Well. This isn’t Oz. And I’m not Dorothy. That’s for dang sure.
In fact, this isn’t Kansas either. In those places, you hear things like “Lions, and Tigers, and Bears. Oh my.” And you see Ruby Slippers and Wicked Witches on brooms, taking to the sky.
But no. Not here. No how.
We are in Camden. Not the one in England. Not New Jersey. Camden, as in
Ohio.
You see, here in Camden, it is a little bit of heaven on earth. I kid you not. And. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. At least, that is what I thought this evening as I walked up one of our paths. It was warm, and sunny, and we had company. As it turns out… it is permanent company.
The chickens were first on the scene.
Then, came the geese.
And today, the goats arrived. Baby goats.
You are more likely to hear the chorus….., Chickens, and Geese, and Goats. Oh my.
And certainly you will see black rubber farm boots. The kind Mrs. Tweedy wears.
But before I go any further, let me remind you of my background. I am a City Girl by birth. Dayton, Ohio, just a few miles north of downtown. I went to school downtown. We walked by the hookers on the corner of Ludlow, and stepped over drunks on the front steps, just to get into the school building. That kind of city.
My exposure to things of nature was limited at best. Any drive through the country on the way to some far off place… brought no connection between my ears. I might see a cow, and of course, know it was a cow. But that was where the thought process stopped. I did not associate people, somewhere, taking care of that cow. At best, I equated the sighting to hamburgers and steaks.
Farm life was not something I considered, contemplated, or imagined. For me, or anyone else.
Now. I say, welcome to Camden. Ohio. Home of the chickens, the geese, and the goats. All of them brave.
Today, Mary picked up two girl goats, and three babies. We have named the babies… Andy, Claude, and Izzy.
The big girls are getting new names. Brownie and Sheba won’t do. Those names were big mistakes, given to them by their former humans.
Now we have a little bit of adaptation to go through. An adjustment period, for all involved.
Our geese…. our sweet, sweet geese… do not like the fact that the goats approach me. Not one bit.
Oh, I could tell you a hundred cute little stories about the “all” of them. And I’m sure over the next few months, you’ll probably be hearing them.
But the thing that struck me tonight, as I walked up that path… was that I felt very grateful for where I am right now, in my very existence. In this very being. I had an overwhelming feeling of gratitude. I feel so very fortunate, blessed, lucky. Whatever it is you want to call it.
Yet, not in my craziest, wildest dreams.. could I ever have imagined this existence when I was growing up a City Girl. Heck, even five years ago… I could not have envisioned what is here right now. Today.
So many of us spend a lot of time worrying about the future. What will happen? How will we do this… or that? What if this occurs? I am the Poster-Child for the worries of the future… and past.
But the point of it is. We can never know. WE don’t know. The only thing we have is each moment. Not 50 years from now. Not 50 minutes from now. We just have “now.”
So. I’m off to do another lap around the kitchen island… marching my feet in my best marching style … … and singing at the top of my lungs… “Chickens. And Geese. And Goats. Oh my.” That’s where I am. Right now.
“The greatest mistake you can make in life is to be continually fearing you will make one.” – Elbert Hubbard