SPOTLIGHT ON BUZZ GUEST SANDRA MACLEAN! POET, REIKI MASTER AND CHAKRADANCE FACILITATOR. #herefordfarm
My BUZZ GUEST today is poet, Reiki Master, and Chakradance facilitator SANDRA MACLEAN.
You may remember Sandra from my Mothers Day Blog when she shared about the matriarchs in her family and the spiritual impact they had on her life. Today she is sharing about her experience of having grown up on a Hereford farm.
This is the farm Sandra grew up on.
Growing up on a farm had its trials and tribulations along with some great times and wonderful experiences. I was almost nine when we moved here from the city. The best move my parents could have ever made.
My father was a high school teacher. Teaching welding, plumbing and auto mechanics. That was his full time job. Ha! The farm was his full time job as well.
Approximately 70 of the 115 acres was rented out as cash crops. The rest was bush, pasture for our 40 head of Hereford cattle (along with a few horses), and a play land for us. Oh the stories I could tell.
So I will start with this one. Speaking of cows, we always had a bull around. For the most part it was never an issue being around them. However, one day I was in amongst the herd (wearing a red shirt) when I realized our bull was charging at me. So, I started running.
As fast as I could towards the barb wire fence. Four strands across made up the fence and I dove, face down, between the second and third strands. As I was going through them I managed to turn so I was face up. Tore my jeans in the process. (Barely a scratch on me). Whew!
And that bull stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he saw the fence. He must have had an experience with barb wire before. Lol. Not sure what triggered the chase.
It does put me in mind of another story where Dad was scratching one on his back. Dad stopped and the bull got ornery. He was alright as long as you were scratching but don’t you dare stop. Maybe he was the same bull that chased me.
Lorne MacLean, Sandra’s dad scratching said bull.
One of my favourite parts of the farm was when the cows calved. They were so cute when they were first born. So clean. The white was so bright. And they were sooo shiny.
One memory of a particular calf comes to mind. He was born in the back pasture. He was the first of twins. Twins! His mother however left him to birth his sister at the front of the pasture (which was a fair distance away) then never bothered going back for him.
My dad tried bringing him to his Mom but she disowned the poor little fellow. She wouldn’t have anything to do with him. So having another cow who lost her calf as an option for him, Dad tried to get her to take him. That didn’t work either.
What now? Well feed him ourselves. Feed him we did. A special formulas mixed in a 1.5 litre pop bottle and this gigantic black nipple on the end. It was the most fun thing ever.
We usually fed him in our garage. Mom would come to watch and because he drank so much she named him Angus after our Grandfather. Because my Grandfather loved to drink.
Angus was like a pet dog. Although I don’t recall trying to teach him any tricks. Boy he was fun. Fun is a theme here. But the fun does have to come to an end.
Each year we put a steer in our freezer. Our local abattoir always took care of this for us. This particular year that steer was to be Angus. Sob…How were we going to eat Angus?
My Dad decided he better take two steers to the abattoir this year. This way we would not know which one we were eating. I am sure we would think about it each time we ate beef. It was so long ago that I don’t remember.
Definitely some lessons learnt. Some, hard ones to swallow. Literally. And no, I am not vegan now. This will most inevitably offend those who are. I love hamburger and doubt I will ever give it up.
Unless there comes a time I can’t get it from a local abattoir and have to purchase it from a store. There is definitely a difference in taste along with smell when it’s cooking.
So until such time I will continue to enjoy my hamburger. And give thanks…
Angus and Sandra’s sister Luann.
I am extra lucky today because Sandra’s father has agreed to share a few little tales from his Facebook page about the farm. Lorne is a retired ‘cattle raiser’ and retired ‘instructor’ (high school teacher but Lorne prefers the title ‘instructor’ so I will defer to his wishesJ).
Thank you for sharing Lorne MacLean!
Lorne’s Post #1:
(To) Melissa: People talk about a lot of work on the farm. What about a little work on the farm? One summer, your Aunt Kimberly came to stay with us for 2 weeks. The four of them got bored one day. So I invented (no I didn't) a game called “cut down the Burdocks” . . . a thick, tall weed which grows in the pasture. I gave them round nosed spades to spear the weed & hatchets to cut at ground level. After a few minutes of trying, Aunt Kim asked to be put on a Greyhound bus going West.
Sandra’s reply -> Kim ended up with sun/heat stroke. I don’t blame her for wanting to go home. – Sandra.
Lorne’s Post #2:
A farm is a store house of reproductivity because of the intensity of the drive to procreate by the animals found there. Example # 1: To watch a 3-foot-tall billy goat fall off the back of a 5-foot-tall Hereford cow is the height of hilarity. Those goats were in the pasture with the girls and were constantly trying to mount them no matter their short legs. Example # 2: In the barn, running loose, were cats & rabbits. It was a miniature rodeo watching those buck rabbits ride the female cats. If successful, the cross breeding would have been indescribable!
Lorne’s Post #3:
I rented pasture to a man who owned brood mares. He came one day to check on his horses. When he left, the gate was improperly latched. Down the lane & down the road go 3 ponies, 2 donkeys, 2 goats & a couple of yearling heifers. I'm not at home! Shirl is in a quandary (befuddle). What does she do? Eventually, she calls the radio station in London which it encouraged people to do, no matter the problem. Bill Brady answers the phone. Shirl worked with him at the Windsor Daily Star in the 1960's. Shirl is now on the air! When she finished rhyming off the list of her "menagerie”, he began to sing "The 12 days of Christmas". You know, "partridge, turtle doves, French hens, etc." Look up the word "menagerie"......"a collection of WILD animals kept in captivity for exhibition". Anyway, she starts getting phone calls. "I saw them going down my road". "I saw them turning the corner of . . . & . . . ". Eventually, a caller said the words that she wanted to hear. "I have them! I put them in a corral for the night". In the morning, with ropes & 3 kids I get to the farm. I tie one pony to one corner of the back of the truck & a heifer to the other. With the kids encouraging everybody from behind, we gingerly made our way home.
Thank you Sandra and Lorne MacLean for sharing with us today. Love the bull that wanted his back scratched. LOL!
You can find Sandra at:
Facebook Page – Awakening Healing Hearts
Twitter - https://twitter.com/SandraAwh44
Website coming soon :)
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Kay Latour -> Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Author of WITCH ON PAROLE series.