The Evolution of Atlas: A Breeding (and Chat) Thread

1muttsfan

Free Ranging
8 Years
Mar 26, 2011
20,952
6,614
647
Upper Peninsula Michigan
Thanks you guys. We said goodbye to Miss Maggie on Wednesday, and my Grannie bird yesterday.

Karen, I agree that you may want to approach your daughter differently. You could, for example, say "I would like you and I to go out every once in a while and have a little time just with each other. Maybe a special lunch, and a trip to Kohls or a pedicure - something fun where we can relax, talk and laugh. We can also plan other times when your husband and children could join us, if they would like." If she declines such an offer, then I'm not sure being more assertive would do much more than make her feel pushed, which would not be conducive to a good relationship. It does not sound as if you overburden her with requests.
 

seminolewind

Flock Mistress
Premium member
12 Years
Sep 6, 2007
18,083
1,526
512
Corydon, Indiana
This is the Paul Harvey thing. I could read it over and over.


And on the 8th day, God looked down on his planned paradise and said, “I need a caretaker.” So God made a farmer.


God said, “I need somebody willing to get up before dawn, milk cows, work all day in the fields, milk cows again, eat supper and then go to town and stay past midnight at a meeting of the school board.” So God made a farmer.


“I need somebody with arms strong enough to rustle a calf and yet gentle enough to deliver his own grandchild. Somebody to call hogs, tame cantankerous machinery, come home hungry, have to wait lunch until his wife’s done feeding visiting ladies and tell the ladies to be sure and come back real soon — and mean it.” So God made a farmer.


God said, “I need somebody willing to sit up all night with a newborn colt. And watch it die. Then dry his eyes and say, ‘Maybe next year.’ I need somebody who can shape an ax handle from a persimmon sprout, shoe a horse with a hunk of car tire, who can make harness out of haywire, feed sacks and shoe scraps. And who, planting time and harvest season, will finish his forty-hour week by Tuesday noon, then, pain’n from ‘tractor back,’ put in another seventy-two hours.” So God made a farmer.


God had to have somebody willing to ride the ruts at double speed to get the hay in ahead of the rain clouds and yet stop in mid-field and race to help when he sees the first smoke from a neighbor’s place. So God made a farmer.


God said, “I need somebody strong enough to clear trees and heave bails, yet gentle enough to tame lambs and wean pigs and tend the pink-combed pullets, who will stop his mower for an hour to splint the broken leg of a meadow lark. It had to be somebody who’d plow deep and straight and not cut corners. Somebody to seed, weed, feed, breed and rake and disc and plow and plant and tie the fleece and strain the milk and replenish the self-feeder and finish a hard week’s work with a five-mile drive to church.”


“Somebody who’d bale a family together with the soft strong bonds of sharing, who would laugh and then sigh, and then reply, with smiling eyes, when his son says he wants to spend his life ‘doing what dad does.'” So God made a farmer.
 
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