Officially A Farmer's Wife
I handed George his steaming coffee, swept Hannah onto my hip, grabbed my cup of Joe and headed out the door behind George. We were heading out for a sweet Sunday morning stroll around the farm.
The gardens are bursting with greens and squash and beans and lettuce, the sweet baby pigs are quite entertaining, and it’s October in Florida in the morning – cool, bright, and free from suffocating humidity. It is sweet to be together and take in this place we love.
Hannah was happy in the stroller. I was holding my coffee close breathing in sweet cool air and talking to baby girl and baby pigs. Suddenly, George grabbed a piglet by the hind legs, lifted it over the fence and held it out to me with directions to place it in a pen 30 yards away.
Well, that was that. We were moving pigs. These piglets are not tiny. They are dense, muscular, hefty, packed, fifteen pound wiggly squealing creatures that DO NOT WANT TO LEAVE THEIR MAMAS! And, 30 yards isn't close under these circumstances.
The sacred coffee is gone. Holding a squealing piglet upside down is happening. With my arms perpendicular to my body, I start walking. My heart is pounding out of my chest. The squealing breaks the sound barrier I’m sure. George Wilder says it makes him sweat. EXACTLY. I lift it up and over into the new pin and head back just as George swings another one over the fence for me to transport across the yard.
Three pigs later, my arms are shaking uncontrollably, I’m out of breath, and I’m covered in mud. Apparently I have not been taking time to work out my pig lifting and moving muscles.
It’s Sunday. It’s time for church. Right now. I jump in the shower to at least get the mud off my legs, throw on a dress and pull my hair in a clip and put on some fancy earrings to cover it all up and out the door we go. And all of the children were dressed but that is about all I am sure of.
I think George has learned that if I think about things for too long, I rationalize and vacillate and don’t really want to do the scary new different thing. He has also learned that if he just walks me right into it, I’ll do it. I’ll cuss and kick and scream and then love that I did it.
It’s official. I'm a farmer’s wife.
There were no pictures of this episode, but George Wilder and Amelia were moving some later in the day so to give you an idea, here they are.