13 December 2021

Sorting Bulls

I got hurt sorting bulls.

It sounds so cool and leaves so many opportunities for the imagination to form terrible and fascinating pictures of what could have happened. Ferocious fighting bulls, horses tripping, danger, excitement, the romance of the west. That make me look like a cool cowgirl, out there doing tough cowgirl things.

I fell off my 4wheeler.

That one doesn’t have quite the same ring to it. It brings to mind working cattle ‘farmer style’ in the mud and muck. The pretty clothes out of the picture with muck boots, probably overalls, replacing silk scarves and big hats.

As usual with life, the truth is somewhere in the middle.

The kids and I did great. The bulls needed sorted out of the cows. Why? Because it had been decreed that it was time I guess, after they had been running with the cows most of the year, it was suddenly time to pull them. My husband had left the house well before we left to go to church. He was off to go feed and fix a waterer that had been blowing fusses and freezing solid. When we got home he was still working on the waterer. That was when I learned that the bulls needed sorted. After a quick lunch he went back to fighting damage from mice in an antique.

I decided that we could help him out a little. The kids could manage a gate. I could probably get the bulls out by myself with my trusty green mount.

The kids did great. Bulls can be dangerous. Not because they mean to be. Usually they’re just so big they run things over by accident. We are no more to them than a fly we swat halfheartedly. I told them what to do, to get well away from the gate if a bull was coming. That playing around it would probably be enough to keep anything else from getting near. It worked wonderfully. Four bulls quietly and easily brought from the herd and out the gate. I was starting to worry about one of them deciding to come back in and the kids not noticing it coming from behind. They were in the long lane that runs between the feed bunks. The bulls were mostly standing happily eating the calves ration. But no, I couldn’t just leave them be.

I called the kids to come with me. We shut the gate on the main bunch so nothing else could join us. Then started the simple task of pushing them up the lane. Of course the boss bull was in front. He was eating happily and didn’t want to move. The other bulls coward and shied, then the fighting started. In the tight confines of the alley. Realizing the hopeless idiocy of y plan I ordered the kids off the 4wheeler. Get on the bunks, or into the empty pen next to us for that matter. They wouldn’t know trouble was coming or move fast enough to get out of the way if the bulls ran over the 4wheeler in their fighting. The bulls wouldn’t notice at all.

With them out of harms way I tried a bit longer to move the bulls. Daisy quit the chase early, looking reproachfully at me for my silly ideas. My throat got sore from yelling. Two of the bulls went by and off the other direction. Guess that wasn’t going to work. The kids were playing in the snow of their newfound playground. Daisy had gone to the house. It was me and my trusty green mount.

We went back to look through the herd again, not having any idea how many bulls we were supposed to be getting. One more was standing out in the open looking at us. Pushing him towards the gate I was able to yell for a child to leave their play and go get the gate for me. Five bulls sorted out of the cows. Five my tired, cow hating husband wouldn’t have to mess with.

Going back into the herd to check for more bulls I saw an old cow. Lame and bony, she would do better out of the main herd and in a pen being fed with the couple of other special needs cows. I sorted her out and started easing her towards the gate. There was a bull standing in the way. I yelled for a child. My son came but stopped at the fence across from the bull. We had no way to go.

Then, next to me my husband appeared! Finished with the tank he was coming to finish the sorting. I yelled to him to go get the gate. He went without enthusiasm. The cow and I waited. In the waiting she decided she would really rather go back to the bunch. 4wheelers don’t maneuver as well as a horse. Instead of pivoting and easily stepping over to block her I would have to make big circles, back up, and generally be unhandy. So much easier to just hop off my mount and stop her on foot. I jumped off and leaped forward to hold her. My feet went right out from underneath me in the slick wet snow.

My brain took a snap shot of the moment we crashed, my brain and I that is. It happened in slow motion that moment, hanging there part way down forever as my mind recorded the wreck and the impossibility of changing anything. My foot went out to the side, I couldn’t bring it back into line where it should be, something in the back of my calf snapped. Then my butt landed solidly in the snow and there I lay. The cow stood over me looking confused and somewhat horrified. Maybe embarrassed for me. Silly human. Gasping for breath I tried to decide how badly my leg was hurt.

