Skip to main content

The Best Laid Plans... On the Ranch

Today I have decided to enlighten those readers that have perhaps never experienced moving cattle by semi-trailers and horse trailers, and for those that have, I think you can relate.

Note: This is my personal experience and may not hold true to all others, theirs may not involve as much swearing or underwear changes.

First the day starts off early, and there is a partially developed plan for how things are going to go.

Within a half an hour the plan has gone to sh#%.

At this point a plan B of sorts is thrown into place and within another hour that is gone as well.

So all involved begin flying by the seat of their pants and hoping for the best.

This usually results in the worst.

You yell at your spouse. Your spouse yells back.

You both begrudglingly carrying on working together because your survival depends on it.

Several hours later than planned, the cattle pairs are separated, Mommas in one semi-trailer, babies in another. The stragglers are placed in a horse trailer along with a four wheeler for fixing fence later.

You begin the convoy down the road.

You are driving the pickup with dual tires and a twenty-eight foot long horse trailer.

It's a two hour drive to the summer pasture, where the cattle are going to stay for the duration of the warm weather months.

Due to construction, you cross a single lane, cliff of death, less than one foot of clearance on either side of those dual tires, bridge, and you have arrived.

After a change of skivvies, you begin the work of unloading cattle.

Someone (Hub's) balances precariously above the cattle and gives them a spray of medicine to keep the bugs at bay, a form of OFF bug spray for cattle if you will.

This is where things begin to look up. The Mommas are happy to see their babies and the grass is green and beautiful and you can finally begin to breathe a sigh of relief.

Then comes the several hours of checking and fixing summer pasture fence for breaks in the wire.

Finally after the four wheeler runs out of gas and you have been sufficiently bitten to death by mosquitos, you haul yourself home, or in my case, back to my sisters, for a glass of wine and a hot pizza.

 

The day is done, and somehow everyone miraculously survived, marriage still intact.

Till tomorrow when you have to go back over that bridge....

Have a lovely day!

P.S. Last Fall we worked cattle in the same pasture.

 

Comments

  1. Ive been there before with my dad! There is a road to one of our summer pastures that I hate. I refused to drive it this summer. I stopped at the top of it and made my dad walk up to the pick up and drive it down.... what a chicken i was!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I seriously almost stopped in the middle and made one of the construction workers drive it across but it was so tight I wouldn't have been able to get the doors open!

      Delete
  2. seriously, you are the cutest thing ever. Bartimus better remember that!!!! :)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Ugly

Earlier this year I spoke at a conference. I talked about gratitude, grace and joy. I was fully immersed in it and felt it down to my toes.

Then life got turned upside down and busy and somehow I forgot everything.

The last month or so has been a mess. I hate the rush of summer and the vortex that results and sucks up every minute and shreds my plans. I have let it consume me. I have been wallowing in self pity.

It all bubbled up and exploded last week when I threw a tantrum and in an attempt to keep from yelling I kicked the wall. My house that I love, that I built with my hands, that I poured myself into; I kicked it and put a hole in the wall and injured my foot.

It was stupid. The tantrum was stupid. I feel stupid.

But even more than that, I am angry at myself. I am angry that I allowed myself to get to the point that I would act that way.

I wasn't being grateful, I wasn't practicing grace and I certainly was no where near feeling joy.

I wanted my children and my husband t…

Changes

I was cleaning today, which gave me time to think, and thinking always leads me here.

The house is 'weekend messy', so decided to clean my floors, because The Nester says if your floors are clean the rest of the house feels clean too, even if it isn’t. 
I have found that it is pretty good advice, so when everything else feels chaotic, I clean the floors. Of course for me, cleaning the floors also means picking up the toys, shoes, clothes, etc. so that I can even begin to vacuum, which naturally leads to a cleaner home as well. 
While cleaning up I began to think about how this blog has evolved over the years, from a desire to write like The Nester about home, into what it is now. 
I started writing this blog when I was dreaming of building a new home. Then plans changed, life took turns, and we ended up in a home so different than I expected and so perfect for our family.

Somewhere along the way I realized that home wasn’t in the walls that went up or in the countertop choices…

The Farmer

I trust that, by now, you have all seen the commercial heard round the world. You know, the one that stopped all action and silenced a nation when the soft rumble of that voice drifted into living rooms on a Super Bowl Sunday.Yes that commercial. Paul Harvey's voice, unmistakable in its sincerity and beauty, spoke of a people whom work from sun up till sun down with no recognition. He spoke of a people whom care for their baby animals and pour their blood, sweat and tears into helping them grow. He spoke of a people, so foreign to many in the world today.He spoke of a people whom many have forgotten. He spoke of a people; my people. The farmer. I am a fourth generation farmer married to a fourth generation farmer. Together we are raising the fifth generation. We don't do it because its easy, it's not. The hours my husband spends working rival that of any doctor or lawyer I have ever met. We don't do it because it's profitable, some years it's all we can do to p…