Footprints on the Web

Sheep have tremendous enduring power. To endure winter. To endure thunderstorms. To endure labor pains and give birth on their own with no help. And in no time, the lambs learn this power very quickly as well. They never stop to astound me. Similarly, each of us have different energy level. A person in their lifetime can have different energy level at different stages of their life. Some things suck more energy out of us than others. And so do some people.

I started out my 20 year career in banking with a lot of passion and vigor. As most bright eyed 20 some year olds usually do. Somewhere along the way I started feeling tired. It turned into exhaustion not just from the work but also being in a toxic culture with people who did not have integrity. Eventually in ended up in being burnout for me because when you stick with something or someone for the wrong reason, in this case that reason was money for me, burnout is inevitable.

I have been on the farm over a month and I don’t know what magic potion the farmers drink to get their endurance. Day after day, night after night, never taking a break they march on. The physical stamina needed is one thing. But the emotion toiling has gotta be tiring. I observe each of them and wonder – don’t they every feel like giving up? Don’t they ever feel like throwing it all away and going off and do something not as arduous? I did ask one of the farmers this and he said yes, all the time. He thinks about leaving this life all the time but somehow he feels an obligation to do that. Not to a person or an animal but to himself. I guess I will not quite understand that feeling because I don’t think I have ever felt obligated to do anything to this extent. The farmer I asked this question to is few years younger than I am but yet he looks a decade older than me. Hard physical labor can do that to one. My only viable explanation to this ridiculous level of endurance is love. Passion. They are passionate about what they do. They love the reason they do what they do. I don’t know what that feels like either.

The farm family opens their hearts and homes to outsiders and are so sincere. Since day one they did not treat me any different from one of their own or not extend invitation to everything that the family partakes in including communal lunches, ladies night, camping events, etc. The main farm house had a big wooden frame where everyone- family members, employees and volunteers- have their own designated coffee mug with a label with their name on it so that they can reuse their coffee/tea mugs as they go in and out the farm house throughout the day. This symbolizes more than the convenience of saving time from having to wash the cup everytime. This represents your welcoming and being accepted into the farm family. I was given a cup my 2^nd week with a label to write my name by the matriarch of the farm. The following day, the patriarch of the farm gave me a cup along with a label. So now I have 2 spots on the wooden frame with 2 cups. Everyone else has 1 spot/cup.

The family has accepted partners of their children like their own. They include them in all the major decision making involving the farm. Regardless how long the relationship has been or how young or inexperienced the partner is, the family gives them just as much importance as the rest of them. I find this very intriguing. Maybe because this would never happen in my extended family. Older people get the priority. Young folks and their opinions don’t matter. If you are not related by blood and married into the family or simply in a relationship with one of us, you don’t count in important decisions. Family dynamics on the farm was foreign to me. My friend had asked me if I ever get lonely on the farm. And my answer was an immediate no. It is hard to feel lonely when it is communal living. You may not get along with everyone. Everyone has their good days and bad days. But you are always included and made feel as part of a community. No one even lives on their own. All the houses around me are either couples or housemates. Yes, I live in my yurt by myself but I am surrounded by these houses with people who I see and run into and strike up conversations with every single day. You are never alone. Neither are you ever lonely.

Keeping humans aside, its still hard to feel lonely with all the living creatures around you. I wake up to Alriss’ crowing every morning at 4:30am. Stark difference from my past life when I was usually woken up in the middle of the night by ambulance sirens or honking of cars or drunk college kids on streets. Alriss, the rooster is named after the character in the movie the Old Yeller. The guard dogs who get very territorial about the field they are on protecting their flock. Somedays they get into fights amongst themselves if any one dog jumps the fence and goes into another field. We are talking skin breaking, deep bloody bite marks kinda dogs fights. I have seen a few and helped treat some of them. Inspite of the protective dogs, lambs get attacked by foxes who have learned to get through fences. This time of the year they get quite brazen as they hunt for their little ones. We had a case of 3 lambs who were attacked in their head by a family of foxes and the farmer with the medical knowledge managed to stitch them up – basically stitch up their brains and they survived. Well all but one. One had serious tremors and twitching that made it hard for it to even stand up. That night 2 of the farmers shot one of the foxes and left its body by the fox den as a warning to the rest.

