16 January 2026

Wind

All night the house shook.

Our half under ground house sits behind a couple of layers of windbreak. And still the rook felt as though it would lift off any moment.

The cows huddled against the fence in the corn stalks. No good shelter out there. Without snow and not terribly cold, we thought they would be alright. Come morning we would lead them up to the corrals with the tractor and bales of hay. With feed it would be simple to lead them to a more protected place, out of this infernal wind. The cows did not think they were alright. They also did not think it was worth following the feed like they usually do.

Instead they went along only as far as the very top of the hill. Then stalled. There at the crest where the wind hit the hardest. There they would stand and fight, not wanting to go forwards nor back. This is where they have been fed. This is where they will go no further.

I was feeding the calves. When done I was to wait there and cut the netwrap off the bales. Looking across the corn I could see the top of the payloader. Then it was gone again. Then it would come back. Finally my husband came over the radio. The cows would not follow. Could I come chase them.

I took a deep breath and looked across the cornstalks and hay ground. The sky was brown with dirt. The wind howled and pulled every drop of dry powdery dust up from between blades of dry withered grass. Bare fields weren’t required to let the dirt blow. My phone showed 24 degrees.

Those cows are mine. I want them. They are my responsibility. Fighting down reluctance and that inner voice that begged to say no I answered. I’d be right out with a 4wheeler.

My husband my not like cows, but he does like me. He ordered me to bring his suburban despite my fear of ruining the tires on corn stalks. That did sound better than fighting wind and dirt on a 4wheeler.

At the gate I clung to the door as the wind caught it. I was able to slow it’s opening crash, but not prevent it. Getting back in there was no way I could pull it shut against the wind, until I pulled the suburban through and sideways. Then it slammed shot. Grimacing as sharp corn stalks met the tires I tried to avoid as much as possible, keeping wheels between rows. My cows are usually, helpfully, trained, to come to vehicles instead of moving away. I wasn’t sure I could actually chase them with the suburban. Parking I chased the cows on foot.

It was working!

Kind of. They would move away. Then stand and look. Moving back and forth behind the bunch meant half the time going into the wind. With it at my back it wasn’t so bad. Had to brace to keep from blowing over. Lean hard into the force of it. Turning to face into it wasn’t quite as fun. It was better than when there is snow and wind.

The full force of wind like this sucks the air from your lungs. Breathing becomes impossible as you suffocate from an excess of air. The complete inability to take air in is shocking at first. Then becomes scary. Even when expected after years of  experience. Tucking my mouth into my sweatshirt I tried again. No help there. The wind whipped through the cloth. Dang. That usually helps. Turning my back to the wind again I was able to get a few breaths, but not see where I was going or effectively chase cows. Forward and back. Each way just long enough to accomplish the desired task. Then back to the suburban to move it up and get a brief respite.

Until the cows were coming back harder than I could keep up with. My husband leaped out of the payloader and ran to help chase. I realized that my hat was gone. With brief tears, only on the inside, for my beloved hat, I ran. Ran after cows. Ran back to the suburban when I realized it was hopeless. There was my hat! It had hung up on a corn stalk. Yay!

In the suburban I picked up my husband who had cows streaming around him on each side. Nothing to lose. Might as well see if they would run from a vehicle.

I chased and honked and quit worrying about corn stalks through tires.

And the cows moved!

I should have done this in the first place. Then maybe my teeth wouldn’t crunch with the grit between them every time I closed my mouth. Slowly they worked towards the tractor. My husband was easily able to beat them to it. He lead them again. Although they were still not doing their usual great job of following. I was mad by then. And the chase was on. They would move. Whether they wanted to or not.

Finally through the gate out of the first field and into the next, the one over the hill and slightly sheltered, they remembered where they were. That there was the shelter of corrals ahead. That they like following their feed. Off they went. I carefully followed the rows of corn around the edge. Corn stalks will stick through combine tires. Weak little street tires are nothing. Along the way I stopped to pull the covers that had been ripped off the planter off of the electric fence and wedge them as much as I could under the planter. Although the ropes were shredded, at least they hadn’t blown off across the field.

With extra bales out for the cows we hauled a couple up to try to save the n laws 4wheeler shed. An interesting contraption with a pickup topper for a roof and plywood for sides it serves as shelter for a 4wheeler right outside their door. It has seen better days and nearly blew away in the last wind storm. We propped it up with bales. And were finally done for the morning.

