4 November 2026

Halloween ’26

Another Halloween is come and gone.
Another season for the books. It is a month long celebration, the actual night is usually bittersweet. I am left with the joy of an evening well spent and the sorrow of fall being almost over, of pumpkins and fog, of fallen leaves crunching underfoot and beautiful decorations being rapidly replaced with red and green and Christmas things.
Halloween is wonderful not for the gore and ghosts that people sometimes want to celebrate but for the beauty of fall and the joy of dressing up.
We spent the evening in our small town, children turned loose to run with us parents trailing slowly behind. Not because they need watched but to share in the enjoyment of the night. They ran and shrieked dashing house to house. They disappeared inside of houses without a worry or care. They left us far behind as we old folk needed to sit and rest a moment watching as Halloween passed us by.
Children came and went as we tried to keep a basic count on the children we were supposed to have along trying to figure out who various extra masked creatures might be. Night fell and fog rolled in drifting over lights and decorations. Having covered most of the town and lost the majority of extra monsters we staggered exhausted back to the car, ready to be home to rest.
The children chattered excitedly recalling friends they had met and houses they had visited. No demons just joy. Plans for the next year. And sadness as we say good bye to the beautiful pumpkins, fall leaves, corn, all the best things in life until next year.
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30 October 2026

Hemingford Trunk or Treat

We stumbled into it by accident.
We were there on purpose but we hadn’t expected quite so much. There for a haunted house put on by the school as a fund raiser we found the whole street blocked off and children wandering about in costume.
At first we were confused. Were we in the right place? Had they forgotten to mention that this was an even for every small children?
Hesitantly we got out of the car and followed the trail of families.
As we passed one business then two, we realized it was an organized trick or treat. Every business in town was decorated and handing out candy. The first one we passed insisted the kids each take a piece of candy as my children politely tried to decline because they weren’t in costume.
Each place we passed insisted just the same. Teenagers handing candy out of the back of old pickups laughed and joked making conversation. Small children waddled along next to parent. Laughing and surprised we joined in.
Up and down main street we walked admiring and accepting candy forced upon us in that typical midwest hospitality. The weather was cool, the trees dripping golden leaves, the small town was picturesque. It could not get any better.
We did finally make it to the haunted house. It was delightful, quaint in the best way possible as high school kids got to play dress up and enjoy themselves without the requirement to be cool that is the normal in daily life.
Leaving town we wandered down side streets, looked at the decorations in yards, admired the beauty of a small town. This is what Halloween is about.

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7 October 2026

Cat Math

Cat math is like chicken math.
We lost one cat so my daughter had permission to get one more.
We ended up with three. They were settled in the barn where they could keep the mouse population nicely under controll. Until they moved to the house and joined the others in patrolling the back door least we should try to come and go from the house in peace.
Then the stray kitten wandered in. She began her life here by trying to walk under the hooves of all four horses. At once. Having survived that my daughter took over and moved her to the barn where she was fed, watered, and thoroughly loved.
Until we tried to work on equipment with her underfoot. She nearly died, several times. We all did really. So she was brought to the house to join the others. At least she’ll only trip us as we walk here. Better than being smashed as heavy equipment is worked on.
And then I tried to work horses.
All of the cats dove underfoot. Under the horse’s feet that is. The yellow one sat behind Sunshine, their coats matching perfectly, and batted at his tail. It might have been the yellow one again who dove under my youngest horse as I held her. Causing her to try to dive over the top of me. The newest black kitty who my daughter cherishes, has no fear of horse hooves. She would stand between them while I held my breath and tried to shoo her away. Which resulted in twining about my feet purring.
In the end I moved my horse trailer/tack room clear across the yard. The big yard. It is far away from cats and the haven’t found it or me yet as I try to work horses. The long walk is well worth it to not smash any darling kittens beneath the horse’s feet.
Dangs cats, I mutter under my breath as I swing yet another purring kitten into my arms to scratch. We need to cut back on all these dang cats.

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28 September 2026

Butter

My kitchen is a mess. The sink is over flowing with dirty dishes. Strange pink stuff is splattered everywhere
And I couldn’t be happier.
The house is full to over flowing with children. Near to bursting at the seams. Four children total, but it feels like more. They are laughing and playing and generally being kids.
The boys have been out climbing the hay bales.
The girls decided to ‘cook’. They settled on poke cake. Jello poured over a cooked cake. These directions called for a whipped cream frosting. They poured my cream, carefully kept on hand for coffee, into a bowl and began to mix. I left them to it, both wanting them to have the time to themselves and needing a small break from the joyful noise.
Outside working on Halloween directions, I got a phone call. They had messed something up, could I please come back? Don’t worry, nothing was broken.
Glad nothing was broken, I was still concerned, what could they have messed up making a cake? I hurried inside.
Exuberantly mixing the whipped cream they added in some of the jello, just like the recipe called for. They talked as they mixed, hanging out and having fun. They only looked away from the bowl they were tending for a minute.
When they looked back it had separated. Curdled? It was a lumpy pink mess. They were sickened by it. I stuck a finger in and tasted. Worked a clump between my fingers and thought. It was impressive really.
They had made butter. Ooops.
Not a total loss. I scooped it out, squeezed it relatively dry and put the pink butter ball in the fridge. We’ll have it on muffins in the morning.
This sort of day is exhausting to me, but at the same time it doesn’t get any better. Children laughing and happy, experimenting and getting dirty. One of my favorite podcast was saying today as I listened between talking to children that they make life harder, but better. The two aren’t mutually exclusive, we need both the hard and the better.
After cooking and climbing the two groups joined together again and carved some pumpkins. More messes were made, outside this time. Without those loud, messy days life wouldn’t be near as fun.
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18 August 2026

