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Run, Maggie, Run

I came home a little early today to get stuff together for Earth Day at the Health Sciences Center tomorrow. I have a large volunteer group coming and a doctor appointment for Margaret as well. My brain has been running like crazy – at least until a moment ago.

My wife sent me You Tube link (attached below) and the tears have slowed enough to sit down and write.  Every now and then a song comes along that you swear was written for you. Maybe it’s about your life, your loved ones, or your friends, but it’s like the songwriter was inside your head. That’s the case with this one…

My Maggie was a ball of fur that I bottle fed until she ciould eat solid food. Her mother and the rest of the littler were taken to the shelter. She grew into sixty pounds with a beautiful gray merle coat and a raccoon mask across her face. Maggie was half Catahoula and half coyote – rebel was an accurate adjective, and her wild side was endearing to anyone who met her. Squirrels knew better than to set foot in our yard!

Maggie was my dog. She tolerated everyone else, and could even be affectionate toward them, but she loved me, and I loved her. She would curl up beside my desk and follow me everywhere I went – especially if I was going to the kitchen. We learned quickly not to leave anything we intended to eat on the counter. She assumed it was hers – even the birthday cake Margaret made for a friend. Maggie had an incredible radar for food. She could be outside and no matter how quietly I crept into the kitchen she would be sitting there waiting before I had a chance to finish opening whatever I was going to cook or eat.

On the Monday before Thanksgiving last year, she walked in and laid by my feet. I reached down to pet her and noticed her eyes didn’t look right. I knelt and took her head in my hands to love on her. She started to have a seizure and died right there in my hands. She was only five years old. We suspect she had an aneurysm.

I wrapped her in a blanket and gently carried her out to a place by the garden close to wear my Sheltie, Missy, is buried. I cried quietly as I laid her to rest. Sadie, our other rescue was her “sister”. I looked out the window later and saw her sitting and staring at Maggie’s grave.

I’m trying not to get tears on the keyboard as I write this. The last two years have been marked by some devastating losses – my son, my best friend, and others who I came to know and love over the last twenty years or so. Maybe Maggie’s Song will lead me through the grief even if it doesn’t fill the hole in my heart.

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Remembering Maggie

“I want to be the man my dog thinks I am” – Anonymous

I’m not sure how much more I can take. My “Coyotahoula”, Maggie, laid by my side as she breathed her last this morning. She wasn’t feeling well this weekend. She didn’t even come when the microwave beeper went off Saturday, so I knew she was under the weather. She spent Sunday evening curled up next to me at my desk. I thought I’d best take her to the veterinarian on Monday, but she couldn’t wait. She came by my side as I drank my morning coffee and never left. I knew. I laid down on the floor next to her and loved on her as she slowly passed on.

I’ve spent most of the day sad and exhausted. I buried her in the garden near her favorite spot. It probably violates some city code but quite frankly, I don’t care. This is where she belongs. If you’re not a dog person this probably doesn’t seem like a big deal – hey, it’s just a dog – but if you are you know the deep sense of loss that comes with losing your best friend.

We have two other dogs, Jameson (the Opal’s Farm dog!) and Sadie. They know Maggie’s gone. Sadie didn’t even bark at the lawn mower as I rolled it to the front yard. Maggie wasn’t there to bark with her. Some say we anthropomorphize our dogs. Animals are somehow absent human feelings. I’ve watched them all day and seen their sadness and grief and it’s as real as mine. I’m sure that there’s a reason “dog” is “God” spelled backwards.

Maggie keeping an eye on things…

All our dogs are rescues. Maggie was not even weaned when the previous owners took her mother and siblings to the shelter. We managed to rescue Maggie from the pound. Maggie was half coyote and half Catahoula. Her fate was in doubt at the shelter as a hybrid canine. We bottle fed her until she could do solid food. In fact, that’s how she got her name. She would suck on the bottle like Maggie on The Simpsons – the rest is history.

One month old!

Maggie made it quite clear that she was my dog. She was always quite the “daddy’s girl” and intensely jealous of the other two receiving any of my attention without first loving on her. She could sense a peanut jar opening from three rooms away and knew the I would always save a bite for her.

I could go on and on about Maggie. Pet parents know what I mean. I’m embarrassed to admit that I have as many, if not more, pictures of Maggie than I do my grandkids. Maggie, Jameson, and Sadie became our kids. Dogs are family and spoiled family members at that!

Maggie’s passing brought up all the loss of the last year-and-a-half, especially when it comes to my son Jeremy. He used to tease me all the time about how he was going to steal Maggie. He constantly tried to get me to let him have her. I’m not surprised. Maggie and Jeremy had a lot in common.

In fact, Maggie was my “Jeremy”. She had the same streak of wildness and freedom that Jeremy had ever since he was a baby. She was often too smart for her own good just as he was. She was independent, stubborn, and as sweet as he was. I think she made his passing a bit more tolerable. She always reminded me of him. I’d like to think they’re running around together today…

Today I lost my dog. It’s another reminder of the continual losses since this pandemic began – even when COVID isn’t responsible. I’ve lost my son, my best friend, and other folks that I miss daily. I guess Maggie brought it all to a head. Grief is a bitch…

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Spring Has Sprung

Down On the Farm: It started raining in the pre-dawn hours last Friday. It’s been off and on rain, heavy at times, but without the severe thunderstorms that are so frequent in North Texas this time of year. The above-average temperatures we’ve had often contribute more damaging weather.  I may not be able to work at the farm, but I can enjoy the morning a tad longer from the porch.