Except for getting equipment put away. We took turns. One holding the big sliding doors against the wind while the other quickly pulled the equipment inside the quanset. The closing the doors before they could be ripped of the rails. I couldn’t get the worst one shut alone and needed help with the wind blowing it so hard against the tracks that it would barely slide.

Now, cows sheltered and fed, equipment as safe as we can get it, I can sit in the house for a bit and think about how pioneer women went crazy in this wind. About how easy it would be to join them.

Category: Cows | LEAVE A COMMENT
8 January 2026

Knees

I was standing at the kitchen table chopping potatoes, preparing supper. Talk about ignoble ways to get injured. The stupidity of it all boggles the mind.

It took nothing more than turning, plate in hand, to dump the newly chopped potatoes into the skillet on the stove. I bumped the chair, my chair at the table, with my knee. Next thing I knew my world had narrowed to a single point of light focused on the chair I was now bracing my hands against as my peripheral vision went black. The plate, knife, and potatoes had clattered to the ground. Potatoes scattered across the floor. The plate slowly spinning to a stop the way a penny does as it falls. Got to love those Correlle wear dishes. It didn’t break.

Fully focused on the one spot of light in my world I was vaguely aware of my dog panicking as she darted in circles around me. I reached down to feel my knee. Sure enough. It had done it again.

When I bumped the chair my knee cap slid sideways. It was now sitting off to the outside of the knee. I would have to put it back.

The putting back part always makes me sick to my stomach. It’s worse than the dislocating itself.

Blindly I groped around. Gagging I recognized the joint I could feel as the knee joint. That isn’t something you are supposed to be able to feel. The front of the knee should not be flat. Continuing my blind exploration I found the knee cap. Gave a gentle pull. Nothing. It was locked into place. My stomach was roiling at this point, as it is again now just thinking about it. My knee the single thing I was aware of in the world. Vision completely gone as I focused. Usually it popped right back in. What would I do if it didn’t?

I straightened the leg a little. Or did something. I moved the leg. At this point who even knows what is going on besides the knee cap finally snapping back into place. I stood there one legged sobbing for a moment. The stove was turned on. The floor was littered with potatoes. I was not going to be finishing supper any tie soon. I hobbled one legged to the stove. Shut it off. Grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer. Made it far enough out of the kitchen to reach carpet and collapsed to the floor.

Eventually I texted my husband. He would have to bring the kids home from school. I was not getting up in a few minutes to drive to the bus stop. Then I stayed right there on the floor (Which I am saying in my head as words to the Wolf Creek Pass song, you have to sing it with me. Might have even felt kind of like a plum) My dog was still in panic mode. All hundred pounds of her needed comforting after her terrible experience. She had to lay right on top of me.

Husband and children finally got home. My daughter had googled dislocated knee, because she wanted to see what it looked like. I had to look to, to make sure she found knee cap, not the knee itself. She was pleasantly disgusted. My son watched a video about it. Then searched for exercises that could be done to strengthen the exact muscles that were talked about in the video. He was slightly more useful than she was. It turned into a very enjoyable evening.

This is a common occurrence for me. A wonderful inheritance from my father. It just isn’t usually quite so dramatic. My husband says it is not going to happen again. If it does this in a pen of cattle it could be dangerous. While I agree and appreciate his concern I don’t think there’s any real hope of putting a stop to it. Just need to do those exercises my son found. It’s a bit sore still but nothing bad. Up and going like usual. Just climbing in and out of the feed truck a bit slower.

No pictures because I never am able to remember to grab my camera before I get the knee cap pushed back into place 😉

Category: Uncategorized | LEAVE A COMMENT
3 January 2026

Filling The Water Trough

The weather was beautiful. It’s almost time for school to start again. I really wanted to get the kids out on the horses!

There wasn’t time or energy to invite friend over for them to ride with. They get along great most of the time. Why couldn’t both children go ride together? Who says they have to have some different friend here to ride with?

