When I am hand feeding a young animal like Naomi I do a lot of stroking. I am firm. I mean; the hand that strokes is firm as I feed her. I pretend to be the licking hand of a great big cow. 
She always settles. Lifting her chin for the neck scratch. Moving her belly closer for the flank. The cow mothers lick their babies for weeks. So, even though I am only the mother cow half the time, I still need to meet this deep need in a mammal. Touch. I think there is a link between bodily movements, intestinal movements, physical well being, emotional well being and Stroking. Strong movements towards the heart. Touch. The animal has to trust you. Trust takes a long time. But allowing touch is a quintessential decision. It is Trust.
And yes, I have spent more than half my life as a solitary being. I have always been the wary one. Shrinking away from human touch. I will always put my hand out to shake hands instead of hugging. The hand shooting forward -” keep your distance” it says. Turning my head with a smile so a kiss is always on my cheek. Like a half trained colt it takes me a long time to accept touch. I seek the Touch that comes in many different forms. Touch does not need to be sexual or carry emotional weight. It can be the head of a dog. Or the movement of a hand through earth. The back against a tree. The kiss of air while riding fast on your bike. The graze of fingers across a till at the store. The stroke from the hand of an entirely different species like me stroking a calf. The grip of an elder to steady herself. The snuggle of a child. Touch is magic. Think like a cow. Find your herd.
Do you remember how Mama the big old sheep would lick me, especially my head, as I bent over one of her lambs. How the dogs will lick at the scratches and cuts on my hands. Cleaning. Cleaning. How Tima will nudge, nudge into my legs. How the birds clip the air about my face with their wings. How Sheila will lean. Find your herd.
I wish we all had such un-adulterated touch in our lives. Grown cows will lick and groom each other. Lean into each other. Lie within inches of each other. The Aunties will block the wind for the little ones. The babies will sleep within reach of each other. The big nursing mothers will lean their throats in for a massage. The little ones head butt and play at pushing each other.
People over-think touch. I know I do. Do you think that many farmers are like me? Preferring to hang out with animals where there are no mixed signals, no sub text. Just touch.
Hmm. Ah well.
I have such a long list for today. A delightful list. PLUS I have re-instated the Sunday lunches and was going to make asparagus risotto with lemon zest for my guests today but this cold weather has frozen the asparagus into a watery mess on the ground. So we are having Swedish meatballs with cream and home made egg noodles instead. With piles of home grown greens. Only six for lunch today though.. so no worries. My herd. We feed each other. Food is stroking.
Sunday dinners are like church. In fact a priest I knew once said to me: if you cannot get to Mass on Sunday have a big family dinner instead. It works the same, he said. So… Lunch it is then!
I hope you have a lovely day,
your friend on the farm,
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
45 responses to “Stroking”
what a wonderful feeling person you are..I find you amazing!
Yesterday I quietly marked the 17th anniversary since I lost my soul-mate to cancer. Top of the list: I miss his touch, physically or through a look of concern, understanding or sympathy. I have lived alone for all those years and can go for weeks or sometimes months without human touch. Unfortunately I have discovered that where I live widows do not exist after 3p.m. I am invited for morning coffee, sometimes lunch, but never for dinner. I may not like the touch of soil or baking ingredients on my hands, but give me fabric or yarn and I am in seventh heaven!
There is another form of touch that warms my heart, that is the interaction with bloggers from all across the world. I read, learn, comment and make friends. Thank you Celi, your daily posts touch my heart.
****huggggggggggggs***** Grannymar! I am with you in spirit… I feel what you are saying 🙂
Thank you Mame, I appreciate your huggggggggggggs! I am not complaining or whinging, it was more a note of how life is. I do drive, so go out, taking my camera and it often becomes a conversation opener. I go to the movies or to concerts. I find being on my own people will talk to me, but the conversation ends when I leave the building. Hell, life could be so much worse!
I agree that fabric, yarn and other materials are balm to the soul of a creative person, but I wish you had someone to hug you. Big virtual hugs will have to do for now.
Viv, I make up for it when I go south to Dublin, in fact I often arrive home with aching arms from all the hugging. Today I have about twelve more rows to knit with a very soft and cosy yarn to complete a cape type shawl. On one hand I want it finished, but on the other I want the yarn to keep going. Thanks for the virtual hugs.
It seems to me that touching has everything to do with your ethnic background. Irish people, for instance, are not touchers or huggers. I guess like the English. Maybe it has to do with geography–living in cold sunless climate. This is a cliche, I guess, but Mediterranean folks are much warmer. But animals! I can’t get enough of them.
Equus, I am Irish, born in the South of Ireland (ROI), but have lived for the past thirty seven years in the North of Ireland (UK). Down south we are huggers, but I find the folk in the north so very different. They want to know all about you before fading into the woodwork. Years of unrest and troubles has left people warey of the stranger.
The Daily Cure has expressed what I have been thinking… almost too much to say, so I will sit quietly in the corner and hope my thoughts travel. Such a very deep episode today, Cecilia; I think I need some more time to get to the bottom of it 🙂
I hope your day is a perfect one — enjoy your dinner mates. Mame
A beautiful post. It resonates so, and mirrors my own experience/s. Well said and well done. Thank you!
I rarely read all the replies to one of your posts Celi but today I just had to and couldn’t stop. Your post ‘touched’ me and many others. I too wish for un-adulterated touch … I go to a government office in social services every day to work and your post reminds me to reinstate something I have practiced in the past …whenever an opportunity to touch presents itself, I will do so, being careful and sensitive to those who don’t really want that touch. I have seen it soften stressed workers and change connections. I have done Healing Touch or Therapeutic Touch and I find it absolutely amazing the healing of simple touch and energy can be. Loved this post.
This is a beautifully written post, c.
You have to get used to cheek kissing here in Italy…everyone does it.
Oh C. that photo of Naomi is just beautiful…she is a vision! A black beauty! Beautifully written post about touch…now I feel bad about hugging you when we first met before I knew your deep down feelings about the touch from a stranger…(although I didn’t feel we were really strangers)…but like Equus says…Mediterranean folks are warmer and I am Italian, so that explains it! You’re lucky I didn’t kiss you on both cheeks! 🙂
Hey Celi .. Touch is magic, comforting and connecting. I do love the way you write and your words carry so much wisdom. Enjoy your yummy lunch
Naomi is just beautiful!!! Her coat is incredible…I want to hug & kiss her!
Robin🐥
Eha’s story for the day: During the 15-odd years I lived well north of Sydney I used to stay with a female doctor friend [we completed our degrees together] whenever in my home-town. Weekends she oft spent at medical conferences: arrived back one Sat afternoon with her two children and myself at home. Grinned, called us to her and began giving us each hugs one after the other – counting to 23 for each!! By the end we were hysterical with laughter. Very seriously she ‘explained’ that each human being needed 23 hugs [literal or verbal] every day for mental and physical welfare: we had just had ours for the day :D!! Estonian-borns tend to be awfully reserved: haven’t a clue how I was ‘touchy-feely’ from my early childhood: hugs and kisses to almost virtual strangers!!! Once upon a time when I get to Illinois . . . I’ll watch out 🙂 ! . . . .
I felt so moved by your words about touch, I got tears in my eyes.
Lovely words and wisdom Celi… touching is heaven I often think…. and sitting together round the table eating is a blessing too, as you and your priest so eloquently remind me… sadly, as my family have grown up and scattered, it rarely happens now in this house, and I’m giving my big un-used casseroles and serving dishes away..
ah well there is a season… etc …
As one of the characters in a novel says about hugs: “It’s so simple, so easy to give, a gentle gift filled with the power to heal and help.”