I had broken my first feeding bottle. I was trying to carry the feeding bucket with nipples and bottles for the ones that could not figure out the bucket and trying to open the basement door at the same time. In came one of the farmers storming and thud! She was frantically trying to rush to her next tourist tour and told me one of the lambs now had orf (cold sores around their mouth contagious to humans) and she just had to throw him in the pen as she didn’t have time to segregate him. I told her I would handle it. I went to pen after cleaning up the broken bottle with milk mess, and the lamb was crying and all stressed out. Lambs don’t do well by themselves. They need a partner atleast. I tried to out her in different segregated pens. She was on the bigger side so jumped out of every single pen and kept trying to feed herself from the bucket I had placed by then entrance to feed the rest. She had basically contaminated all the foster barn. I had more than 30 lambs to feed still but couldn’t do it with her jumping everywhere and being around the other lambs. I rushed out  of the barn and asked the matriarch if she could hold onto the lamb until I was done feeding the rest. Given her low immunity, the matriarch was reluctant on holding onto the lamb with the contagious condition for long so got a worker to go fetch a crate and put the lamb in there. Great idea! Every lamb in the upcoming days caught orf. And so did I and one of the other volunteers. The condition can be detrimental for someone who is immunocompromised which I am. But so far it seems to be fine with some cold sore around my chin. It looks like I have pimples.

During a particular morning feeding, I was bit by one of the puppy guard dogs who was still struggling with its task of guarding the sheep. He was still a playful puppy who wanted to be around humans. He jumped fence to wander a lot. He couldn’t differentiate between threats and others quite as yet. He was perfectly fine with me one day and decided to snap on me the next. Upon hearing the shepherd got me to go with him to the dog and take my hand to his face and discipline him. He then took the dog to the kennel in the barn and kept him there for days. I felt awful that this happened because I happened to mention it. But everyone was appreciative of me sharing it because they reassured me that the puppy had been showing signs all along that he is not a good fit for the farm. Still I felt like a tattletale.

Somedays are more tiring than others. When the 3 lambs were attacked by the foxes, I had to leave my daily chores and drives to the mainland to get meds and sutures from the vet and rush back. Living on the island we are ferry bound. Something that should only take 20 minutes can take longer than 2 hours because the ferry runs every hour on both sides. Speeding to make the ferry which is always on time is very stressful. Most nights I get a good deep sleep through all the sounds of nature. But when one of the guard dogs are in a field close to my yurt and barks all night, its hard to get sleep. Also because you are wondering is there a fox or coyote lurking around. The work doesn’t stop the next day after you got no sleep the night before. I was crashing by early afternoon when I was asked if I would help pick haskaps (fly honeysuckle). I got up and helped. I thought I would go to bed early one night but was asked to help with a weak lamb. I sat up trying to feed this little one who simply did not want to drink milk or latch and was just limp. Its easy to give up on these ones. You have to be super patient. It took me almost an hour to get a little in its belly. It was looking good and I felt accomplished because the shepherd was not able to get it to eat and I did. I woke up the next morning to go check on it and it didn’t make it. As I continue to strive and catch up on the learning curve of endurance, everyday is challenging. Somedays its physical. But most days its emotional and psychological. On those tough days, when endurance escapes me, I ask myself can I keep doing this? What the hell am I doing here s far from the life I have been used to? Would I rather be indoors sitting in an air conditioned room leading a meeting with 20+ hypocritic, misogynistic and spineless assholes discussing matters that made no difference in this world or to anyone’s life? And the answer is always a no. And that gives me the strength to keep going. To keep enduring.