So I ordered them outside. One of their morning jobs is to fill the water tank for the cattle. This isn’t a turn on the faucet and wait sort of a tank. It’s on the other side of the pivot and is filled out of the same pipe that supplies water to the pivot. It pumps a LOT of water. The tank is filled in a minute or so. It’s a big and very important job. If somehow the tank doesn’t get shut off thousands of gallons of water will be flooding the field. On the bright side, it would be pretty hard to miss noticing the thunder of water being spewed forth while it runs. Not something you can walk away from.  If it doesn’t get done the cows will die of thirst. Of course they’ll probably complain to us loudly before that happens. But still. It’s a very big job for two kids.

Why not send them out to do the second filling in the afternoon? Even better, why not send them out on horses!

It’s not a long ride out there. Not quite a full mile out and back. But it is a ride with purpose. Having a good reason to do something always makes it more fun. But I didn’t want them rushing out and back. It would be nice if they could do more riding than just out and back. Extra rule; no computers for two hours from the time they get on the horses. There. Now they should want to hang out and  enjoy the ride

My daughter went happily. She would never admit to wanting to go for a ride, but she did seem enthusiastic.

My son did not want to go. He had a whole list of things he would rather do. Not that he had been doing. He had been sitting in front of a computer. A terrible waste of a day like this. He pouted and whined and refused to go.

My daughter, being her usual snarky, sarcastic, brilliant self, said “get his leadrope. If he doesn’t want to go I’ll just pony him.” Of course there was more to it than just that. There were the thoughts of things she could make him do if she was in charge. Where and at what speed she could lead his horse. While he was the helpless passenger.

So I got her the rope. Off they went. Not with ease or speed. She’s never ponied a horse before. Luckily her mare has spent most of her life roping. She was fine with ropes under her tail. We had a talk about never tying the rope anywhere and the wrecks that could cause. It took them many minutes to get out of the yard. Horses going opposite directions. Everyone spinning in circles. Careful and willful malicious compliance on my sons part made life very difficult. He was not going to help himself be lead. He was enjoying the mayhem.

Finally they were off down the driveway. Or somewhere. A large part of them learning about horses this way is me staying out of it. Letting them figure out for themselves how to solve problems and convince the horses to work with them.

Not quite an hour later I stepped out the front door, making sure no loose horses had come back and were standing at the fence line. Nothing there. But through the trees next to the house I spied horses with riders. They were just standing. Talking. Grazing. They had made it back They would want help unsaddling shortly. I wen back inside and got ready. Still no children. I went back out to look again. Now they were sitting on the horses next to the trailer. Not moving. Just sitting there staring into space.

Why, children, why do you sit here doing nothing?

Did I mean that they could get off the horses before the two hours were up?!?! They hadn’t realized that. They thought they had to be on horses for two hours.

Yes, the tank got filled. Yes, they went for a nice ride by themselves. NO, they are not as brilliant as they sometimes think they are. Oh well, it still worked and we’ll have to try it again tomorrow.

Category: 8, Goblin Child, Horses | LEAVE A COMMENT
13 December 2025

I Just Need A Minute

There are so many jokes out there about farm and ranch husbands calling their wives away from cooking or cleaning or whatever horrid house work they’re doing to come help outside for ‘just a minute’. Of course in the joke the minute turns out to be hours. The meal is cold, or burnt. The clean pretty clothes she was wearing are trashed. Se’s grouchy.

Why are there no jokes about the wife doing that?

I believe this is a terrible act of sexism.

Today we lived the joke. But in the proper direction. With the wife as the antagonist.

My children had been working hard all morning. We sent them out into the cold with a list of chores to remember. They called regularly to check in and make sure they were getting everything done and done properly. They did a very good job. Then I gave them permission to go inside where it was warm.

Then, as I continued my work outside, I ran into their father. He had more work for them to do and wanted to know why they were back inside already.

Ooops. My bad. Guess they were carefully checking in with the wrong person. So maybe this does fall a little into the usual trope.

I called my daughter. They had just gotten inside and stripped the layers of warm clothes this weather requires. “could you please come back outside?” I asked.

There were deep sighs and groans from the other end of the line. They had JUST gotten undressed. WHY did I tell them they could go in if I was going to ask for more work of the poor beleaguered souls.

“Get out here” I ordered. “It wont be so bad. We just need you (meaning the younger of them who is willing to drive but the older needs to go too for moral support and because it’s not fair to only make the youngest do the work) to come drive the feed truck. You probably don’t need to put coats back on. You’ll just be sitting in the feed truck.”

