Farm Fresh Blog

Dawn came way too early.  I stumbled outside at 7 AM to throw the dogs out. I glanced at the pasture and noted a large brown lump lying on the wet ground. Panic! Oh crap! Musket was down! Musket was down flat! Had he been struck by lightning?! Holy crap! Race to bedroom for clothes and glasses. Return to window. Oh.

It wasn't Musket. It was a log in the burn pile. Never mind. Glasses make a big difference. 

So I staggered back to bed to sneak a little more sleep. A couple hours later the phone rang. The neighbor had a UPS package for me. She also told me how bad the storm had been. Apparently the dogs had not been exaggerating. I put on some rubber boots and went to check out the damage.

My garden had been hit hard. The trucks were okay. Friends down the road had not been so lucky. Hail damage was the news of the day. We were lucky. The garden would survive. The animals were alive. Other Half called to check on us. He stayed on the phone with me as I did morning chores. I'm sure he dearly regretted that.

This is how the morning went:

Our Ruby cow is missing. She must have had her baby last night. Give rest of cattle cubes. Drive to back of pasture to find mother and new baby.  Baby is alive. Baby is dry. As I approach, she stands up. I dump her mom some cubes and walk over to examine her. I report to Other Half that she is a nice little heifer and proclaim that her name is now "Haily."  

Drive out of pasture and note that cows need another round bale of hay. Inform Other Half that I do not have time or energy to do this today. They will survive one more day. I do not want another rodeo of loose cattle. He assures me that the cows will not get out. I tell him that he is smoking crack. The cows WILL get out. I know this because I am tired. It is muddy. I cannot use Border Collies to get them back in because new calves make mothers mutate into Water Buffalo and it's too dangerous for the dogs. He continues to assure me that cows will not get out.  I inform him that Murphy's Law states that The Cows WILL Get Out when you have had not enough sleep, and you do not have time to deal with loose cows in the mud before work. He promises me cows will not get out. I have nagging image of Mother Cow with afterbirth still hanging out her butt. She probably would like a new bale of hay. Whatever . . .

Verbally abuse Other Half for leaving me with this mess - AGAIN!

Cuss Other Half and drive back to get another load of cubes to occupy cows. Snag up some pats of hay for wet horses. Field mouse runs out of hay that I have just picked up. Scream loudly and cuss Other Half. Hear him clarify my screams by saying "mouse" and realize that he probably has me on speaker phone so other agents can hear my rants and ravings. I am not amused.

Drive out to pasture. Continue to snarl about mice, mud, hail, broken windows, cows getting out, and him leaving me with all this responsibility while he jets out of town - again. He listens. I can hear him smile. This pisses me off.

Leave mule near pasture gate while I walk back to get tractor. 

Plan: Cattle will see mule with groceries and follow mule back to their feeder. While they are munching cubes, I will drive tractor with round bale through gate and dump it.

What Happened:  Climb on tractor. Note that seat is wet. Scream to Other Half that seat is soaked. He laughes. Accuse him of laughing. He stifles laugh. Tell him that I can no longer hear him when on tractor. Will talk to him later.

Hang up phone. Sit on wet seat and start tractor. Drive to hay. Spear round bale. Drive to pasture. Park tractor outside gate. Get in mule. Open gate and drive mule through gate. As expected, cows are ignoring mule (after all, they have already eaten once this morning!) Daisy Mae tries to bolt through gate. Run her over with the mule. She backs off. Dancing Cow does a football player move and dodges and weaves her way through the open gate. Cuss Dancing Cow. Cuss Other Half.

Race to trough as the rest of the herd is meandering toward gate. Dump cubes and call them back. They decide to follow the cubes and come to trough.  Thank God. Drive out gate and get on tractor. Drive back through gate with round bale. Dump it. Note that calves have seen Dancing Cow outside the pasture and are creeping through opened gate.

Cuss calves. Cuss Other Half.  Water Buffalo Mother Cow sees her calf exit pasture. She follows her calf.  Crap and Double Crap! Drive tractor out of pasture. Cuss cows. Cuss Other Half.

Call Other Half to scream at him while attempting to round up cattle on foot. Do my best Border Collie imitation and chase calves back toward gate. Mother cows follow calves. Slam gate. Step in water puddle. Mud and water sloshes through a hole in my rubber boot. Let loose on Other Half again. He listens patiently while I scream at the world in general.

Then he tells me that I have time to take a quick nap before work.

"A nap?!!  A NAP?!!!"

Inform him that I must wash and dry clothes so I have a clean uniform to wear to work today. There will be NO NAP today. He listens to me rave and is clearly happy to be six hours away. I challenge him to take a poll among the agents to see how many other wives would cheerfully deal with the situations he leaves for me. He is still amused.

I'm sure his co-workers think I'm insane. On the other hand, I can assure you, if their wives were dealing with 8 dogs, a broken window, 3 1/2 inches of rain in one night, mud in the house, mud in the yard, mud in the pasture, field mice in the feed bin, calving cows, hail damage in the garden, a murder report, and a murder diagram, then they too, I repeat, they TOO, might be just a tad bitchy!  I'm just sayin'. . .