Toads

We are inundated with toads.
That’s not a bad thing. It isn’t a curse of toads or a plague of toads. It’s just toads.
There was one rain this summer. As in it rained for real once this whole year. There have been a few sprinkles, and even a couple of measurable amounts of moisture since then. But only one real rain. It was beautiful. There were puddles everywhere. The sounds of toads croaking filled the nights following with their deafening music.
They came out of their drought induced hibernation for three or four nights.
Apparently they were very busy for those few nights.
Then they were gone again.
Every puddle left by the rain was quickly filled with tadpoles. The water hole in the horse’s pen started squirming and frothing as it dried. That was enough to make me go look. There in the puddle were more tadpoles than water. Some had small leg bumps starting to appear. None of them would be ready to hop away before the puddle dried.
So I sent the children out. They got filthy. They played. The laughter could be heard from the buildings. They scooped as many tadpoles as they could get and redistributed them to water tanks.
Now, every time we travel along our driveway we have to slow and watch carefully for toads hoping happily across. Not all from the tadpoles the children scooped up. They must have hatched everywhere. The come out when the pivots spray across the road. Whether driven out of hiding by the large water droplets or if they just enjoy hunting the bare roads, they come out and slow traffic.
The children and I both love to jump out of the car and follow them along. Maybe scooping them up for a moment to admire their big fat bellies. They’re all the same size, which makes sense if they’re from the same hatching.
We will enjoy our company while we can. Soon they will burrow back down again, cocooning themselves in a layer of sloughed off skin to preserve moisture. There they will wait for another big rain. Another chance to come out and procreate. Another time to serenade us with their beautiful music.
We’ll just have to drive very slow until then.
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10 August 2026

The Best Laid Plans

Three of us were loaded in my pickup, headed out to check cows. The dog panted in the back, determined to come along no matter the heat. Windows were rolled up and the air-conditioner blasted, making it possible for us to squeeze in the single cab together. The radio sang happily along.
My daughter commented about the speaker. It was doing a thing, maybe like the one in a different pickup likes to do. I pondered that absently. It never seemed like my speakers had any problems. As I listened though I began to wonder. Was that sound part of the song?
Turning the radio down the noise was still there. That wasn’t good.
I stopped and stepped out to check tires on my side. Parked in the middle of the two track dirt road it was easy to see that the tires were fine. My son hopped out the passenger side and stopped immediately, there was definitely a problem.
Walking around to look I saw my rear tire shredded. The rim sat on the remains, nearly flat against the ground. My poor baby. I’ve had my pickup far longer than the children or husband. She is dear to me. And here she sat lame, injured, out of commission.
We were barely two miles from home. It was almost 100 degrees. The dog panted happily in the bed.
I called my husband.
That’s what you do when things go bad right? It’s what I do. He fixes things. Especially things like tires. That is not my area.
He came on a four-wheeler and looked it over. The rim wasn’t on the ground, it was protected by the remains of the tire. We could probably drive slowly home. So we began backing down the road. The ripple of shredded rubber the new sound track of our trip. He drove along side, watching to make sure the rim was alright.
The spare tire sits next to the pickups usual parking place. It fell off of the bottom where it had a special carrying spot. Luckily it fell of next to a cow tank. I pulled up to check water and there sat a random tire. Where could that have come from? Oh, it fell off my pickup.
So it went in the back. But I had to haul four-wheelers, or goats, or calves, or fence posts. So many reasons it was cast aside, temporarily, never to be put back where it goes.
Finally to the yard I let the children out. They get restless at slow speeds. Then we limped slowly on to the quanset where there was tire changing equipment. My husband stopped and got the spare. He made quick work of the job. In the hundred degree heat. My pickup was sound again. We could make sure the cows had water.
Thank Goodness for spare tires and good husbands.
Category: 8, Family, Goblin Child, It's a God thing | LEAVE A COMMENT
1 July 2026

