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Spelled my name right….
…but not too many people have noticed my “Zen-like” serenity. http://www.leesburgtoday.com/more_a/middleburg_life/reporting-from-the-front-lines-of-buy-local-beef/article_a48716e8-f436-11e4-994b-eba584b20713.html
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Hooray for spring break….
….increasingly we plan our calendar around grandson Church’s school breaks. He can do anything Grandpa ever did…and better. He’s always loved the farm but now his physical ability is catching up with his enthusiasm. On this Spring Break he eschewed the usual Florida getaway of many college students….even a vacation in Sicily….to give us a hand at Thistle Hill. The chores including fence and gate repair, putting out minerals, seeding a recently reclaimed wooded area for pasture (it had grown over with scrub trees), and most important sorting and preg checking cows, then bringing in the bulls. It was a full week of work for a “vacation”. And I’ve by…
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The Thistle Hill mob….
….well the follow-on generations….grandchildren and great-grandchildren. We get together every Christmas Eve though it becomes harder and harder with significant others and their competing schedules. This year four grandchildren were AWOL but it is still a fair-sized crowd to feed. (Our children made for eight more but they were out of camera-range.)
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Stocking up….
….grandson Luis has been here for the past few days and, of course, everyone is put to work so I can supervise. Here Luis is emptying bags of bass, blue gill and koi into our pond. At the fish hatchery where we picked up the young ones, Luis got impatient that nothing was biting at the Zett’s pond near Inwood, West Virginia, and simply put his hand down in the water and grabbed a catfish almost two feet long. Other chores he handled without a fuss: bringing in some cows so we could collect tail hairs for DNA, feeding the pigs, and repairing a gate. And mowing, lots of mowing. Fortunately…
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More excitement at Thistle Hill….
…but nothing to do with calving. Grandson Church was graduated this weekend from Woodbury Forest high school. (All the graduates lit up cigars at the end of the ceremony.) Grandma Wooz managed not to go all blubbery and you know how grandmothers are about their first grandson! We’ve been fortunate that Church, a Texan, chose to attend a high school in Virginia. He’s not only great company, he’s a great help at the farm, spending holiday weekends and vacations with us. This weekend we put him right to work spraying microbes on our pastures. Unfortunately, we’ll lose him now to Dennison College in Ohio. Someday, though, this farm will be…
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All in the family….
….keeping with the theme of the earlier post. Our “big city” nieces are a delight: pretty, smart, and lots of fun. Keira’s 2nd grade project was to report on someone who is a Community Helper….and I am proud to say she chose a farmer. Actually, specifically her Uncle Dave! Sister Quinn is the other half of this “dynamic duo”. I won’t say it’s been a long time since we’ve seen them, but it was back when I had hair!
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Speaking of summer camp….
….as I was earlier (scroll down)….our grandson Luis won the fishing championship at camp this summer with this 5-pound large mouth bass. His buddies nicknamed it “The Monster”. Luis has been fishing since he was a toddler. In fact, during the annual family football game he prefers to fish in the pond near the field. Too bad, I think he’s built like a future line backer. Do they give college scholarships for fishing?
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The Thistle Hill girls are all happy….
….starting with Wooz. Grandson Church is back from his “gig” in Idaho working for “pasture wizard” Jim Gerrish. Wooz was worried about her little grandbaby with a thousand Angus after dealing with no more than a handful of our docile Devon. Not to worry, of course. Church was even the lone hand on the ranch for stretches while Jim was away speech-a-fying. The cows were happy Church was back, too. He seems to have the same “touch” his uncle has. We seldom pet our cows, but they immediately come close to win his scratches.
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You’re so vain….
….oh, alright, but hear me out. Several years ago, I was so crippled up I walked bent over like an old man and I hurt all the time. Thanks to a physical therapist and her staff in nearby Warrenton—plus an improved diet and plenty of red wine—I snapped out of it. The therapist’s name is Kendal Blaser and she is not only an exceptionally talented professional, she is one of the most delightful women I’ve ever met. So Kendal was working on her website with a professional photographer and wanted me to pose as one of her success stories. The deal was, I got some of the pictures and this is…
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Do future cowboys like to smell flowers?
Great-grandson Rowan does! Two years and change now. Enjoy the “single-kid life” while you can son. A baby brother is breathing down your neck!