Back to Work

I am back to feeding the calves this week. Over Christmas break My multi-talented husband who is the preferred assistant did the honors. Then half of the calves were gone so it wasn’t worth making my mother-in-law baby sit. More calves have arrived and so I am back to work. I missed it strangely enough. I was thinking about that as I broke ice in the tanks in four degree weather. My fingers and toes were numb with cold as water splashed onto my clothes and face freezing instantly on contact while the rest of me sweated. My arms ached until I thought I wouldn’t be able to lift the bar one more time and I was so happy to be getting some exercise. Or I was thinking that until I broke through the ice and whacked my self on the head with the solid metal bar. Then I just thought owww.

That proved to be some what of a theme for the day.

After feeding we put out new lick tubs out for the cows. Against my better judgement I hoped onto the payloaders bucket with the lick tubs where I clung for dear life during a bouncy ride to the pasture. This seems like a very bad idea to me but every one else does it so I figure it must be alright. I survived the trip out and he sat the bucket down to unload the first tub. I put my back into the unloading attempting to rest a couple hundred pounds of molasses and mineral to the ground. Rocking the tub to its side to roll it out I smashed my fingers between them. Back onto the bucket for a ride to the next unloading spot I looked down to see my dog hunting rabbits between the loader and the wheels. I yelled at her and she ran around to find me as the payloader rumbled forward. She seemed destined to join Zip. Finally she gave up and ran off after other prey.

It was a short trip to our next destination. Having determined that this was the perfect spot for the next tub my father-in-law promptly tipped the bucket successfully unloading me if not the tub. I stumbled back a few steps stopping to look up at him as he continued to tip the bucket. He looked back at me and then at a spot over my head. Looking surprised he stopped the movement of the loader. I looked up to see what was there. Maybe two inches over my head hung the point of the grapple. I think that would have hurt worse than the metal bar.  My formerly much loved husband informed me that he usually just hangs on to the support arm for the grapple and stays in the bucket for this exciting ride. I don’t think I care to try it.

Having no other options I rode back in the bucket. From now on I am not giving into peer  pressure. That was my last ride in the bucket. I suppose that makes us even for the whole calf roping thing earlier.