So out they came. With very little grumbling which I must give them credit for. I delivered the truck to them then went for the payloader. We got it loaded with very few problems as we all tried to remember from last year how this was done. Chatting back and forth over the radio, they were cheerful and not complaining about the work dropped on them after they had been dismissed. It was warm in there and they were fine in the sweatshirts they had come out in. They parked the feed truck and thought they were done.

Then we found more work for them.

I was taking a bale out to the cows because the cows had heard the equipment running. So they had come running. Now they were plastered up and down the fence line complaining about being starved. They may be slightly spoiled and I hate to see them look sad. So I was getting a bale, but wanted help with gates and twine. My husband was cleaning out the lane of the feedlot and wanted help there too.

He got our son, the one that will drive. I got our daughter, the one who will walk amongst the cows. Neither job was inside. It was cold out. So cold. A bit too cold for even doubled up sweatshirts. And boy was I in trouble. I had TOLD her to only wear a sweatshirt. I TOLD her they would be inside the feed truck. Why would I lie to her like that.

I mentioned that putting on a coat is always a good idea. You never know what you’ll be getting into. I had suggested that they would probably be fine without, ut she is perfectly capable of deciding these things on her own.

No. That was absolutely not true. I had TOLD her to go without. There was no excuse and there would be no forgiveness.

I offered my hat and gloves. They were not appreciated and would not in any way help to keep her warm.

We rushed through getting the cows fed. She told me the whole time how awful I was. She wouldn’t drive the payloader even if it would make the feeding go faster.

With the gate shut behind us we met her brother dashing about on the 4-wheeler. He had been dismissed from his duties. They could go back inside! Finally. The poor mistreated children that I had drug away from their warm place in front of the fire. That I had forced outside without coats. Their computers had missed them and possibly even gone to sleep. How could this damage ever be repaired. Poor, poor mistreated children.

 

Category: 8, Cows, Family, Farming, Goblin Child | LEAVE A COMMENT
6 December 2025

Bringing The Cows Home

We got the cows home today.

The weekend after Thanksgiving works best for us time wise. It’s not deer season and it’s not Thanksgiving. Any earlier would be too early. We need to get corn out and electric fences up and there’s plenty of grass there to hold them.

But the week after Thanksgiving is just too late. The cows are ready to come home. It’s getting colder and colder. They just need to com home earlier.

Hello deer season for next year.

Our wonderful neighbors who let us use their corrals to haul them out of also come along to help get the cows moved out of the pasture and into their corrals. They were out in the brisk morning when we got there and ready to go. We had to run into the wind to get to the cows. It was cold. Have I mentioned that? We got to the pasture gate and my ears were froze. They asked why I didn’t put up the hood on my sweatshirt. Obviously because it would just blow off. So, why don’t I tie it? Tie the sweatshirt hood?!?! But that’s not cool. My husband does it without shame or self consciousness. It’s not something I would ever do!

But it was cold and although we had made it to the pasture we still had to go across the pasture. So I tied my hood up and you know what? It was SO much warmer.

We split up at the pasture. Two in each direction. My son with my friend in one direction. Hopefully the shorter easier way. Her husband and I the other way. The long run to the far side of the pasture. My daughter and husband waited at the road to make sure the herd went the right way when we got there.

I stopped to shut off the tank. By the time I got the solar pump unplugged he was way ahead of me. To the other side of the pasture already. Wow he’s fast. I started to follow, then looked behind me to see my darling Ghost leading most of the herd at a trot in the exact wrong direction. So I turned around to try to turn her.

She turned right around and with the whole herd following went in the other wrong direction. Back and forth we went across the base of a triangle with the gate we needed at the tip. Then everyone else showed up. My son and friend had found a calf outside of the fence. They got him in. The husband found nothing. All the cows were close at least. With a few more people around we were able to pursued the cows to leave their endless back and forth and turn towards the gate.

At a trot they set out across the next pasture towards the road. They had finally remembered the way home. We got to the corrals with no excitement.

My friend had not only been there and ready to help on a bright and early cold winter morning but she had also made it to the big city before that and picked up donuts! She had delicious food ready for us and hot drinks to warm our frozen fingers. It also made me realize how badly I fail at these things. Talk about goals to strive for.

We started sorting and loading. Got the first semi full. Told him to wait, we just needed a moment to get help to send along. Getting cattle unloaded is easier than loading them, but that still doesn’t make it easy. Help is important. As the helper worked his way out of the corrals, the semi disappeared into the distance. Alone.

