Sometimes I can’t help but be awestruck. And laugh my head off.
Today I looked out the living room window. There was my 10 year old and his cousin, who’s the same age – moving a cow. This wasn’t simple herding though. Please picture two boys, replete with summertime mohawks, white herding poles in hand, shirtless, in shorts, one in crocs, one wearing knee high, black mud boots. They lacked the hurry that knowing the direction you are headed generally prescribes. They were half following the milk cow over to the barn, half talking to each other, and half herding. When I looked, she had quickly altered course in the front yard so that she could munch on some grass nearby.
Andrew, who’s six, stood in the yard, aimlessly watching this operation, eating an apple. When the cow turned his direction, he bravely stepped in front of the grass patch, waved his apple and stared her down. Undeterred, she simply walked right next to him and put her head down to eat. Accepting life, Andrew turned away to follow suit and finish his apple.
After laughing, it hit me. We really have farm kids. These boys have a life that most of us only dream of now, as grown ups. It’s going to be hard to top their childhood. And it’ll pay off – I hope. Someday, this will all sink in to their growing minds and they’ll end up as stout, kind, brave, loving men. Well, that or they’ll just wander off in the woods one day in search of their tribe.
A Guide To Food And Farming In Middle Tennessee
Spring 2013