All around Fort Worth, Dogwoods, Bradford Pears, and Texas Redbuds are bursting with pinks, whites, and reds and emerald greens dots shine throughout the woods. Bluebonnets dot the roadsides. All the other Spring wildflowers are close behind. The vernal equinox may be a few days away, but the flora announces Spring is already here.

Photo by nagaraju gajula on Pexels.com

Down on the farm the green peas are coming along nicely and almost ready to pick. The sugar snap peas aren’t far behind. The carrots need to be thinned and weeds are always an issue no matter what time of year it is. Thanks, Kiersten for all your help weeding!

The early Spring planting is completed. The turnips, beets, spinach, and green onions went in the ground and the rain is a welcome guest. There’s something about heaven sent rain that makes everything grow better. Jamison the Farm Dog is hard at work protecting our new crops from pests!

Jameson hard at work

We added an herb garden this year. We set aside a couple of smaller beds for tarragon, cilantro, and sage so far. The rest – basil, oregano, parsley, and thyme – will go in later this month.

We’ll also be preparing to expand into our second acre. A huge thanks goes out to J. Davis Tree Care Solutions for all the wood chips they’ve dropped off. We’ve been mulching our walkways and furrows. Brandon Hendrickson at Zimmerer Kubota, is delivering a tractor after this rain clears out. We’ll be able to plow and cover the new acre with a thick layer of wood chips and cover crops (thanks to Jay Schmigdall!). It will hold down some of the weeds and provide excellent compost and nourishment for new planting.

We also need to give a huge shoutout to Lauren Hickman at the Tarrant Area Food Bank. She provided us with two flats of celebrity tomatoes they raised at their Learning Garden. She’s also been a wonderful help with arranging composting and a great source of wisdom for Opal’s Farm.

The rain meant rescheduling some of our volunteers. Farming, whether urban or rural, is dependent on the weather. Thanks to all for being so understanding. We’re looking forward to seeing you soon.

For those of you who haven’t been out or would like to volunteer at Opal’s Farm please sign up at www.unityunlimited.org. Go to the Opal’s Farm page and click on the sign-up button. Feel free to find a time that works best for you and come join us!

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It May Be January but Spring is Here

Down On the Farm

This morning’s rain chose a perfect time to stop work at Opal’s Farm for two reasons. One, I had to make a visit to the veterinarian today (a not so good reason) instead of the farm. Two, we made serious headway on planting yesterday.

Our middle fur baby, Maggie, came in from her morning duties outside with her right eye swollen shut. A couple of hours later the swelling had taken over the right side of her face. A huge shout out to Penny Paws Vet Clinic in Richland Hills for seeing her so quickly. It turns out it was an allergic reaction to either a spider bite or bee sting.  She’s well on her way to recovery.

There’s not much worse than seeing your kids hurt. Pet parents know what I mean. Margaret and I have grown kids. We love them more than we can say, but hey, they don’t keep us warm at night…

Spring Planting has officially begun!

Although the target date was February 15th, we were able to kick off the Spring planting early. Big thanks go to Charlie Blaylock at Shines Farmstand for the onion sets (all 2,000 of them) and to our volunteers, Brenda and Kiersten, for helping get the first two beds planted. All those little green shoots are drinking in today’s rain, Jameson the Farm Dog is on pest control duty, and all is well down on the farm…

Kiersten’s laying ’em down!

Thank you to all the people that called following the news story on NBC5 offering to volunteer at Opal’s Farm. We’re busy getting our volunteer sign-up and schedule for Spring. We can’t wait to see you and play in the dirt together!

I also would like to take this opportunity to say thank you to Blue Zones Project Fort Worth for the basket from The Table Market and Culinary Studio (the spicy carrots are amazing!). You are truly a blessing!

From The Table at Dickson Jenkins Plaza, 120 St. Louis, Suite 1038, Fort Worth
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Simply Beautiful…

Down On the Farm

It’s hard to believe it’s January and our first year at Opal’s Farm is behind us. I’m busy preparing for the first Spring planting starting February 15th. It’s hard to believe it’s only five short weeks away.

We’ve been fortunate to experience above-average temperatures and a much drier winter this year. It’s a bit of a two-edged sword – the rain is sorely need and appreciated but sunshine means more time to get ready for Spring. Not a bad problem to have, mind you…

This weekend was one of those times when the Texas winter is truly appreciated. It was warm enough the no coat or jacket was required and yet cool enough to avoid being drenched in sweat. I’d like to think I get more work done on such days, but I’m prone to taking more frequent breaks to simply drink in the sunshine and peacefulness.

A Winter day in Cowtown

The wind was absent, the river like glass. The freeway seemed miles away. Cyclist and joggers, often with dogs in tow, dotted Trinity Trails on both sides of the river. A couple of them stopped to check in on the progress of the farm. One older gentleman told tales of his own childhood on a farm in Central Texas. Time stopped and I was transported to Limestone County several decades ago. His recollections shone in vivid detail. The Fort Worth skyline faded away for a moment.

Something special happens at Opal’s Farm and not just on days like this weekend. Everything slows down, people talk to one another, and a sense of community and belonging happens. There’s something intangible taking place, bringing joy to the farm, and making memories come alive.

Jameson is ready to work…

There’s a special spirit taking place wherever food is involved. Maybe that’s why one of my favorite activities is breaking bread with friends. Growing the food amplifies that spirit. It carries us back to a simpler time when we were connected to the world around us. Thus, we are more connected to one another.

If you’d like to connect, to get your hands dirty, or just talk for a while and take it all in, stop by and see us sometime. Maybe you can soak in that spirit as well and be a part of our little farming community. We’re just a stone’s throw from downtown and it might just slow things down a bit. We could all use that, right?