Ok. Back tto loading the second semi.

Again loaded I hopped in to ride along with my husband and to help him unload. We didn’t meet the first semi as we traveled down the road and were starting to get worried. My Ghost cow was on there. Hopefully nothing went wrong.

At home the semi was at the chute. The cattle still unloading.

They hadn’t wanted to unload so help had been called. A neighbor made the trip over because we had failed to send anyone to help unload. How terrible of us.

Cattle unloaded the first semi pulled away from the chute. And stopped. My husband was able to squeeze around it enough to get backed up. The neighbor and I started unloading while my husband went to see what was going on.

The semi had died there. Issues that were thought to have been fixed by a recent trip to the mechanics had not actually been resolved apparently. Luckily it had waited until he was away from the chute to break. We could still unload. And go for the rest of the cows with just the one semi.

Back to the corrals we started loading. Then the phone rang. He had gotten the semi running and was on his way.

The semi made it over and home again without breaking completely. The weather had warmed up enough that we all were quickly shedding clothes. The bulls, yes, still in the herd, only got in one big fight. As the rest of us cleared the fences my friends husband dove into the middle of the fracas flag whipping about, screaming, dust flying. Most importantly no one dying. From the relative safety of outside the fence I pondered this new evidence that I will never be a true cowboy. That great feat would never have occurred to anyone else there I think. All in all the day went wonderfully.

At home the cows dove into the bales we had ready for them. They can hang out int he corrals tonight. Rest. Find their calves. Tomorrow we will let them out on cornstalks. I think, no, I know they’re happy to be home. I also know I’m happy to have them here. Next spring we’ll all be just as happy to go the other direction.

No pictures because I was slightly busy and my fingers were frozen.

Category: Cows | LEAVE A COMMENT
18 November 2025

Gardening Game

For awhile now my husband has been talking about making a game about gardening. Something peaceful and relaxing. No rush and stress, just planting a garden.

Last night he came home and sat down at his computer after supper. He pulled up a screen full of words and told me to play.

Not being a gamer myself I was a bit confused at first. How is this a game. How was I supposed to figure out what all those lines of text meant? There was a spot at the bottom of the page to enter one number. All of that text, and one number to chose.

After stumbling around the first few times I started to get the hang of it. It WAS fun!

All the text was telling me how my garden was doing. What needed watered. What was ready to harvest. what price the crops were selling at. After the first couple harvest cycles I went from broke to actually making a bit of a profit and the lines were making sense and becoming easier to read.

While I played on his computer he sat the kids down on their computers. They had screen with colors and boxes. He explained to them how to draw using pixels.

This is right up my daughters ally. She loves designing minecraft skins and has a pretty good following on one of the skin sites. Her work is gorgeous. She quickly got the idea and created some wonderful vegetable designs for a not completely text version of the game.

My son wasn’t quite as into that art stuff. He came over and took over the game I had started. He’s not overly fond of reading, so there were some doubts about his interest in the screen full of text. He caught on right away and went right to producing crops.

My husband had made his game. Or started on it. He kept coming up with more ideas on improving it and has the not text version to finish still. Hopefully he and the kids can spend many more evenings together refining and completing their gardening game. Everyone was enjoying it immensely and it’s something they can play with fr years into the future. Maybe they can even make more games!

Category: 8, Family, Goblin Child | 1 Comment on Gardening Game
25 October 2025

Halloween Party

It wasn’t planned. Not really.

8 had been promising his good friend a sleepover once his new cabin was finished. So of course we had to have the friends sister over too for 8’s sister. Then a friend texted about doing horse stuff together. Why not do it all at once and make a party of it!

The friend brought along her daughter and the daughters horse. All three girls took off riding. Me and the mom took her big beautiful new horse into the corrals and played.

When the girls got back my son, whose horse had been commandeered by a girl, rejoined them and both of my children managed to get stung by wasps. How in the world they managed that within and hour of each other when they’ve gotten this far in life without ever being stung I don’t know.

We carved pumpkins then roasted marshmallows and even a couple hot dogs for supper over a fire.

The kids didn’t play outside, in the dark, on the hay bales. It was too cold. The wimps.

