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Really. I just thought our cow was loosing it. I had spotted her walking backward. The first time I thought my eyes were fibbing. Bizarre thing to see. Like some kind of bovine moonwalk. All kinds of crazy behaviour is to be expected from an expecting heifer.

But birthing now? No. Inconvenient.

The “holder of the knowledge of all things cow” was having a kid and dad day four wheel driving. And last time I helped a cow birth {like childbirth but not}, I almost lost my wedding ring trying to get two calf legs forward in the business end of things!

Ok. Think I just lost most of my readers but probably safer that way cause I have illustrations too…. although I have to admit. The last picture is so very cute.

And I will draw breath for just a minute to reiterate that I am NOT a country girl either. ‘At heart’ maybe but I was city born and bred. Know a lot more about running after trains than after sheep in need of a haircut; about feeding kookaburras on the back fence than chooks wanting their tucker; know more about picking food off a shelf at coles than from a tree or from the vege patch or ….. {gulps} …. heaven forbid ….. {whispering now} from the rump of a baby cow. {lip quivers}

Don’t think I will ever get used to eating our own meat. Why is eating beef that you have met so much sadder?

But I have diverged.

All I could do was take her from the paddock to the garden so she didn’t loose her baby in the river and pray that the backward motion would create enough resistance to slow the exit of a calf.

Fastforward hours and …. {yawns} … hours.

Bambi has wanted to be REALLY close. Yes. If she could go through the front door, she probably would have. Emotional bolstering; Us her people.

So she settled in for a cosie homebirth … in our front garden …..



….. and we watched as our milk bar subdivided, as one cow become two. It was rough yet beautiful, messy yet so wholesome. Nothing dainty or neat about birthing. Pain and mess and effort!

Made me wonder why I try so hard to have life looking so together when it’s obvious that out of the struggle comes life. I should be embracing more of those tricky bits of my existence and call them ‘birthing’.

The next crisis could be me in ‘transition’. Times when I’m most vulnerable, exposed, hurting, overwhelmed, directionless, frustrated .. {place another trillion adjectives here} .. are the times when I am on the verge of newness and life.

And life is gorgeous. Look!.

A chocolate cow. A girl. No freezer coffin for this one. Maybe she will give us some chocolate milk?