Loss

I really hate that this blog has become an obituary for my farm.

"Charo was a good bunny. Not timid in the least, she was prone to clawing the crap out of the hand that fed her....died in the night...unknown causes...."

"Shelly Mamma was a sweet chicken. She always came when called, she used her nest for laying and did not deserve to be eaten by a 'coon..."

Since I last made an entry we have lost 3 of our meat chickens to heart attacks and Shelly Mamma to a racoon. We also lost our beloved Charo. And yes, she did claw the crap out of you if given the chance but dang, she was a pretty bunny. She was so pretty in fact, hubby and the man cub skinned her out, talking of all the beautiful bunny fur goodies they could make for their girls. Gross I know.


What the heck? I had great hopes of what a wonderful journal this would become. That I would look back years later and ponder over the loveliness of my early farm years. The prosperity. The wonderful memories.

Who am I kidding? I can only imagine all of the pioneer women snickering at me from heaven right now. "O' honey," they say " you have NO idea of the hardships involved in farming."


I feel like such a failure as a farmchick. I take every death personal. The death of animals and plants all rest heavy on my farmgirl shoulders. It is so very dissapointing to find this space so full of death and dying.