In a perfect world, I would have spent my evening curled up by a blazing fire with a cup of tea watching Downton Abbey…
Unfortunately, Jewel didn’t get the message. So my evening was more like the swamp scene from the Never Ending Story.
Just replace the beautiful white horse with a mammoth white donkey, aka “Jewel the Unicorn,” and the pre-pubescent Indian boy with a 40 year old frizzy haired me in coveralls and a runny nose and red cheeks. And a head lamp. In the dark. In a muddy red field.
Do all that and you’ve got a pretty accurate picture of the last few days on Buttercup Farm.
“Jewel!!! Get up Jewel! Come on Jewel, get up. Pleeeeeeaaaaase get up! If you don’t get up you’ll DIE!! I know it’s hard, but you’ve got to get up!”
And yes, I’ve talked to her like she understands me. I’ve looked in her big brown eyes and cried and told her it’s ok to go. I’ve thanked her for the milk she gave so our daughter could be well. I’ve yelled and screamed and pulled with all my weight. I’ve covered her up with a blanket and scooped hay to make her a warm nest.
We’ve picked her big butt up with the tractor at least twenty times in the last three weeks.
And, barring a miracle, tomorrow we will be saying goodbye to our big white unicorn.
might will sit in the swamp of despair muddy red dirt field and cry my eyes out.
Unless a giant white dog-like dragon swoops down and carries me away to never never land, I’ll get up. Dry my eyes. Comfort two sad little girls. And make breakfast.
Tomorrow, I’ll wish I had a bell with an English maid on the other end. And a butler with a paleo breakfast on a silver tray. And farm serfs to take care of these messy weepy reality things.
The day after tomorrow, I’ll remember why I love this farm life.
Even if we are more like the peasant farm serfs than royalty.