Change for Miss Molly

“The secret to working with a cow is to be more stubborn than she,” my brother told me as I headed out to the pasture for the first time to collect the family cow for milking.  We’ve had cattle on our place for as long as I can remember, but owning a milk cow takes the bovine and caregiver relationship to a whole new level.  Now, several years into this adventure I agree very much and add that kindness, and creativity go much farther than force.  

Lately I had reason to think of this advice again.  Spring is a time of change at Stoneybrook and one change is the accommodations for Miss Molly the milk cow and her calf.  Any time you change an animal’s routine you must endure a period of building a new normal.  If rules and fences are going to be pushed it will most likely happen during this uncomfortable space between yesterday’s routine and next week’s routine.  Because of this I dread the change from Molly’s winter barn to her summer pasture.

Molly had been begging to go to pasture some weeks before the move actually took place.  She’d hang longingly through the panels forming her enclosure for even a morsel of something green, and her milk production began going down dramatically.  Molly must remember the discomfort of change too though, because even after all her begging she balked at going into the trailer. It took one person pulling and three people pushing to make the leap. Much to my relief, once in her familiar place she went on as if nothing happened.  The next morning she placidly walked to the post where we milked last year and chewed her cud meditatively while we squatted in the dewy grass for the familiar milking routine. 

In contrast, Rusty, the current object of all Molly’s mothering, had no idea that such a thing as pasture existed.  Even so, he had no qualms about leaping into the trailer.  Once he found himself in grassy wide-open space he ran, and jumped, and showed all manner of calf-like expressions of joy.  Rusty has experienced the same routine for all of his young life.  He spends the day with his Momma, goes to bed in a different pen in the evening, and rejoins her for breakfast after we’ve taken our share from her generosity.  Rusty hasn’t ever cared for this routine and seemed to hope that change of location meant change of sleeping arrangements too.  He absolutely refused to go to bed that first night and broke out of the pen after we left. For the next few days he required several stubborn people and one stern looking cowdog to enforce the bedtime routine.

I must admit that I felt a sense of accomplishment yesterday when, as I called Molly up for supper, Rusty came running too.  Instead of fighting the routine, he trotted to the little walk through gate, waited patiently for me to open it, and walked through as if there was nothing he’d rather do.

What changed!?  First, I spent quite a few days luring Rusty in with treats.  He still has access to treats when he walks through the gate at bedtime though he usually thumbs his nose at them now. Rusty's community played a role too.  Molly supported my efforts to enforce the routine and had Rusty herded into the gate corner at least one evening.  Rusty also joins the “big boys” in the corral for the night now. This corral is home to one big bull, one almost big bull, two medium bulls, and a little bull.  Rusty wants to be a big bull very badly so he seems to feel grown up as he trots into the corral to add his tiny bull self to the mix. Finally, Rusty knows what to expect.  That uncomfortable period of change is over and we all rejoice.  This morning, as we finished milking, I looked over and saw Rusty waiting patiently by the gate, ears erect and little wet nose poking through the bars, ready for breakfast.

After all this, it really is no wonder that I’ve think about my own behavior during transition.

How do I engage the inevitable change that comes?  Do I beg and then balk?  Do I take what comes?

How do I weather the period of transition? Do I patiently work through the discomfort?  Do I make life difficult for those around me as I search for a new normal?

On whom do I rely in these times of change?  Who is my equivalent of Molly and the big bulls?

And a question that fits so many aspects of life: where are the places that force looks so tempting yet patient creative persistence does more to further the goal?

Flowers are blooming all over the place at Stoneybrook this time of year.  These Austrian Copper rose bushes are ones my great grandmother Edna planted long ago. They're too pretty not to share!

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You are welcome to visit us at Stoneybrook Farm. Rent Dot Cottage, a 133 square foot tiny house, and rest, reflect, or create in this beautiful place.

One night in the cottage is $100. Check-in time is 3pm, check- out time 1pm.  There will be a discount for multiple night stays.

 Dot Cottage is also available for day use: for $50 you can come as early as 8am and stay as late as 6pm.
 
Remember, you’re not just renting a bed or a space. Dot Cottage will be stocked with basic cooking supplies, and you’ll have access to seasonal farm fresh food!

 For questions or reservations please email: tinydotcottage@gmail.com

Spring!

Just when I thought spring had come to Stoneybrook a snowstorm blew in last night.  Wind gusts blew snow against my bedroom window and dusted growth from the spring bulbs with sprinkling of white.  The poor peacocks looked bedraggled as they flew down from their high roosting places and walked to breakfast holding tails high in an effort to keep them out of the mud. 

Meanwhile Dot Cottage sits with windows glowing with the light of the rising sun. Inside it’s cozy and warm thanks to the toasty stove.  Two spruce trees stand guard near the cottage, dark green boughs contrasting with the pale promise of new growth.  Overhead old elm trees stretch out their scraggly branches hospitably for the owls, peacocks, hawks, and a myriad of songbirds.

Spring is such a mixture of new life and remnants of the old life.  We prune the trees, shrubs, and roses; carefully choosing to leave that which will enhance life and cutting away that which will constrict.  We scrape away the old protective layer of last fall’s leaves, ever watchful for the new sprouts, which grow faster than one can imagine possible.  It seems that like the plants I, too, am fed by the rich earth, the generous spring rains, and the ever-strengthening sunlight. 

Dot Cottage is here.  A place prepared for you to come away and experience the gift of spring on the farm.  Come, rest close to the earth; listen to the joyous praises of the birds returning from their winter travels and the urgent operatic calls of the strutting peacocks.  Surreptitiously look for the patient owl on her nest, flanked by her ever-watchful mate.  Soak up the sun. Watch the green shoots emerge and the buds on the trees swell.

Come reflect; perhaps on what enhances life and what constricts life. Reflect on what is old and gone, and what is just now coming.  Reflect on how the sun, rain, and earth feed you too.

Come create; be inspired by all this springing up of new things.  Create a meal for yourself with the bounty of the greenhouse.  Bring a project that you’ve been craving to complete.  The possibilities are endless. Creativity and inspiration seem to belong with the bursting of spring. 

Dot Cottage is ready, small and homelike against the backdrop of the drama of the seasons. 

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The cost of renting Dot Cottage for one night is $100. Check-in time is 3pm, check- out time 1pm.  There will be a discount for multiple night stays.

 Dot Cottage is also available for day use: for $50 you can come as early as 8am and stay as late as 6pm.
 

Remember, you’re not just renting a bed or a space. Dot Cottage will be stocked with basic cooking supplies, and you’ll have access to seasonal farm fresh food!

 For reservations or questions please email: tinydotcottage@gmail.com