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Groceries replaced by farm supply purchases for this empty nester

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Ruminations
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By
Mavis Fodness, reporter

Trips to the grocery store were frequent during my days as a mother of four growing children. Now, as an empty nester, weeks go by before I need to refill the cupboards and freezer.
I’ve noticed, however, the previous several-times-a-week stops at the grocery store are now replaced with several-times-a-week stops to the farm supply store.
It turns out my other “kids,” the ones of the four-legged variety, are now receiving extra “motherly” attention.
Previously I gave little thought to the daily care of the cats, dogs, rabbits, calves, sheep, pigs, ducks and chickens on the farm. The kids took care of them. (I rarely had to clean the animals’ pens then – maybe twice a year at most.)
And my husband would take care of the horses and cattle, regularly tractoring large round hay bales into their feeders.
For years my chores meant taking care of the little humans with meals, laundry, errands and transportation to activities.
Now all of those previous daily activities are down to me occasionally fixing a meal, weekly instead of daily laundry duties, a few errands, and once-in-a-while transport of the hubby somewhere.
Life without kids at home has certainly become … well … boring.
My attention has gradually turned to the remaining horses, cats and the farm dog left at home.
I now remember to buy treats for the dog and to give one to her almost daily. The cats are fed at least once a day, and the horses receive twice-a-day personal care.
Instead of picking up clothes off the kids’ bedroom floors, I now clean the horse barn daily.
Instead of buying new school clothes, I now search for bargains of new horse blankets and masks to keep the flying insects at bay.
And now Bomgaars has become a weekly stop for cat, dog or horse food.
The weekly feed bill is now larger than those years-ago trips to the grocery story.
While no mother ever admits to her kids that she may have a favorite, around the farm I definitely have my favorites.
The horses and the dog receive the more expensive, name-brand food, but the cats receive meals of the large 50-pound generic bag variety.
Despite my attempts to coax the cats to self-sufficiency and venture away from the farm, they seem content to stay at home and live with their “parents.”
I find myself grabbing a scoop of cat food, and as they flood the barn, I mutter, “Good morning, kids,” with the underlying thought of “When are you ever going to leave home.”

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