Finding a New Routine

In response to a friend’s beautiful social media tribute to Sami after the Gold Country Fair concluded earlier this month, I replied that I had a Sami-shaped hole in my heart. I’m also finding I have a Sami-shaped hole in my daily routine.

Before Sami got sick, we divided the animal chores. I would take care of the commercial sheep flock each morning; Sami would take care of the animals here at the house. The morning chores at the house usually took Sami about 20 minutes; my morning sheep chores often take longer, especially if they include pasture irrigation or checking lambing ewes.

Up until the third week in August, when I started back to work, I had help with chores from our daughters. One of them would generally take the morning chores at home, while I’d do my normal sheep work. But now that we’re all trying to get back to “normal” (whatever that is now), all of the chores are mine. I absolutely don’t mind doing them, but I have a greater appreciation for how Sami’s work allowed me to do my own.

My non-animal morning routine has also changed. I’m trying to go for a walk before work (or on weekend mornings) at least four days a week. During Sami’s illness, I became addicted to the LA Times crossword, which I do every morning with my coffee. I am trying to keep a journal, too - and morning seems to be when I’m motivated to write in it. With all of these things (plus breakfast) on top of my animal chores, I need to be getting up around 4:30am! I’m an early riser, but not that early!

I also find that I’m trying to be open to new routines - and to new ways to approach my old ones.I’ve struggled with whether to keep my sheep. I realized this weekend that I could let go of thinking of the sheep as a business - at my current scale of operation, they are an excuse for me to be outside every day, and a way to put meat in my freezer, as well as the freezers of my extended family. Most of you are probably saying “DUH” as you read this, but for me, it’s been a revelation. It means I can pay someone to irrigate occasionally during the summer months so I can travel - and not worry about the impact to my profit. It means the sheep would become my exercise program, my therapy, and my hobby.

But I’m also trying to be open to new ways of working with sheep more generally. Perhaps there are other ways for me to continue to pursue my passion for sheep-raising (and for the products sheep produce) without having a 7-day-a-week, 365-days-a-year obligation. We’ll see.

I’ve also relied on technology to help me settle into a new routine. I’m not a cat guy, and yet I have a cat (Simba, an obnoxious 10-year-old orange tabby). I have had to set reminders in my calendar to clean his litter box (he “reminds” me to feed him, mostly by jumping on the counter as I’m making coffee each morning). The reminders to clean out the end product of feeding him are annoying, but necessary (and helpful). As a side note, if anyone wishes to adopt a middle-aged cat….

I suppose all of this is part of coming to terms with - and moving forward with - my grief. I don’t miss Sami because I’m having to do her chores. I miss Sami because I know how much she enjoyed doing her animal chores (as I enjoy mine). I miss being able to ask her little questions about the sheep, or teasing her about the cat. I miss her practicality and her ability to help me understand the little (and sometimes, big) problems that arise when any of us care for animals. I miss her terribly, and yet I also think that establishing a new routine - caring for ALL of our animals - honors her love for our life and our animals. My routine (much like me) is a work in progress.