Broken seems like an apt title for tonight’s post. I’m sitting here waiting to hear from my wife who is in the hospital getting exrays to see how bad she broke her ankle. She was moving chicks from the brooder to the coop and slipped in the doorway of the barn. It looks awful. Of course she wouldn’t listen to me and go straight to the emergency room, she had to call our friend Pat to be sure it was broken. I guess I would trust a nurse’s opinion over a dirt farmers on medical stuff too, but still… When your damn leg looks like a Z and has a knot the size of a goose egg it’s friggin broken. Anyway, Pat and I got her loaded in the car and they headed to the emergency room and I stayed here to take care of the kids, feed and water the stock and cook supper. Worried. Wish she was home already. 

I was on the porch talking to my friend Jason and heard Lily screaming “mommy fell, daddy! Mommy fell, come quick”. My first thought was she had another seizure so I hung up and ran like hell. She was hurting bad by the time I got there which was probably less than a minute after she fell. She’s tough. As soon as she saw Lily getting upset she had to “cowboy up” and pretend she was fine do she wouldn’t scare her. I sure wish she would call. I’m not good at waiting. 

Broke. Because I had a slow week at work and have several bills I have to pay that won’t wait. The past few weeks I’ve been gone all week, but not making any money. I’m not downing the job, it’s just the way it is, some weeks are great and some weeks suck. This was just a bad week. Sorta expected it this time of year though. But the bills still have to get paid. I guess we will have to sell some stuff, but that’s ok too. At least we have stuff to sell. 

 I have to get this farm going somehow but with no money to buy supplies, materials and such I don’t know how I’ll get it done. But I will. Because it’s who I am. And with all my faults I’m damn sure not a quitter. 

Broken. Because of me. The stroke. This week was so tough. For those who don’t know I had a stroke a couple of years ago in Florida. It seems I got lucky and had no lasting physical damage but I lost large chunks of my memory. I can remember some stuff, but other events, months, years…they are just… Gone. This week sucked because it seemed all week long people were talking about stuff I don’t remember and also, I ran into an old friend from years ago that mentioned people I don’t even know. I nod and smile, but inside I’m panicking thinking “what do I say? Why don’t I remember?” Sometimes I feel there is a memory just beyond my grasp and it is so frustrating. 

On the good side, the nightmares stopped after the stroke, so I guess I lost some of the bad memories too. Now I read over the stories of my childhood and my teens and twenties and it’s just stories. 

But life goes on. 

We turned our black Giants and the rose comb reds out today to free range. We’ve got orloffs and more giants still in the outdoor brooder. Em has a few of her show ducks hatched out and our first pheasants of the year are in the brooder. I wanted to plant more in the garden today but couldn’t find a tiller to borrow. Maybe tomorrow. 

Now I’m going to get the kids ready for bed and straighten up the house a bit and pray everything turns out ok. 


Mother’s Day Gift To My Wife


When you wake in the morning babe, it will be Mother’s day. That special day set aside to honor all Mothers, and God knows you deserve my honor and respect.

You are a great Mom and a wonderful wife. You get up at dawn, feed and change the baby, help get the girls off to school, go out and milk the cow, bring the milk in and strain it. You clean and sterilize all the equipment then get Con up, change him and get him dressed and then cook breakfast. You cook our supper and be sure and take care of all of us in the evenings and somehow find time during the day to feed all the critters, take care of the kids, clean the house, do laundry, list and sell all our farm products and a hundred other things you think no one ever notices.


I notice.


I want to get you the things you deserve. I really do Babe. You deserve nice things. But we are poor. I work hard, but this weeks check won’t even cover half the bills that are due. So no fancy candy, no beautiful cards, no nice meal at a sit down restaurant, and none of the other things I want so bad to be able to do for you.

All I can give you is the things I have.


I give you these hands. Rough, scarred, knotted and usually dirty. But they work hard for you. Every day. And will work for you and the kids as long as I can draw a breath.

I give you these knees. The first area to wear out on my old jeans. Whether kneeling in prayer or crawling down the rows in the garden weeding, these knees are yours.

This old gray head. Constantly thinking ahead, trying to figure out ways to make our life better.

These shoulders. Here to lean on no matter what life throws at us. A place to lay your head every night and wide enough to carry the burdens I try to save you from.

These arms that hold you when you need a hug, that wrap around you and protect you from harm.

This back that gets up when someone threatens our family and that is strong enough to keep fighting when it’s against the wall.

This heart of mine. It’s been broken and its been hurt, but you have healed it and it’s yours. It’s full of love for you and always will be.

I can’t give you much Babe.

All I can give you is me.

Happy Mother’s day my love.