THE FARM

The Gibson family farm has been in our family since 1906. It has been a fully functioning farm the whole time. My Grandfather and Great-Grandfather grew mostly canola and durum, and for the past ten years my father has been raising sheep. Our farm is located in the south-west corner of Saskatchewan. I grew up mostly in the city of Saskatoon, spending my summers out at the farm. You could say I have a bit of farm-kid in me. The farm spans for hundreds of acres around the farmhouse, but the garden is just down a path through the yard. This is where the magic happens...

Burning the Midnight Oil June 11

Ohhhhh Boy it is late. And I still can't fall asleep. So I did what any rational person would do... I went to the barn with a couple bottles of milk and talked and snuggled with my babies. Lambs, that is. It's actually very therapeutic to talk to something that cannot answer you. Sometimes you don't want a reply, you just need to say the words out loud. Saying them out loud is like putting them in a journal, it gets your thoughts out of your head and onto paper... or in my case into the dusty midnight air of the barn.
A barn is kind of a spooky place at night. You have to walk to the middle of the barn just to turn the lights on, and once the light is on, you have 60 mama or mama-to-be sheep staring at you. Every little sound makes your heart race, and you start to think of things like ghosts and axe murderers. And once your settled into the straw with a couple of excited  babies, everything seems natural and wholesome again. On the way back through the dark, I fell!! I can't believe I survived the tragic incident, but I'm happy to report that I am fine now. It takes more than a fallen electric fence to hold me back!!! It was embarrassing that Minx the barncat was right there, witnessing the whole spectacle, me splayed out on the ground, face planted in the dirt. I swear she rolled her eyes. Is it a symptom of insanity to be self conscious in front of a cat?
I finally made it back home, which is where I am now, not scared of ghosts or axe murders at all, my dad is in bed in the next room. Which is where I should be. Sweet dreams everybody.

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