Hide And Seek

I sent the children off this morning on their horses. They rode to somewhere. Although I know the general direction, the exact destination is fun to conceal. It’s their secret that they share. Knowledge they can hold against their parent, against authority.
When they get back the morning has already turned hot. A rare perfectly still day to make us almost miss the constant howl of the wind. Almost, but not quite. The mares have worked up a slight sweat. Just a square to show where the saddles sit. It can’t be too hot then. Not as hot as we let ourselves believe as we swelter under the hot sun.
Or it could be the very leisurely pace the never default from.
Saddles off I let the old girls loose to graze. They deserve a little extra treat. They deserve it for taking care of the kids, for going out on their morning ride. They deserve it for just being them.
Jerry, the color of a newly minted penny, bright copper orange, has a temperament that matches her color, bright, cheerful, interested in everything that goes on around her. She may be aging but she vibrates with curiosity. Time hasn’t taken away her interest in all that is going on around her. Delicate, tippy ears perked forward to investigate any potential treat.
Lady is more reserved. She is zippy and alert. No old plodder here. But she carries a suspicion of people, never sure that we are something she wants to associate with. She can be hard to catch and lacks Jerry’s interest and determination that whatever we have it is going to be wonderful for her.
Both of them are light and responsive, energetic without being hot. They deserve a break from the two obnoxious young horses they are forced to share a pen with. Time alone to enjoy the green grass.
They do a good job of staying out of trouble, for the most part. The occasional foray into the alfalfa just outside the yards boundaries keeps me from getting too relaxed while they enjoy their graze. There are no fences to force them to comply. Instead we rely on their good nature, and the other two horses being confined. Surely they wouldn’t want to leave without the whole herd.
I went to check on them this morning and they had wandered. Wandered away from the place I had left them, the place they were last seen. Not a big deal, there is plenty of room for them to roam without getting into trouble. I checked the close places on foot. No horses there. So I grabbed a 4-wheeler and made a lap around the yard. No horses there.
Now I was starting to get concerned. If they damage the corn I’ll be in trouble. If they wander to the middle of the alfalfa they’ll be in trouble along with me. I watched the whole time for the horses still in the corals. They’re the best guide to finding wandering horses. They will stand at the fence like pointer hounds directing me to my prey.
They weren’t out in the big corral, so the mares probably hadn’t wandered that way. Finally I spotted them up by the barns. That was where I had looked for the mares already. Odd.
Trusting them to guide me I drove up to where the big grey horse stood, as the tallest he’s easy to spot. Getting closer I could finally see the shorter horses standing around him. Three. There were three shorter horses.
The mares had been quietly standing at the gate back into their pen the whole time. I had searched everywhere, in the opposite direction. Never once had I turned to look behind me. Behind me where the mares stood waiting wondering why I was running around instead of letting them back in their pen, where they wanted to be.
Category: 8, Goblin Child, Horses | LEAVE A COMMENT
5 February 2026

Moving Cows

It was going to be great! I knew it would be. The kids would love it.

They had been riding out alone to fill the cows tank. They were fine going out alone. So why not add one more challenge, or fun game depending on how you look at it, for them to accomplish?

The cows needed moved to new corn stalks. Yes, it would be easiest to move them with feed. Just call them into the corrals in the morning and lead them over with the tractor. They like food and fully understand following the tractor. But what fun would that be?

Instead we could carefully set it up so the cows would be fed in the morning, wait long enough for them to finish all the hay, then send the kids out to move them! It’s not like they could lose the herd. It’s all safely confined. Worse that could happen is the cows go to the wrong corner of the field.

So off we sent them. My son was in a mood from the beginning. That never bodes well.

Their father and I were working along the edges of the field, repairing wind damage to the parked equipment. We could see them the whole time, make sure nothing was going dreadfully wrong. The cows started off in the right direction. My son was trotting along on the far side of the herd on his little mare. They looked so good, it made me happy. My daughter pushed them down off the hill all by herself. Such good little riders.

Then the cows passed the gate and kept going south. Still no big deal. They were on the proper half of the field. It would just take a bit more riding.

My daughter called. Would I be coming out to help them now? She was not cheerful.

Wonderful mother that I am I said no. Did she feel that they were in danger? No? Alright then. Keep moving the cows.

They got to the far side of the field and stopped. I could see one child off of a horse. They both stood there and just stood. The cows grazed happily.

I called back. What’s up?

Lady, my sons little bay arab, wasn’t cooperating. He had rage quit. They were both very grouchy. Not interested in moving cows.

My plan had failed. Apparently they couldn’t handle it and would not get that huge rush of confidence and satisfaction when they got the cows moved all by themselves.

Oh well. Training children is no different than training horses. I know when we are facing frustration and there is need to step in and offer more support. Out on the 4wheeler anyway we headed that direction. My husband hopped off near the gate to turn them the right way when they got there. I rushed out to the kids. It was easy to see the problem when I got there.

Heifers.

Yearlings are an awful thing. Curious and as stupid as any bunch of teenagers. Every time I would push them forward with the 4wheeler they would turn right around and follow me back. On the 4wheeler I could keep running laps with them. The kids, on horses, unwilling to go much above a walk, it can get to be an endless task.

I finally got the heifers to move. The kids joined back in and brought up the tail while I ran the edge of the herd. The cows went in. The children were done and left as their father and I followed the bunch up the lane in and into their new field. It was done. Maybe not well done. Not the confidence booster I had hopped for. At this point I’m just hoping to be able to get them back on the horses again. Maybe we can try this weekend.

Category: 8, Cows, Goblin Child, Horses | 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