It’s a day to celebrate mothers and grandmothers and those who’ve simply mothered us even though they weren’t the ones who brought us into this world.  I think, too, that it’s a good day to recall the joys that come to those of us who play that role in one way or another.

Here at the farm, we have a lot to cherish.


Dinah Dog’s pups are grown, and all but one left home long ago.  I know how that goes.  She and I agree that it’s nice to have one of the grown kids close by.  I have my Jes here, she has her Freckles, the black and white pup we kept.  Incidentally, Jes and Freckles make a pretty good working team.


I’m Mom to most of the ducklings here, but they’re not as much help around the place.  Mostly, they just act cute, eat a lot, poop a lot, then grow up to eat bugs, make a lot of noise, and leave eggs in the nests — which actually is kind of helpful.


Even those that aren’t mine to mother make me smile, like this newborn calf that couldn’t have been more than a few minutes old when I spotted it in a pasture beside the road into town.


Sometimes a mom needs help, and there’s joy in the helping.


Usually the mothers here manage just fine on their own.  I still find excuses to play with and spoil the babies.


Sometimes, I’m the mom, and I pull out the photo albums and flip through the memories.  Like this one.

Oh my.  How old is that photo?  Why couldn’t they stay that little and cute?  Why did they have to grow up?  What was I thinking when I got that perm?

Sorry, I got distracted for a minute there.

Happy Mother’s Day!