Today was the day......

Today was the day of my Mum's funeral.

She went into the fire in a wicker basket.

All the family were there.

Except me.

I was out in the middle of the field, 

with Lester, Boolie, Gus, Maz, and Blue.

So what was I doing?

Perhaps having a moment of loving thought,

of taking the time to pause in reflection,

of being aware of a new chapter in my life,

of the turning of the years,

of the cycle of life.

Actually, no. 

What I was doing was helping Lester do some fencing, 

which was an urgent job,

because the other field has become partially flooded again,

because it has rained again,

because we can't get the animals on to that field to graze again,

which means that Station Field has to be used again,

but we have just put fertiliser on to that field to help it along,

and we have just put fencing wire along the long length of the internal fencing poles,

but since the other field can't now be used,

we have to use this field,

and the animals will get tangled in the fence wire,

unless we get the fencing grillage up on that wire,

which is what we did in the rain today.

Today was the day of my Mum's funeral.

I didn't go to the funeral because my health has not been kind to me.

Oh not of the 'near death' stuff, 

but of cough, cold, messy tummy, crunchy chest and dreadful tiredness, 

that is what has been set upon me since my Mum finally managed to pass away.

She wanted to go,

Kept asking for more morphine,

Kept on saying "Why am I still here", "I want to go"....

And in the end she did. 

Today was day of my Mum's funeral.

I think she would have liked the wicker basket,

with the round handles looking like port holes,

and the duffle coat type fastenings keeping the lid from opening,

of the theme song from Titanic walking her into the crematorium,

and 'Bring me sunshine' being played as she departed that place, 

Yes, I think, all in all, that she would have enjoyed her send off.

Today was the day of my Mum's funeral.

Rest in peace, Mum,

God speed you towards the light.

And I thought of the family giving you your send off

as I stood in the rain,

fencing our land,

and smiling up at the sky,

and giving praise and thanks

for you walking beside me as my Mum,

for nearly sixty six years

as I held on to the grillage to stop it from buckling

while Lester clipped it to the wire

so that our animals can graze on the field tomorrow,

because life goes on....

x

Lester said....

Lester said that the goats kept getting out, 

that in the middle of an important telephone conference

his train of thought was interrupted by the noisy honking of a car out front, 

whose driver was very upset to be stopped on her way to wherever

by an escapee goatling.

So he is keeping the goats in their pen,

just for now.

Lester said that Elise, our young heiffer, has been quite well behaved

-except for this morning when she kicked and frolicked her way to Home Field

but was not particularly enthused with actually going through the gate. 

He said he smacked her bum to get her through.

Lester said that the sheep are being difficult about going down the side path,

that the other morning he 'lost' the entire flock, 

and that after spending an age racing up and down the lane in search of them,

 that he found them tucked away beneath the road bridge,

preparing to barge their way through the very tall bamboo of our neighbour Claudine.

He said that he managed to get them to change their minds.

He said that it was not easy.

And then there was the lamb which refused to go with the rest of the flock,

and led Lester a merry chase all round Kitchen Field, 

much to the amusement of Claudine as she hung out of her upstairs window, 

and who eventually came over to help him catch that naughty lamb.

Lester said that he has lost two days of goats milk

because Ice Cream has insisted on paddling a foot in the bucket 

just as milking is nearing its end.

The milk has been given to the dogs.

They liked it, he said.

Lester said that he has managed to rotovate some of the Kitchen Field veg plot,

but had to stop because he ran out of petrol. 

He said he would carry on when he has bought more petrol.

But we have not bought this years' seed,

so no hurry.

Lester said that the nipples on the smaller sow are getting pronounced.

Lester said that he thinks that she is indeed with piglet.

Lester said that he will have to separate her off.

Lester sighed as he said this was so,
knowing what a job that would turn out to be.

Lester said he had run out of food,

but not to worry,

Paul and Sara  down the road, and Caz and John over in Madiran

well, they have fed him, he said, 

so he can keep going for a few days longer if need be.

Lester said that he missed me. 

He said this to me on Sunday.

Last week I flew into the UK, hastily, 

to sit the night watch beside my dying mother,

who has not departed of this world as yet,

but if she has her way,

soon will be.

I sat beside her for two more nights,

and then some more hours,

and I asked of her,

"Do you want me to stay and be with you?"

And she whispered, 

"No, you go home...."

And then I said, choke voiced:

"Thankyou for being my Mum,"

and other words for which I have no memory
but are between her and me anyway.

So I made a return to France

to be with Lester

who was trying his best to manage our smallholding.

Meanwhile,

I wait for the phone call....

Me, the dogs, the beach, and a drop of sun...

Not the best quality of video, but me and the camera did our best!

And for Diane, because she can't see the videos: 

Gussy and Maz on our new beach

The new, but temporary, beach

The two girls

Elise

Elise giving you a kiss

The rear end of Bools, and Blue

Wishing you a happy Sunday.