Sunday, May 3, 2009

Tired or tiring day

This morning’s picking up where last nights left off I fixed baby bottle. Went out and calf gave me a good run around the stall. Third times the charm having a critter do you your will. Yeah right? It did my will alright when I went out and come back with a halter. Butting that critter into a corner, slipping that halter on it and tie it to the rail I had it cornered. Swinging one leg over the small beast and wrapping my knees about its neck, I loosened the halter a might and presented the bottle. GD critter any way?
Then it behaved like getting that bottle was all it’s own idea. When we had finished it was up and down my legs, in, out, about even between my limbs either liking I was its best buddy or parish the thought I was it’s mama. And just a little while before all this it didn’t want me in there, now al of a sudden I wanted out.
Next last night’s left over’s, I go to work on fence. I found one open circuit right out here in the barnyard, but the test was telling me that wasn’t all of it. So a nice leisurely walk about the perimeter in the refreshing spring air soaking up all manner or rays I was off. “I was off?” However had I slipped that misnomer in here? Why! I’m as solid as a rock. Would you believe sand stone?
I found some minor infractions, a grape vine, some mulberry, some maple; nothing big until I was back to the barn yard a spitting distance from where I had started. (groan) Here I suspected a leg had a short in it, so I turned if off for the moment. Brought checker into use and all the lights lite up excepting my eyeballs. Got one of them jolts up both arms yesterday which ironically brought all the real old vocabulary I’ve been trying to quit. I started to walk it off while I continued cleansing my mind. It sure as the devil might not have been nice, but I sure as Hell felt better afterward.
Fishing my walk I found no more infractions one way or the other. I was back home via west side’s yard. Next thing on my agenda move 983’s remains clear of the west pasture without loosing all the ladies falling into the next as yet un-mowen pasture. It was here I took what I call a well deserved morning Tea.
Having had my tea with a sweetening dash of honey (bees) I was ready to take on the world again. This time I had to take care of Funeral arrangements for 983. And wouldn’t everybody know it everything was short on one thing or a couple.
I must have word with Chip! I bring cans of fuel home for use in machines here. He comes by for the log splitter and takes my fuel with him. Somewhere in all this convenience logic I manage to have to haul more cans. Arrggghhhh!
My having enlisted Terry’s assistance even before I had totally prepared to lay 983’s bones to rest all the ladies (I mean all just as I’ve described the scene) in the neighborhood had quietly passed as she were in review, bowing their heads in turn, one now and then murmured something I quite didn’t understand. By and by when 983 was ready for transport Terry on the Cushman took care of traffic control at the present pastures boarder. There on the and including the burial site the services were simple and short. I had thoughts, “May she never be to hot nor to cold, never thirst nor want for green hay for may she find only tempered seasons, cool sweet water and tasty lush grasses upon her next soul’s trip.”
and it was all over.
After lunch it was shop time. Bro’ got to JD before I did stripping of the masking tape and putting engine’s little making it run extras back on. Then Bro’ wanted my digging out the front end loader’s saddles. Then it’ll be the bolts. I’ve got an approximate idea where they are if nobody’s tampered with my system of inspired cayous.
Having had my belly full of shop time I came home for my rattlers and eventual supper. Afterward, managed to drive the Ford loader/backhoe thru the ladies and picked Chips tree trimmings off the trees cut up last fall for fire wood. There, that’s one more Spring chore partially off my mind. I’ll use the Cushman for the incidental travels to walk off the fields another half to a dozen tree limbs, maybe tomorrow?
Here again, exhaustion is taking over any thought of tolerable English upon my expressive part. This is all folks.
One last tangible recognition, this charming lady was just one of the bevy a many fine looking girls in on this wayward heifer’s afternoon capture off the Shorthorn country spread last night.
Now, BGKC.

1 comment:

Donna said...

I've been in exactly the situation you describe at the beginning of this entry, so many times. Back when I was raising calves they were mostly Holstein or Brown Swiss, so some of them were plenty big enough to toss me aside when I straddled them, even at three days old.

I'm so anxious to have a calf around again.