Then in the distance I heard something. The sweet dulcet tones of my husband yelling for me to bring the cow up, the gates were ready. Cussing on the inside I pondered the plausibility of that occurring, then pushed to my foot.  Only one. Although the other did still seem to be attached I felt no desire to stand on it. Luckily my green mount is easier to get on and stay on than my preferred four legged variety. We did bring the cow up and through the gate. Then we did manage to get the two young bulls sorted out of the calves. Luckily there were only five bulls. We had managed to finish that job, just the kids and I, without needing any help from the men. All cool and cowboy like. Only to be brought down by an old lame cow in the end.

By the time the job was completely finished, all the bulls big and small out and run up the lane to there new home by someone more capable than me, capabull? 🤣 I was done. Children called out of the snow where they had spent the remainder of the time playing happily were put to use opening and closing gates to get us home. Then to the couch and some ice. Today I am able to discern that I’m not badly hurt, just wimpy and apparently getting old. At this advanced age I really should be careful about ice and falls.

 

 

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3 December 2021

Christmas Parade ’21

We had so much fun at a local Christmas lights parade last night. It was even more exciting to see a handful of horses in the parade. And one dog the size of a horse.
It’s always impressive to see horses taking this sort of thing well. The big draft horses walked along as quiet and well behaved as could be. Not at all worried by the lights and noise. We talked to the person with the mini after the parade she said the very well behaved little horse was about worn out by the time they walked all five blocks. That’s one way to get them to behave
The dog on the other hand we saw walking home afterwards quite a ways away. He must not have been as worn out by his load.
Maybe next year we’ll haul horses in to our local parade. Not this one. Too far to go at night down a road constantly crossed by deer and elk. We made it home without hitting any but passed one crumpled car who hadn’t been so lucky and deer grazing happily along the road who were kind enough to stay where they were instead of jumping out in front of us.
Would ours do as well as these did? It seems unlikely but it would be fun to try!
The weather for this one was much warmer than usual. We all wore coats but were perfectly comfortable with them unbuttoned. Lots of people gave out hot chocolate. It was good even in the warm weather. On the way home we drove around looking at Christmas lights while we waited to pick up pizza for the kids book-it tickets.
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29 November 2021

Trunk or Treat ’21

We hit Chadron on Friday. The annual Trunk or Treat was great, as always. We went with friends, all of us loaded in two cars together. We got the rowdy bunch and my poor beleaguered husband was happy to drop us off and run for the peace of Walmart. The rest of us enjoyed the last of the warm beautiful fall days.

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1 November 2021

Halloween ’21

October has been so full of festivities that by the time Halloween proper rolled around I was exhausted. The kids weren’t and that is the important thing.

It was cold all day. We worked inside on shelling beans, freezing brussel sprouts and fitting in one last little bit of Halloween WOW and LOTRO. When evening rolled around we bundled up nice and warm then headed out into the chill.

That wasn’t actually all that chilly. I had forced layers of long underwear, coats, and gloves onto the children. They quickly discarded them. The weather was actually just about perfect. It’s supposed to be cold on Halloween. Even with the hint of mist in the air we all stayed warm walking as fast as we could, anxious to get to the next house and the next treat. We had planned on doing one street. They finished that in record time and we decided to go down the next one, then the next, and the next. They canvased most of the town and we were still home well ahead of bed time!

The littlest of the children had a hard time keeping up with the big ones. One of them crashed a few times right on his head in his rush to keep up and enjoy the fun. Luckily his trusty hat saved his face. He wore out quickly and retired to the car with his father who was as easily tired of trick or treating as my darling husband. The men followed in the vehicles, as the women ran behind the children loosely herding them along. No serious injuries were received, no children ran over by cars, we even made it home without hitting any deer!

Halloween was a success.

There’s nothing like a small town Halloween. There are houses where all the children are ushered inside. We stand on the street waiting without worry. All the children we meet we well known to each other. Even if not recognized under the costumes. They join together in bands then separate coming and going through the night. Home made treats are handed out without us worrying about who made them or what could be inside. Supper is traditionally held at the church, a combination of irony and beauty.

