I was schooled by Mom to the signs of eminent birth: swelling, discharge, agitation, separation. "She'll have it tonight," she said matter-of-fact. So we penned her up in the make shift stall in the pole barn for safe keeping.
Back then and still today, I am always intrigued with the miracle of birth. To think a calf was living inside her large abdomen was exciting enough for a seven year old, but I hoped I might get to see it being born. I couldn't stay awake though, but I did make several, scary trips to the barn, in the dark, with a flashlight.
Her baby- face was whiter than snow. Her clean, red fur, slightly curly was soft as cotton. A her, I learned was called a heifer and a him was called a bull. Farmer terminology 101.
She was the cutest newborn I had ever seen, especially when she would run and jump and then come over to check me out. When she would nurse, I thought it so cute that she had bubbles frothing from her mouth. I would get right up beside her and watch intently. And one day, I too tested the milk by squirting it straight into my mouth for a taste. Yep. It was good. Real good.
And then, when she was tired after her tummy was full, she would gingerly lie down in the straw and tuck her head toward her tummy. I didn't want to leave just yet, so I too, would lie down next to her and snuggle, so loving my life on the farm. Big Red didn't mind my company either. She just stood chewing her cud, eyes half closed. And at that moment, I was truly living in the moment as kids most generally do, and all was well with the world.
So Here's the Thing: Living in the moment, like a curious kid, and sucking up all the details with no distractions, is the best moment of the day. Pause soon and suck up one of those "living in the moment, moments." Let me know what your moment was.