Thankful Morning: Rambling reflections on a week at the Ranch

This last Monday Dad, Mom, my two younger sisters and I drove up to our family ranch to be with my brother and grandparents and other extended family to harvest and store the hay.  While Dad, my brother, and youngest sister have driven giant tractors, I've learned how to cook meals for 10-14 people at a time, and have decided against ever cooking at a restaurant.  ;)

Camping, cooking, talking, being with little children, and a magical sunrise have made this a week I'm grateful for.


Tuesday night, my immediate family went camping for the first time ever as all six of us with our puppydog, Molly.  We were glad our cousin D. went with us (we consider him "another brother").  We camped in the same spot along Smith's Fork River that Dad and I camped at when I got home from India.  That night we made banana boats for the first time, and after dark we played Killer Bunnies under our tent lanturn.  I slept the best I ever have while camping, saw two shooting stars, and loved having Molly sleeping right in the middle of us.  In the early morning she had a big smile on her face and seemed to say she could get used to the whole experience.  :)

The next morning the cinnamon rolls we baked in orange halves turned out wonderfully (we used refrigerated tube cinnamon rolls instead of dressing up biscuits).  It didn't even matter that I'd forgotten to pack the eggs for our breakfast scramble.  :)

On Wednesday I got to spend ~three hours in the tractor with my big brother.  :)  He just returned home from a two-year proselyting mission, and the moments I've had with him have been precious.  As he hauled hay from the fields to stacking them, I was able to catch him up on some of what has happened in my life, and also able to soak in his stories and advice as I prepare to leave on my 18 month mission.

My five (and a half, as she'll tell you) year old cousin H. helped me make falafel and clean the kitchen.  As I held a can opener for her while she turned the crank, I was amazed to watch her use her tiny little hands and full upper-body strength to open a can in a two minute endeavor.  I was impressed by her determination to finish opening four cans when it took so much more effort for her than for me.

On Thursday evening my cousin A. and her two toddlers and baby arrived.  I waited with K. and N. for the  four-wheelers ("buggies") to be available for an evening ride as A. took care of her baby.  I was touched as, with nothing but the recommendation of their mother, the kids trusted me immediately.  With an earnest face, K. asked me "Did you know there is an old baler?  Can I show you?"  And his small, soft hand took mine and he led me to the square baler, and in a soft, subtle voice that never stopped flowing he systematically told me what the parts of the baler did, including that the shaft connected to the tractor turns and spins to push hay into the baler and out the other side.  I was in awe.

On the buggie, K.'s sister N. laughed and giggled whenever we went over a large bump.  K. held my arms tightly, and continued to talk to me and ask lots of questions.

On Friday morning, I was semi-awake when I heard a door open and nearly slam shut, and tiny feet pitter-pound on the floor, the stair gate open, and K.'s voice as I would expect to hear him on Christmas morning, "I'm going to ride the baler [a tractor] today!  I'm going to ride the baler today!"  :)  :)  :)

I've interacted with little children more in the past two days than I have in about eight years.  Farm chores and a plugged toilet respectively prevented and scarred baby-sitting experiences, and now I find myself in awe and delighting in these little people who are so full-of-life and questions.  I'm grateful I could talk to A. about what being a mother has meant to her.    

I spent another two hours with my brother, as he worked in Grandma's art room on a stain glass window project.  I love his gentle advice and keen discernment.  I love and look up to him so much.

Last night two more cousins and their young families arrived, bringing five more little bodies into the ranch house.  :)

This morning I woke up and realized I could watch the sun rise.  I've never appreciated the process before!  Red light banded on the horizon.  Orion's stars shone brighter.   Clouds that had been indiscernible were brought out of darkness.  Orion's right foot faded as the light increased and expanded to include orange and yellow bands.  Orion faded faster as green light increased.  The silhouette of the pine tree in front of my window changed from black to showing the green needles.  Moments after the clouds became more brilliant pink and purple, the birds decided they had permission to go about their day.  Grandpa's nemesis, the blue heron, flew over by the pond.  The sandhill cranes sounded their gorgeous rolling call (you can listen to it here), and swallows chirped and thrilled.

I realized Chappie, my cousin's black puppydog, was making rustling sounds downstairs, and went outside with him.  I sat on the front porch swing wrapped in the quillow given to me by Grandma P.

I heard deep humming, and saw a female hummingbird visiting all the anise hyssop flowers I planted in my grandma's perennial garden.  The hummer flew up and down, positively delighted, and then she flew right up to me, 18 inches away!!!  I was in awe.  It was like she was thanking me!

She left, and then I heard the sandhills call, and saw them in front of the ranch house!  After singing to each other, they jumped around and danced.  They called again and were answered by another distant pair.  They called back and forth for a minute, then continued their elegant stroll.

I knew the sun was almost up because red light intensified around one horizon area.  The clouds became fired by orange and gold.  And then the sun came up!  The band was intense, but I didn't want to look away. I sang the first verse of "How Great Thou Art".  Too soon, the entire shining sun was above the horizon, and colors had given way to blues.

I learned a few things this morning.  When I let go of unreasonable or unnecessary expectations (such as a Hollywood sunrise and a pre-determined timetable) and decided to see what happens, I was able to notice and enjoy the process.  I was more willing to step out of my comfort zone into the chilly morning, and was blessed with tender, light-and-life-filled moments.

I've decided to let some things be.  I won't be able to accomplish everything I had wanted to get done before leaving on my mission, but I can choose to enjoy the next five and a half weeks instead of giving way to stress.  I will be able to get the most important things done.  :)

I am grateful.