It is autumn. I used to kind of hate fall, because I was a summer person and fall signalled not just the end of summer, but of course, the beginning of winter. But sometime in the past few years, I’ve come to absolute love and adore this time of year – for what it is, not for what it is sandwiched between.
I love the cooler temperatures, the chilly mornings. I love the colors. I love pumpkins and apples and every last romantic notion about autumn. Now that I’m an Iowan, I love seeing the crops come down, the explosions of dust along the busier-than-normal country roads, the tractors in the field. I love visiting my farmer when he’s out in a combine or grain cart and riding a few loops around the field with him while he works.
However. There are two things about this time of year that I most definitely do not like.
1. That those few turns around the field with him are pretty much all I get to see of my farmer. For the better part of September, October, November he’s out of bed by 6:30 or so, and doesn’t get home until at least after 8, usually between 10-11pm. Last year, when it was just me and my pregnant belly, it was occasionally lonely but no big deal. Now with a rambunctious almost-1-year-old (AHHHH!), it is HARD. Sometimes rain will come and kick the farmers out of the field for a few days, but so far this year, we haven’t had a drop to interrupt harvest significantly. I feel for the single parents, I really really do.
2. The fall slow-down at the clinic. Same as last year, business at the clinic came to a screeching halt the day the kids went back to school. It picked up a bit the weeks following, but has settled into a generally slower pace, not nearly the almost-crazy hustle and bustle of summer. It’s slow. Expectedly slow, but still. Slow. Not like we’re going to have to close forever and file bankruptcy, but still. Slow. You get the idea.
Last week marked the 2-year anniversary of the clinic. Can you believe it? I can’t. I still can’t exactly believe that I managed to start and succeed (so far) at business, let alone at being a veterinarian. Good stuff.