Today the sky is blue. The woodshed is filled with good hardwood. The house is tidy and the windows are polished. I am enjoying time outside playing with Jewel and Lassie and the puppies. Yes, there are more puppies on the farm this spring. Seven, to be precise. Most look just like Lassie this time, a first for her really, but one tiny little black boy looks like his daddy and his brother. I'll keep him, as a memorial to old Ben. And to remind me that though things look dark and hopeless they can turn around in the blink of an eye.
Jewel has healed from her incident with the bobcat. I had washed her insides and carefully tucked them back in and sewed her up with a stitches kit Jack had bought, insisting that it would come in handy living on a farm. The next day, when the creek had gone down I took her to Doc Harris in town. He is an excellent vet. He looked over her and gave her some oral antibiotics. He said that he would operate if it came to it, but that everything should be okay as long as infection didn't set in. That was two months ago, and she healed up just fine, taking it easy for a few weeks, but she is now back to her normal self.
And as for me, I'm healing too. The event with the bobcat jolted me out of my funk and made me grateful for what I have. I won't have Jack to go through life with like I'd hoped and planned, and I miss him terribly, but I know that he is waiting for me on the other side.
I asked a neighbor to come and help me learn how to use the farm tools that always intimidated me, including the chainsaw. He was a super big help, and now I feel like I can conquer any project that comes my way. Life is feeling good. I think I'm going to like farm life, with all of its hard, un-ending work. Paradise once lost is now restored. It isn't perfect, but it is still my little bit of heaven on earth.
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