 

 

 

 

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28 October 2021

Fall Program ’21

The first grade class dressed up as crayons. The second and third grade classes were all cookies.

 

 

 

 

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15 October 2021

Halloween Party

It was cold and windy for our Halloween party this year. That was alright, we hid in the playhouse. It kept us warm and out of the wind and gave a perfect place to carve and paint pumpkins.

The adults stayed inside at least. The children took turns between painting and carving and running out to climb on the hay bales.

As evening drew near and the sun began to set we moves out to the fire pit. There we roasted marshmallows and hot dogs. Huddled around the fire we stayed warm but managed to avoid falling in.

 

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4 July 2021

Fourth Of July

There’s something about small towns on Independence Day.

They go all out. The populations double. The streets are packed solid. The city parks overflow.

We went to Crawford for their parade. They are THE place to be on the fourth. Arriving early enough to only need to park a few blocks away from the parade rout we hiked to the proper road and found a place with some shade. Of course we knew someone across the street from where we sat. They walked over to say hi, then to visit with the people next to us who they also knew. We knew many of the people in the parade even though it was a good hour from us. Everyone knows everyone.

As a local girl sang the anthem not one person remained seated or left a hat on. The American Legion marched proudly passed carrying the colors. I knew the one carrying the American flag and fondly remembered his telling of crashing a plane somewhere overseas and meeting with the boy from a farm across the highway from him in the rescue crew. Or was he the rescue crew. I wished I could sit and talk to him and hear the story again of the joy and surprise of meeting a neighbor from back home while halfway around the world.

We tried to find a happy medium between encouraging the kids to grab the copious amounts of candy thrown out and making sure they didn’t dive under horse hooves or tractor tires. An older gentleman, a complete stranger, that we were sitting next to took to helping them gather as much candy as they could. Going out into the road after candy he thought they shouldn’t be taking the chance at getting themselves.

The parade over flowed with horses. Their shoes ringing loudly on the asphalt. The huge teams prancing or plodding as they pulled wagons slowly along. One team of oxen even, the announcer telling how they were used to feed the more lowly cattle all winter.

There were tractors, with darling farm kids driving them. Is there anything cuter than a farm kid proud to drive his tractor in the big parade? Old cars, semis, and the whole fire department worth of fire trucks. It took me a minute to recognize my farrier in one of them. Volunteers everyone of the but they are happy to give up watching the parade to drive in it. The children fully appreciated that and were surprised to hear their names called from inside one of them. A friend from school! They all waved enthusiastically.

The motorcycles made the ground shake as they rumbled by. I happened to glance down the street as they passed. The view was spectacular. The tree lined street was packed with people. The flags waved, a solid line down the center of the street.

Somewhere people are burning the flag, complaining about this country. Here we still acknowledge it as the place people are flocking to for a freedom, equality, and a chance to strive for the good life. Here we know how good we have it. What could be better than a small town parade?

 

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24 June 2021

Hauling Hay

I didn’t have to get up at five most days for the last week to go rake hay before coming in for breakfast then heading off to a real job all day. That means I don’t get to complain about little things like hauling hay. It’s not a bad job at all really. I can drive a stick shift. I can drive a stick shift with a small child on my lap helping. I think there should be competitions involving that sort of technical difficulties.

Out bouncing around the hay field with a rather heavy child sitting on the leg that had to work the clutch, helping steer there wasn’t much time to pay attention to anything else.

At one point I pulled my phone out to see what time it was.That was when I saw it.

My husband was on the line. The timer said he had been for eighteen minutes! Hoping he somehow hadn’t noticed I held it to my hears and said hi? No one said anything. I quickly hung up.

Because speed mattered at this point.

Slipping my phone back into the holster we went back to driving.

A moment latter my phone rang. It was my husband! Sheepishly I answered. Had he noticed that I had apparently accidentally dialed him? I asked, hoping somehow this was coincidence and he hadn’t.

He had noticed. Not only that but he had set his phone next to him while he worked and listened to me and the child as we talked and drove and pretended he was with us instead. He missed us. We missed him. Not sure I had ever heard anything sweeter I tried talking and driving with my helper on my lap.

