And he said, "Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked shall I return; the Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord" -- Job 1:21
In with the new. I want to put up some pictures of something cute to counteract the grim portrait of Juanita in a previous post. There's also a point to make here. Was I sad about Juanita's death? Sure. Maybe the better word is "disappointed"--frustrated that all my hard work had been so quickly and summarily snuffed out. But nothing more.
There's no time for sentimentality and weeping on the farm. Quite simply. there's too much to do. And I know well the bloody awfulness of Nature. I borrow from it what I can, and I'm not so vain as to presume to have any control.
Lastly, if daily existence on a farm can often seem like a gruesome circus, it also has a warm, exhilirating antipode.
Juanita's gone. But now this orphan calf needs some looking after. Maybe there are no fair trades in life and death, but this one is acceptable.
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