What came before...

In the photo above is an old fence row on our property. Before we bought our farm it was a 120 acre cow pasture. We've found remnants of an old silo and barn. In fact, we discovered some time after building our barn that we'd built it on the site of the old barn!

There is some evidence of what came before us and even before the cow pasture. I've found a broken piece from a butter churn lid and down in the woods one Spring I discovered a big patch of daffodils. Knowing this was an indication of a house site, we explored a bit and found some old handmade bricks. They now form a "patio" that my garden shed steps sit upon.

There are traces of what came before that old house site. Long before white men moved into this area it was populated by the Chickasaw Indians. The name of our farm, Hickahala Ranch, comes from the name of the creek that forms our north boundary line. I contacted the Chickasaw Nation in Oklahoma and found out the name is actually two words..."hicka" means "stop" and "hala" means "arrive".

That's exactly how we feel about our home. When the realtor stopped in what became our driveway we knew we'd finally arrived at our home. Later that evening we drove out here alone and walked the half mile to the back of the property (where the house is now). While standing there soaking in the beauty around us a flock of Canada Geese flew overhead. In that moment we knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that we were meant to live here.

I enjoy finding the traces of what came before...barbed wire fence lines turned into a row of trees...unexpected patches of daffodils in the woods...crumbling bricks made decades ago. I can only hope that when Don and I are gone someone will enjoy what we will leave behind...fruit trees...wetlands converted from fields to forest...and this house we hope future family will love as much as we do.

Fergus and his fantasy...

Yesterday evening, while feeding the ducks and chickens, my attention was drawn to my cats, Fergus and Kearie, playing. Fergus escaped from Kearie's clutches and went up a fence post. I was delighted to see this as Fergus is often spotted sitting on top of fence posts, but never seen actually climbing up one. He had an odd way of going up the post, more a form of hitching himself up than actually doing a graceful feline climb. This didn't really surprise me since Don and I are convinced that Fergus believes himself to be a dog.

When Fergus was five weeks old a cruel person threw him out of a moving car onto a concrete driveway. The man who found him brought Fergus to the vet's office where Don and I just so happened to be...guess I was in the right place at the right time! When the man came in with something wrapped up in a brown paper bag I was instantly curious...and very concerned. Don says I was hopping from foot to foot, but I don't believe him.

When the man handed the paper bag to a vet tech he asked her what they were going to do and she said they would have to put it down. I immediately blurted, "What is it and can it be saved?" and was relieved when she said that it was a kitten and it might possibly survive. I replied that I would take full responsibility for the tiny kitten. The man thanked me (as did everyone else in the vet's office) and told me what had happened.

Poor little Fergus...his nose had been ripped off when he hit the pavement and he was in very bad shape. So the vet's office kept him overnight and I returned the next day to bring him home. We put the large dog crate in the family room so that the dogs and other cats could become accustomed to Fergus.

For two weeks it was touch and go. Fergus was in so much pain he would just lie in his bed with his head hanging. I had to feed him with a syringe because he couldn't breathe and suck a bottle at the same time. Eventually he healed as best he could and became a happy little guy.

Today Fergus is a big beautiful cat and we don't notice the horrid disfigurement where his nose used to be. He spends most of his days lying in the yard with the dogs, which is why we think Fergus believes he IS a dog...after all, he grew up in a dog crate surrounded by other dogs! He never purrs and seldom meows. I told Don this is because Fergus thinks he should bark and it doesn't come out right so he stays quiet...probably embarrassed by the girly meows.

Yesterday, after climbing the fence post, Fergus hopped down into the back yard with the two dogs that live back there. He's the only cat that ever gets in the back yard...probably because Fergus thinks he's one of the dogs. When I came in the house Fergus was sitting next to the doghouse like he belonged there.

I guess, in his mind, he does!