On Father’s Day

All things being equal, I can’t let this beautiful sun set without mentioning the father of the house. I will however, knowing my farmer, save his readily available blushes and won’t gush too much about him. Instead, I’ll tell you that we took our newest son on our camino to Sallies today in the blissful sunshine and he was beaming.

Nothing fazes the man, not hormonal wife nor beast, not impending silage cut or cross toddler. He is our constant when the rest of us are melting down at various stages of the post-partum day.  When we’re crying, roaring for milk, cursing at stitches, fighting over toys; he remains calm. He helps us recover, in his calmness, taking a walk (a first for our youngest) and so led us gently into familiar surroundings, walking out around the farm, our home. He carried our young baby who is not overly fond of his pram, cajoled a toddler to keep going on his bike and soothed a wife who is sore and war weary.  That the day might come when he might get some rest! Yes, he is our constant; We are safe with him, he is home.

For my Dad and yours. And then, for our farmer.

 

 

 

 

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