This morning the boys went off to help dump the load of corn on the semi, help get semis up and running. They helped move them to the places the semis needed to be to dump cor in them. Then they jumped in the combine for a ride. I haven’t had any updates since then, but I’m betting they are spending some time playing in the corn in the grain trailers. Always a great time.

The friends horses both went home with the mom yesterday. So the friend who rode out with her own horse yesterday didn’t have one to ride. Pulling up my big girl pants and trying to be brave I put my daughter on my horse, Rusty. She used to ride him all the time, just never usually off a lead. She’s been riding Jerry lately and her confidence has been growing by leaps and bounds. Having friends there to watch also serves to make you brave, or at least to act that way. They rode around the yard for awhile first to make sure everyone was comfortable. The friend who has her own horse rode Jerry. The friend who comes to ride our horses regularly rode her preferred mount, my son’s horse, Lady.

Then they all headed out.

Rusty is a very good boy, but can be energetic. Lady is wonderful, but was extra zippy on their ride yesterday. Jerry can get really zippy too occasionally but her rider runs barrels and knows how to ride. Surely they’ll be fine. I waited, watching the horizon nervously for awhile. Looking for a horse to come running back without a rider. There was nothing. I finished my outdoor chores and texted my daughter before heading in. They were at the far corner of the property and still heading. I asked her to keep me updated with some idea of where they were please.

Next time I heard from her they were at the other far corner of the property and thinking about going farther. Or coming back. Who knows. Teenagers don’t exactly text clearly. But they made it that far on a cool windy morning. Hopefully the horses will be tired enough to walk home again. Walk being the important part of that. If they were going to act up, hopefully they already would have. I am loving this. We need to have friends over to ride way more often!

Category: 8, Goblin Child, Horses | LEAVE A COMMENT
7 October 2025

Full Moon Freeze

The science still says that a full moon has nothing to do with frost.

One month ago we had our first frost. On the eve of a nearly full moon. It’s been warm after that. Until last night. When under the full moon it froze again.

Not hard I don’t think. The garden wasn’t black yet when I was out this morning to look. Need to go look again now that it has warmed up some more. But I will not believe that the first frosts aren’t related to the full moon!

Category: Garden | LEAVE A COMMENT
14 September 2025

We made quite the convoy heading off down the gravel road. I got to take the lead in the old truck with a seed tender on back. My husband followed in the tractor and drill. Kids brought up the rear in the pickup.

My job, one of my jobs was to watch the big hills as we went. Make sure there were no cars speeding up the other side who would then meet the tractor which took up the entire road, coming over a hill with disastrous effect. My other job was to get the truck over to the field so my husband could keep the drill full of wheat seed and get the field planted. Hopefully before the chance of predicted rain.

The seed truck is older than I am. It sits most of the year while mice crawl through it and make a filthy stinking mess of the whole thing. I had complained about it enough that they had cleaned the cab out pretty good while getting everything ready to plant. Luckily. I have never had to drive this before and would not have been willing in its usual stinky state. As it was though, as long as I didn’t look at the floor, it was just a nice old truck. Sitting in the driveway as we were about to head off I got my first experience with its clutch. It involved lots of rolling backwards as I struggled to find that sweet spot where clutch and gas meet to make it go forward smoothly. It was much pickier than the semis I had gotten used to. Finally finding it, we proceeded onward.

With only four speeds going through the gears wouldn’t be a problem. I can drive a stick shift. It’s been an extraordinarily useful skill to have in life. If you can drive one stick shift you can drive any stick shift! This one was just a little pickier than others. The semis are mostly easy. I can go up through the gears no problem, loving how cool I feel as I run through them without clutching. Until I have to slow down. Then nothing will do but for me to come to a complete stop and start over in first. Luckily I don’t drive down the highway.

Coming to the first up hill stretch in this old truck I discovered, quite happily, that this one I could downshift! Dropping one gear she was able to pull the hill.

As we plodded along, the tractors top speed under these circumstances was not quite 20 mph, I got bored with the ease of things and called my grandma. Might as well talk while we made the drive.

