Tethered to the Temps: The Countdown Begins

   

     Tis the season for heat bulbs and blowers as I watch my broad brood of nannies waddle their way between walls and stalls in attempts to get comfortable for the night. Nothing cuter than jumping baby goats, though awaiting the the arrival of said kids is a tethering sport to say the least...
     The social life I once knew now dwindles to zilch, as leaving the premises on single digit nights can mean life or death to innocent newborns. For me personally,  I don't mind the solitude. (Trust me. No one can feel lonely in a place so teeming with life.) The barn itself exudes this warm orangey glow, partly from the lamps, yes, but more it feels, as if God herself sent a delivery blanket in advance to wrap the babies soon to enter this cold, cold world.
     In the quiet of these midnight hours I marvel ...
     Four big-hearted dogs to aid in my watch, I think back on their own arrival one year ago today, where once again I was hunkered down, same anxious energy, same freezing temps as if Rosey herself was whispering,  "Thankyouverymuch Mom, but I'LL be the one to decide just where I'll do my birth thing."  Birthing her babies in the throes of Al Roker's polar vortex, all 11 within a three-foot crawl space beneath my front porch (as opposed to inside where a warm and toasty bedspread-lined refrigerator crate could've graced a Martha Stewart make-over magazine)...well... it was my lesson to learn about love and life and releasing control in exchange for fully present.
     Minds of their own, each arriving pre-wired, these critters show up to make you smile...Today I watched a flat-footed Cupid suddenly topple straight over when the baby inside of her did a back flip without warning. Tonight it was Hix, head cocked in patient perplexity, waiting for his best bud Charlie to finish his cud full of hay (something Hix has yet to comprehend as a food substance, given its lack of flavor and proper texture). My little family of 20 (on the outside) is soon to expand, and with it, my heart.
     I bless each by name as my vigil begins...My weekend plans are booked and very simple to follow: pray without ceasing  --  my only charge...From here going forward, the only thing to consume my waking thoughts will be the safety of these mothers, the health of their babies and my new year's wish for more meaningful moments such as these that I live for, for they all serve to remind once again how very precious, how very sacred, how very fragile this thing called life.
     May we never take it for granted.
     Given the Christmas I've had, the losses I've grieved and the lessons I've learned in the year that was, I can honestly say I have never found such simple farm moments more meaningful. (For those seeking the same, I recommend it highly.)
     I welcome your prayers as well.