This weekend my father has been gone 21 years. It is on these anniversaries that I always do some reflecting of the past, and thankful for my upbringing. Rick and I worked cows (as I have already posted about), took two cows to the vet, and fixed fences. Each of these reminded me about how much my dad loved farming and the land. He had the patience of Job, when it came to a cow. I am in awe of how he did what he did with what he had. We have fancy corrals and chutes; he had make shift cow pens and/or very worn out corrals. I know the two cows that we took to the vet, he would have treated himself. I remember very few times he took a cow to a vet. In fact, he was called when others had trouble with their cows. He was the unofficial, un-degreed country vet.
Daddy also loved his garden. Back in the day, Diana and I did not appreciate the garden and home-grown vegetables. As in the Bible, a seed was planted for our interest in gardening. We have our gardens; and another family tradition continues. Thanks, Dad, for teaching us to love the land.