Breakfast, scrambled with spam on tortilla, this morning...just for a change...maybe go back to 'spam on scrambled tomorrow, you know...scramble the words for a little breakfast delight. The kids don't care. They look like a couple little zombies at the table anyway. They stay up too late. It's not, as if, we haven't told them a thousand times..."Go to bed...you got school tomorrow". It's especially problematical on Monday's..."Get The F**k UP!" We hear a couple of 'thumps' from the bedroom area, signifying...dad's last resort 'crudeness' still works it's charm, and the farm day begins for us.
Thank God we don't have heavier animals...yet! We are new to farming. It's what we always wanted. Now we got it. Shit! Who invented alarm clocks? WHO invented roosters, the teenage ones, most notoriously...who still have to clear their throat, to find their cock..er, voice...you understand? If you are a farmer...I bet you do. We got it easy. Dairy farmers are up at 3 A.M. What they are doing with a cow in a barn at 3 A.M., I have no idea, but...'cowpoke' comes to mind.
I check everybody...counting chickens, rabbits, ducks...all fur and feather accounted for...suns still not up. Dogs pee'd, pooped and 'treated'. They loves their treats...they love's to sniff the birds...oh, if they could just get in there to the farm version of 'meals on wheels'. I call them in...I start the truck, warm it up...cook breakfast, say 'grace'...count the clock...their mother is getting them into 'matching socks...teeth washed, showers...when needed, usually needed...and off we go, for the school bus stop.
Five minutes, and they're on the bus, and a hearty hi oh Silver...away! The sun is just crack'n the 'gunsight' feature on Florida Mountain. I drive back to the farm, wife meets me with the mail I forgot to mail...I return to mail it.
Ten minutes later, I am in the livestock enclosure. I look in on the Ducks...here is 'Wattle' on his back, tail aimed at the sun, you know...doing his 'morning worship'...I didn't know ducks did that. He's still doing it, when I reach in the cage to check the water. I think there's something, the matter. I lift 'wattle' over...he has a shit hemorrhage...almost. He was just obeying his morning constitutional...until I effed it up. Live and learn.
I open the doors on the cages...ducks, chickens...everybody out! The 'pecking order' begins...chickens in ducks faces, ducks in chickens faces...swiping each others food and water...understandings ironed out..."Just share" I urge..."Be Buddhist's", I reiterate..."Peace!" All little black eyes look up at me...the ducks hit the pond...in 10 seconds, it's a shithole...reminding me of many California beaches, or house parties, after the snacks are gone.
Took all the wet tarps off the cages...sun now well up...everybody happy...I come in, write this, with a cup of hot coffee...happy...ahhh, and this is our little 'funny farm', just an hour in the life of it.
Buddha's Peace to you.
Written By Bruce James Clyde 2016 Deming, New Mexico
Photo Credit: Bruce Clyde, Buddha's Peace
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