The bright spots
I’ve been thinking about bright spots; you know, the high points of the day, the week, the month. And cogitating after this morning’s shenanigans on how a lovely stroll out with the dogs to check on the sheep and cows which is normally a daily high point, can turn into a full morning’s unplanned work when you find something you really didn’t want to see. In this case a flurry of pink eye (a type of conjunctivitis that is a very contagious bacterial infection that spreads like wildfire, can cause temporary blindness but is easily treatable with antibiotics) in a number of ewes. It was the high winds we’ve had for the last few days that sends dust and pollen and other irritants flying about and creates the irritation that then progresses into infection. The worst affected ewe was difficult to get into the shed for treatment as she couldn’t see properly, but she has faith in her unaffected lamb who with considerable gentle chivvying from me, finally led her towards the rest of the flock who we’d just brought inside so we could check everyone out.
Typical that just before our two day intensive Sheep for Beginners course this weekend that we have some gunky-eyed girls, but the course participants will be seeing the reality of keeping sheep and to always expect the unexpected, even when everything was fine and dandy the day before.
There are other mundane but nonetheless high points. On the days I sell a book or books direct to the reader, it’s as pleasing a joy as collecting the daily warm and fresh eggs and gives the same sense of satisfaction. And when folk take the time to get back to me about said books with warm phrases and gratitude, that’s another pulse of pleasure right there. As are the emails which arrive, sometimes years after folk have been on a course, to share photos of their first hens, sheep, cows, pigs, veg garden or orchard.
But I’ve come to realise at this mature point in my life, that bright spots aren’t always about a particular moment, but about comforting realisations. Caring less about things that would cause all kinds of stress and mayhem in the past to my younger self, and being more relaxed about stuff as a consequence. I will never be so chilled as to be horizontal, but I just don’t worry so much about those challenges in life that would once have had my brain in a frenzy.
As one example, rarely watching the news and not getting all steamed up about the utter shits that seem to be in charge worldwide means I may be out of touch, but my blood pressure isn’t boinging off the ceiling, and nor do I feel so helpless and therefore hopeless. I can’t control it, so I let go. Feeble, some might say. Pathetic, perhaps. But if I have just two or so decades left on earth (here’s hoping), any panic produced by me isn’t going to contribute in any meaningful way to easing the situation.
Thinking less about the outside world translates into thinking more about my immediate world and myself – how marvellously selfish is that? As part of that I’ve taken as firm a hold as I can of what I eat. No ultra-processed nasties (not that I ever did much of that), no sugar (apart from in the odd rare splotch of home-made spicy condiment), everything cooked from scratch – real food and as much as possible of it home produced, although fish and seafood are never going to be reared by us. And a few other hefty tweaks here and there for the good of my health. Apart from the obvious result of being leaner, I sleep so much better, have fewer old gal aches and pains and have way more energy. Those mid-afternoon snoozes have become very rare indeed. The hair may be grey, the face wrinkled, but from the neck down I’ve lost a few years. So that’s another bright spot right there.
The gentle reduction of the flocks and herds has also been surprisingly easy and my mantra that having more of something you like doesn’t equal more pleasure, is actually true. Ten cows are as enjoyable as thirty, and the massive upside is that it takes half the time and half the effort to muck out the cattle sheds every day in the winter. And there’s less hay to make and more options for encouraging yet more biodiversity. There are definite bright sides to ageing and mellowing. It won’t be long before the orchids start nosing towards the light, and I spotted my first pignut this week too. Joy.
