After 57 years of Valentine’s Day celebrations, I’ve learned that there’s one element that must be in the equation of a long-lasting relationship. Humor isn’t the only factor, but I believe that it’s essential in the mix.
For a case in point, let’s go back 30 years.
We were at our Lake Hartwell farm, standing in the kitchen on Valentine’s Day.
“Pam,” I said, “over the years, I have given you lots of jewelry and flowers. But this year, I wanted to give you a very special ruby and a rose.”
She smiled and said, “That’s very thoughtful. Thank you.”
Then, she waited for me to hand her the gifts.
Instead, I pointed out the window. “They’re out there, standing by the fence. Their names are Ruby and Rose.”
First, she stared at the enormous strawberry-roan draft mules, and then she looked at me. With a wry smirk, she said, “Oh, how nice. Now we have three jackasses on this farm—the two standing in the pasture and the one who brought them here.”
That was 1995, and we are still laughing about that one.
(As long as the magnificent mules were alive, they were the grande dames of our critter collection.)
Both our families’ roots are deep into Southwest Georgia soil. All of Pam’s people were farmers. Before her dad died, he restored and gave to me the horse-drawn implements that he and his father used in Mitchell County. Across the Flint River, in Baker County, my mother’s family must have plowed thousands of miles behind mules, too.
While we have bought our groceries from money made in town, the digging-in-the-dirt DNA is sown into our souls, too. That’s why we live on a farm. Different people have different hobbies. Ours is piddling with projects, planting a few things and “decorating” our pastures with four-legged “ornaments.” Our menagerie of comical critters is entertainment for us, our grandkids and guests.
And it all started with the gift of Ruby and Rose.
Since 1995, we’ve had a variety of barnyard pets. The mix included mules, horses, Belted Galloway (Oreo) cows, Royal Palm turkeys, Bantam chickens, miniature donkeys, llamas, Great Pyrenees dogs and barn cats.
I have never declared, “Today, I am going to get some cats.” But several years ago, a pregnant feral female just picked our farm to birth three kittens. I must confess, “The four felines have been fun.” Three live at the mule barn, and their mother is in charge of the storage barn. When the cats came, the rat-and-mice problem vamoosed.
Rascal, Bubba, Sister and Mamma each have their distinct personalities. But they all want two things: food and a generous scratch behind their ears. Bubba is my “dog.” As I do my chores, he follows me around. Sometimes he perches on a fence post to watch and to make sure I’m doing things right. And for his supervision, he expects an extra scratch or two.
Oops.
How could I forget the goat era?
Ever since 1955, when Steve Strickland and I pooled our crumpled dollar bills to buy a $4 goat at his granddaddy’s stockyard, I had wanted another goat. Actually, I imagined goats. Circa 1994, we started with four. Billy goats come into the world with one thing on their minds. Yep, we blinked and had a herd of 75 goats.
Today, we have zero.
But we really miss those animated kids, kicking and frolicking in the pasture. Goats have more playful personalities than most people.
That gives me an idea. After all these Valentine’s Days, I am running out of creativity for Feb. 14. So, I’m thinking about a starter pair of nanny goats. We could name them Ruby and Rose.
I wonder whether Pam will laugh this time.
Stay tuned.
dnesmith@cninewspapers.com