We survived a week of vacation bible school. Last year it was canceled and life was so busy I wondered how we had ever managed to fit it in. This year they had it again and I realized how much easier life had been without. That sounds awful doesn’t it. I agreed to help, with some reservation and reluctance. A few people had declined because of worries about covid. I want my kids to be able to participate so I did it anyway.
One of the themes was God loves a cheerful giver. I was not able to be cheerful about it. There was too much work sitting home undone to worry about. There were times there were two people doing the same job. If I wasn’t needed I would rather be getting my own work done.
The kids had fun though and are learning things far more important than work. That is what is important.
They stood on opposite sides of the stage for the program which made it very difficult to get them both in the video. That and a rath unappealing head that was in the middle and impossible not to capture while trying to video.
For the last couple of weeks The Goblin Child has been meeting a couple of friends after school to practice. They had decided they wanted to do something for the talent show. The parents decided that figuring out what that something should be ahead of time would be a good idea. In the end they developed a simple but fun routine. That one we knew about.
Apparently 8’s class had been working on something too. We had no idea about that one. In fact we almost missed it because I was busy talking to the people who had brought in their trick pony. Thankfully I didn’t stand out there talking for too long!
A couple of weeks ago the kids youngest cousin was up and had her new bike along. The Goblin Child was very upset that a child younger than her knew how to ride a bike and she didn’t. I really thought the bike had training wheels but hadn’t paid much attention and if it got her riding a bike then, whatever.
The next day The Goblin Child decided she was going to ride a bike. So she did. She got on, put her powerful little mind to it, and was riding without help or training wheels.
The bike she was riding was way to small but maybe the low center of gravity helped. We started working on a new bike for her anyway. There was a very nice old bike in one of the sheds. Its fender is decorated with a Chadron bicycle license from 1974, and that’s only the top one. It is mint, except for needing new tires and a chain. Getting those was more than my feeble little mind it capable of so I got frustrated and bought a new bike instead the last time at Walmart. It fit in the trunk of the Buick along with the groceries and a 50 pound bag of calf milk!
She took to the larger bike with hardly any difficulty.
As new book purchases come in I get to see just a little bit of information, a name and where the purchase was from.
Most of the people who buy Understanding Horse Whorls are from the United States, followed by Canada, Australia, and The United Kingdom. I love you guys, don’t get me wrong. It’s just not quite as exciting to see those as it is when the purchases are from places like Costa Rica, Germany, France, Netherlands, Paraguay, or Bulgaria.
My daughter sat down with me and asked where the first person who bought the book had been from (it was the US). That lead us to a search back through my email history and a lesson in geography. We sat down with google maps and searched the world to see where these places were. In Bulgaria we zoomed in and got a street view of a random small town. I would have stayed at that for hours. It was beautiful and so different from here. I would do it the whole world over if there was enough time in a day.
For the fun of it we started a map keeping track of the different countries. All countries the book has sold in are marked. The numbers are not even close to exact. Neither are the places. I let google chose random locations since I have no idea where anyone was from.
One of the things I love about this page is learning about people and their horses from around the world. I now know about the Carthusian strain of Andalusians and the Kaimanawa of New Zealand. There’s always so much more to know though. In the comments tell us where you are from and something about the horse culture in your area. It doesn’t matter where you are from, the US is foreign to many members.
There were only two of the old white face cows left. I watch them carefully every year waiting for heifers. Last year there was one. That was when there were three of the white faces. That one is gone now, old and gaunt she barely managed to raise her last heifer calf. That calf was scrawny but I took a chance and saved her anyway. Genetics are still there even if nutrition wasn’t.
This year I didn’t think the two remaining ones were bred. Until one surprised me with a calf. Then she went down. We tried some doctoring but even if it might have helped she kept stretching her hind legs out behind her as she crawled along on her knees. She wasn’t going to be able to get up.
With the payloader we set out to catch the calf. It was awful. She bellowed and crawled on her front legs as I grabbed the calf and hauled her into the bucket. My heart broke for them both, why couldn’t we wait until she was dead? Why torture the poor girl. The path was already set, the calf caught. No point in arguing for turning the calf loose to try to catch again another time. Not much hope of it being an argument I could win anyway.
On the ride back I sat looking at this darling white face calf. I had watched her since birth, wondering if she would grow out good enough to save. She had so much pink skin. Would she burn too badly? Each eye was graced with a whorl. How could I let her go?
So we ended up with her. I had not wanted to feed any calves this year. We are busy enough without another chore. I want to go see my family. I don’t want to be tied down by yet another job. We have her anyway. Somehow everything is managing to fit in. She was named Rose by one, White Face by the other. Depending on who is feeding her she goes by one or both names. The kids are fighting it but doing a pretty good job of doing the feeding themselves.
I feel awful about her being alone. We are all supposed to be taking the time to hang out and pet her. The goats stayed up with her for a little while. They weren’t happy about it and Rose was scared of them. It wasn’t a great arrangement. Then they left. It didn’t seem worth bringing them back.
The Goblin Child has been wanting to show a bottle calf at fair. I’m trying to figure out how to do 4h. Rose is slowly being halter trained.
While we play with her or take turns feeding. The kids like to climb the small A frame calf hut. It has been named Mount Everest and they happily scale it.
We’ll see how Rose grows out. We have had bottle calves that were able to make heifers before. She is growing beautifully and may be able to stick around. If so she is The Goblin Child’s. We get a brand registered and she can start her own little herd.