That is not an award I would win in my imaginary competition. We had to say good bye.

Maybe I’ll dial him on accident more often.

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22 June 2021

Windmill Repairs

The kids and I spent last summer checking on the heifers. Towards fall we took over the cow herd too. This year we are starting out with the whole bunch.

While fixing fences this spring we found one tank badly in need of banking, piling dirt in around it so the cows, and calves, can reach over the side to get a drink. It was dug and washed down so deep next to the tank that only the cows could reach and only if they stretched clear up and over. That left one little tank for the cattle to drink out of. If it got filled by the big tank once the big tank got full. Which it couldn’t because the side of the tank was getting smashed lower than the over flow by cows standing on tip toes to reach over the side.

I bugged my husband until we all went over and got it fixed!

Today was the first day we were able to get back over and check on the repairs. The tanks looked good.

We went past the heifers. Their tank didn’t look good. It looked empty.

One heifer was in the tank. The rest were standing around looking thirsty. There was water still in the water hole next to it. It wasn’t an extreme emergency. Something needed done though. Soon. I was trying to decide if we could move the herd of yearlings, cow people will understand the issues involved with trying to move yearlings, using only one pickup across a wide open hay field. Or if we should go home and get the pickup and trailer and two 4wheelers.

As always happens when I need him, whether I know it or not, my husband called. He told me to check a few things before jumping straight to moving heifers. I know nothing about working on windmills. He said to look down the pipe and see of we could see the rod down there that the chain was supposed to be hooked to. I couldn’t.

As we were talking about how it wasn’t going to work our son was fiddling around. He held up the pipe that we were looking down. He had unscrewed it! Now we could see, and reach, another six inches down. With the top of the pipe off we could see the rod! Brilliant child.

Hanging up we went to work trying to follow directions and improvise to get them to work. Releasing the break on the windmill we let the wind lower the chain as far down as possible. It wasn’t near close enough to connect the chain coming down from the windmill to the rod it had to pump to bring up water.

All we had on hand were my fencing pliers, one vice grip, a flash light we found in the glove box, and a piece of chain left hanging on the windmill.

Using that we were able to remove the piece that needed to screw onto the rod. We got that, and the spare piece of chain attached to it. screwed onto the rod! The horror that would occur if we dropped anything down the pipe was fresh on my mind and I repeated it continuously to the children. My daughter clung to the chain and the lower half of the concoction as if her life depended on it.
No matter how hard we pulled we couldn’t get the rod up any higher. No matter how much we let the windmill go hoping it would somehow lower itself enough to reach, it couldn’t. When we connected rod and chain, using our spare chain, we could get the rod high enough but couldn’t hold it there to disconnect and reconnect chains.

I was about to give up.

Just when I needed him, my husband called back to see how things were going. Should he leave work and drive over?

From the first time I met him there hasn’t been a time that I really needed him that God hasn’t sent my husband to me. I try not to let myself get too comfortable in the knowledge that he will be there, but he always is.

We told him our problem. He gave us a solution. Take the vice grips off the chain where we were using them to hold the two chunks together. Find some wire, we were fencing after all, we had wire! Use that to hold the chains together. Let the windmill pull the rod up. Quickly snap the vice grips onto the rod to hold it up where it needed to be, disconnect and reconnect the chains where they needed to be.

Duh. So simple but so far out of my ignorant brain.

We went to work at it. Both children had been right there with me this whole time, working as hard as they could. Accomplishing every bit as much as I was. What good kids and what a great learning opportunity.

With a good bit of trial and error, but no fingers pinched or eyes poked out by wires flying through the air, we eventually got it. We only had to take out bolt back out once to put the pipe back over the chain so we could screw it back on once we had the chain connected. Sometimes the wind died down. As soon as we needed to rod drawn up a gust would come by and turn the windmill. God was with us in so many ways.

Wires removed, nuts tightened on the bolt. break released on the windmill the wind came up steady. Pumping water into the empty tank. It was flowing again. The windmill working beautifully. We had succeeded. To kids, a pair of fencing pliers, one vice grip, and me in my complete ignorance of windmill. And my husband over the phone of course.

 

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