By Rev. Carol Bodeau
Dear Friends,
This week, I would like to tell you a story (a totally true story) of perseverance, interdependence, and hope. It is also a funny story about life on the farm that may provide some metaphorical inspiration for you. So please persevere in reading through this rather long tale, to see if it sparks any insights for you.
As you know, my husband and I live on a large farm, where we raise food to sell at farmers’ markets. This work involves a lot of interactions with the ecosystem in which we are embedded. The hawks, eagles, owls, deer, frogs, spiders, stinkbugs, ladybugs, and all sorts of other creatures are a vibrant part of our daily lives.
Recently, the ecosystem has been particularly active. Maybe it’s the change to a new year; maybe it’s the cold weather; maybe it’s something in the collective field that is 2025. At any rate, it all started with, first…
…wild boars. Yes, we now have wild boars on our farm, signs of which started appearing in the late autumn of last year. This was concerning, but not destructive. “Let’s keep an eye on that!” we said. Updates pending…
Then, the rats came. Having sold the last of our laying hens, we no longer have a supply of dropped chicken feed up in the barn. So the rats decided to move to the house. They chewed a hole through the closet floor, and began to make their way in. This was distressing, to say the least. We had to take measures to (1) calm our nerves and settle the horror that having rats in my house triggered, (2) do our research to discover best practices for humanely eliminating a rat population from under your house, (3) calmly take measures to dissuade the rats and eliminate impacts of their presence, while the humane treatment did its work over the course of a couple of weeks. And of course, we had to (4) stop up the holes in our structure that the rats had created to gain access.
Next in our lineup of metaphorical messengers, a squirrel tried to sneak into our attic to nest. S/he had actually chewed through a solid wood boundary to get through the soffit. Another very personal boundary violation. I had to climb up into the attic (and again, let me say ewww) to try to ‘scare’ it out, while my husband boarded the hole back up. Only to discover that the squirrel was still inside, having just waited quietly through all my hollering. However, while hollering didn’t bother it, it didn’t like being blockaded. So when it realized it was boarded in, it scratched, we let it out, and then we reset the boundary.
In what by now had become an almost ridiculous series of invasions, the next was a wild dog harassing our cattle. It was threatening them, barking non-stop, trying to herd the cattle and keep them from moving freely (probably with some intent to eventually hunt them). When we realized what was happening, we were glad for the guard donkey who lives with the cattle herd, but we had to take action. Turns out, everyone in the neighborhood was being bothered by this barking menace. So we worked with neighbors to coordinate efforts to get rid of it. We actually made some new friends in the process, and now know our immediate neighbors better. For now, the dog seems to be ‘gone’ (though frankly we’re not actually sure about its current status) but we know the whole neighborhood is watching attentively, protecting one another.
And last, but certainly not least, is the skunks. That is right, after the squirrel and the rats and the dog were gone, the skunks decided to set up house under our living room for mating season. In case you didn’t know, skunks mate loudly and stinkily. Under my uninsulated living room. Regularly. And removing them is not a task for the faint of heart. We have had to air the house out multiple times as we try to figure out how to get them to move out. It stinks. It burns our eyes and upsets our pets and is generally sort of miserable.
But we think we have this licked, too. We found a natural repellent and spread it under the house yesterday. And if the stink last night when they discovered it is any indication, they do not like it! Hopefully, they are gone.
But if they are not, or if others come, we will persevere!
We live in an ecosystem with all sorts of creatures, and they sometimes can be a real nuisance, even dangerous. But if you live on a farm you know a few things: you don’t give up; you find work-arounds and solutions; you rely on your neighbors and your grit and your creativity; you enjoy the sunrises and sunsets; and, whatever comes, having a sense of humor—or at least of irony—is an invaluable resource. I hope that, no matter what is happening in your life, you can find some inspiration for the journey.
In faith and hope,
Rev. Carol
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