A series of unfortunate events...
This actually happened in early Sept, about a month ago.
It was a blazing hot Friday and I had just spent the morning in town doing the dreaded grocery shopping trip. At about 1 PM or so when baby was asleep hubby came in and asked if I would consent to go up the road with some grain and catch the cow that had just had a calf. He'd caught the calf earlier, but the cow wouldn't follow at the time, so he'd left her for later.
Oh, sure, I said. It's not that big of a deal to whip up the road on the 4-wheeler, chuck out some grain and shut up the cows when they come in. Providing of course that they want to move from their shady spot on a warm afternoon.
So I buzz up there. They didn't seem disposed to move themselves from the shade on the other side of the pasture so I buzzed over to them. At this point the 4-wheeler died; right in the middle of shifting gears. I did everything I knew to get it started. But no lights worked. I figured it was the battery. I thought, well, I can at least get the cows caught, so I toted the bucket of grain across the field, in black rubber boots that were hot as stovepipes, and only about 4 out of 7 of the cows followed, and NOT the one I wanted so I didn't bother putting the grain in the feed bunks, but trudged back across the field. I checked the 4-wheeler again. Then I began the three quarter mile hike back to the dairy; up the road in black rubber boots hot as stovepipes.
This takes much, much less time and frustration to write about or to read than it did to experience. After about 50 minutes or more altogether my hot, frustrated, sweaty and grumpy self was just rounding the corner and was in sight of the dairy when I saw my husband pulling out of the drive to come looking for me. He'd got the baby up from her nap after he'd realized I'd been gone too long.
To shorten this up a bit, the 4-wheeler had blown a fuse. I will forever remember my husband's hair blowing in the breeze as I watched him in the rear-view mirror while I was towing him home with the pickup. Ha.
Then next morning I went up there with feed and caught the cow I was SURE was the one we were after, but it turned out to be the wrong cow. So we had to go back up there and try for her AGAIN.
And yes, after 3 tries we did get the right cow.
Sigh.
It was a blazing hot Friday and I had just spent the morning in town doing the dreaded grocery shopping trip. At about 1 PM or so when baby was asleep hubby came in and asked if I would consent to go up the road with some grain and catch the cow that had just had a calf. He'd caught the calf earlier, but the cow wouldn't follow at the time, so he'd left her for later.
Oh, sure, I said. It's not that big of a deal to whip up the road on the 4-wheeler, chuck out some grain and shut up the cows when they come in. Providing of course that they want to move from their shady spot on a warm afternoon.
So I buzz up there. They didn't seem disposed to move themselves from the shade on the other side of the pasture so I buzzed over to them. At this point the 4-wheeler died; right in the middle of shifting gears. I did everything I knew to get it started. But no lights worked. I figured it was the battery. I thought, well, I can at least get the cows caught, so I toted the bucket of grain across the field, in black rubber boots that were hot as stovepipes, and only about 4 out of 7 of the cows followed, and NOT the one I wanted so I didn't bother putting the grain in the feed bunks, but trudged back across the field. I checked the 4-wheeler again. Then I began the three quarter mile hike back to the dairy; up the road in black rubber boots hot as stovepipes.
This takes much, much less time and frustration to write about or to read than it did to experience. After about 50 minutes or more altogether my hot, frustrated, sweaty and grumpy self was just rounding the corner and was in sight of the dairy when I saw my husband pulling out of the drive to come looking for me. He'd got the baby up from her nap after he'd realized I'd been gone too long.
To shorten this up a bit, the 4-wheeler had blown a fuse. I will forever remember my husband's hair blowing in the breeze as I watched him in the rear-view mirror while I was towing him home with the pickup. Ha.
Then next morning I went up there with feed and caught the cow I was SURE was the one we were after, but it turned out to be the wrong cow. So we had to go back up there and try for her AGAIN.
And yes, after 3 tries we did get the right cow.
Sigh.
Comments
In India everything is much more primitive at least the small dairies and people have to work very hard.
I just realized that our 4-wheeler is as old as I am!!! LOL!
c-ha ha. yes, there certainly is ALWAYS something. this particular 4-wheeler is cantankerous anyways, sometimes it won't run worth beans. But so far with a new fuse, it has done ok.
thank you donna; she is pretty happy usually, but she's teething now and can be a little crank.