Chugging along at almost top gear, 4th gear but low range, we chatted away. With all the weight of the full load of seed on going up hill required going down a gear. Until we reached THE hill. It is a steep down hill, from this direction. Then the road we need to take Ts off to the north going straight back up. the combination of having to stop to make the turn and then the steep hill climb makes life interesting with any sort of a load on. I’ve gotten stuck here before. In much simpler vehicles. A pickup and trailer with a load of calves going to pasture stalled out at the base of THE hill once. It required backing the dead pickup downhill and around the corner in order to try a few more times before giving up. There’s also very limited to no phone reception there. No calling for help. I had to wait until my husband, in the semi with the mama cows realized we weren’t behind him any more.

In the seed truck I made the corner in third. It’s geared really low. And started the climb. Then I realized that I was not a very good driver. I was used to automatic pickups and semis loaded light enough that they could chug right through the hard pulls.

I had been warned that the seed truck ran great, as long as it was running, but would not start again while warm if it was shut off for any reason. Or if I killed it running in too low a gear or failing a down shift.

Phone propped on my shoulder I begged the truck to keep going. My grandma on the other end was listening to my pleading as I cut in and out wanting to know what in the world was going on?! Was I ok? Who was I talking to?? I ignored her for the moment focusing on the very important matters at hand. It was apparent I would need to down shift as the engine chugged hard. Pushing in the clutch the truck came to a complete stop. On the steep hill. My mind flashed back to highschool. To the stop light on the drive to school, on a hill, cars everywhere. This stop was just as terrifying, if the dangers were slightly different. My trusty old Toyota pickup had never quite rolled back into the car behind us. Maybe I could keep this old truck from dying too.

Jamming it into 2nd, 1st was iffy and I had been told not to worry about it, I floored the gas and let out on the clutch.

The engine roared, the clutch slipped, the truck lugged slowly up hill.

I did it! I down shifted 🤣

Such a silly thing to be such a huge deal. The excitement rushed through my veins. I was exultant in my victory! I could drive anything do anything. Good had won the battle over evil. My grandma was still talking in my ear. Her voice heard once again now that the battle was over. She was done talking to me. She’d had enough. But I had been battling the hill and the clutch! She would talk to me another time. Oh well, not everyone can appreciate a battle fought. The few seconds had felt like hours. Apparently they had felt like hours to her too.

Shortly after the hill we got to the field waiting to be planted. My husband got out of the tractor and greeted my with “You nearly lost it on that hill didn’t you” He had realized the battle being waged. He grinned at me. I grinned back. Then they put the first load of seed in the drill.

Category: Farming | LEAVE A COMMENT
9 September 2025

Privilege

My husband called as I was elbow deep in meal preparations. He needed a little help, could someone come out to the field please.

After putting in almost a ten hour day, he had left the town job a little early so he could get home and plant some wheat. He and the kids had spent a large portion of the weekend getting machinery ready to go. Now during the work week he was getting started. No weekends or evenings off for him.

The kids had come home from school and were enjoying a bit of computer time. I ordered them out the door with only minimal, token complaints.

Cutting vegetables and finishing the meal I kept a watch out for them all, worried they’d be in and starving before I got the meal finished. No sign of them. Out to the garden to get it ready for the night and pick whatever was ripe and easy to serve alongside the meal, I heard the tractor in the distance. They were finally headed in.

Husband in tractor, one child on the drill, and the other following with the 4wheeler, they pulled into the yard to park for the night. It had been a long day. Watching the children work alongside their father I couldn’t have been happier. He is the hardest working man I know. Other than my father, and grandfather, and my brother. All the men in my family actually. Hard working men who give everything they have to take care of their families.

My dad took me out with him when I was young. Taught me a little about working on cars and even less about carpentry. But those weren’t the real lessons anyway. What I was actually learning was that I was valued, that he knew I was as capable as anyone else of working hard and getting the job done. My daughter spent a good deal of time over the weekend working on pivots with her father. He was teaching her the same lesson and it was wonderful later to hear her brag about the hard work she had been doing. The lesson was sinking in already.

It’s sad to see girls whose fathers don’t care about them the same way. Who never take the time or care to make their daughters, or sons even, go out and do the work with them. The privilege of knowing how to work hard and get the job done, of having a father who loves them enough to teach them that this hard work is what matters and will get them through life, that is the privilege my children have been born into.

At supper we talked about what they had been doing. How they learned what the dangerous parts of the planter were and how to carefully spread the wheat seed out to get the last bit of the field planted without adding too much seed and needing to clean it all out. Important lessons, but not the ones that matter.

 

Category: Family, Farming | LEAVE A COMMENT