Yesterday was pretty typical.
After I got my husband his cornflakes at 4 AM, I took another nap on the sofa until 5:30 AM. Then I got up, got the baby up, gave her a bottle, bundled her up and went out to do chores. I fed the calves...etc. Then I came in, got ready and went grocery shopping.
Grocery shopping...I hate it. I would rather go to the dentist. Since I still have no cavities at age 39, I really WOULD rather go to the dentist than go grocery shopping. My husband doesn't quite understand why I hate grocery shopping, but he has never gone in his whole life so how could he?
After I came home, put everything away, ate lunch and was resting, in came husband with a request; go see if you can get that cow into the corral so we can get her and her calf.
So somewhere along the line I find myself up in the dry cow pasture ACROSS the fence on the neighbor's property hanging on to the leg of a bull calf that is trying to kick the liver out of me, with my husband on the walkie talkie asking me if I am making any progress. Then of course, I shimmy around and get the rope on the calf and it has to do a poop (calf poop is nasty...believe me). In the process of trying to wrangle it back through the barbed wire fence I end up with calf poop on my good jeans because I forgot to change when I came back from town, and then in going over the fence myself I get hung on the barbed wire, with a calf tugging at me.
Finally I get over unstuck from the wire and start the fun process of trying to convince the critter to go toward the corral. Husband shows up with the truck and trailer and says, hey you did make good progress.
Thanks for visiting.