Fall Recall

I often wonder how our children will recall their childhoods.  Will they think back fondly on how they ran rather feral through pastures or will they remember chores and fixing fence?  

Will weaning calves bring back smiles or mild cussing when they think of how filthy they were and how tiresome it was to roll out and set up pens to sort cattle time and again?  Will they remember their mom cussing each time a momma cow came after them?  

Will they remember the endless pasture picnics, the days their plates nearly blew away in the fierce winds?  Will they wish they had eaten more meals around the table I built them in the house?  

It seems many days our table is almost
exclusively used for schoolwork.

Will the kiddos recall pausing for paperwork and chasing down scale tickets or are those memories pushed aside and viewed simply as extra time when they played rock-paper-scissor and argued on who would back up the next truck?  

Will they lament because their jungle gym was covered in manure? 

Only time will tell.  I'm anxiously awaiting to hear someday what they recall. 

Smoke and Dirt

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that if you see our family in the flesh it is likely you will probably gather a slight whiff of branding iron smoke and our children will be covered in dirt.  

I so enjoy these times.  Everyone knows their place and what they need to do.  There is minimal talk, save for the times I shout out ear tag numbers to John to make sure we are on the same page as he gathers ear notches for me to run BVD tests later.  

We get to spread apart from one another and no one has to breathe my air, which is heavenly having come out of a pretty intense decade of raising tiny babies that often clung to me like spider monkeys.  

The girls need reminded fairly often to quiet down.  They have so much fun playing in boxes, climbing over old oxygen tanks and having sword fights with sorting sticks that they forget there is actual work to be done. 

I can always count on John to make hilarious comments about no longer needing a bath when we both get sprayed with slobber from a rambunctious calf.  

Kenyon is a solid worker and he always keeps the tub and alley way filled with calves.  He loves to talk numbers when we finish and recount how many were bulls, steers, etc.  

The husband runs his side of the chute and I run mine.  We don't talk unless I ask him to pause so I can refill a vaccine gun.  It seems like the wind is normally out of the totally wrong direction and the smoke from his branding iron fills my nostrils for several seconds with each calf.  We never argue during this time.  Processing calves is the one thing that we can do really well together and I always look forward to it.  

We don't have time (or a desire) for things like Saturday college football games or weekends at sporting tournaments which I've seen many families on social media document.  I'm glad they've found their niche in life.  This is definitely ours.  

This is a terrible attempt to photograph smoke in bright backlight.
My apologies. 

Time Marches On

Summer commenced.  

We blinked.

Summer came to an end. 

Captivating material, right?  I'm renowned for my creative writing skills.  

I've heard people exclaim 'I have no idea where the time went!', and while I understand the phrase I can assure you we know exactly where the time has gone around here.  

Our time this summer was spent in the hay fields, the ball fields, the bean fields, the corn fields - any type of field you can imagine - we were there.  

And then there were the chores.  The kids were very faithful in taking care of their animals.  Each morning they walked their hogs as well as fed and watered everything.  In the evenings, provided they didn't have ball games to play, they walked their calves and then fed and watered all their hogs, calves, horses, chickens and dogs again.  We were very proud of their work ethic.  Don't get me wrong, they grumbled on many of those hot days, but they understood the importance of their duties.  

On the weekends we'd have some quality, family bonding time while we processed calves together.  For the most part, the boys are becoming pretty decent help.  Kathryn fills in where she can and is learning the ropes... and little Reese does what most supervisors do and barks nonsensical orders that benefit absolutely no one.  

I always enjoy when someone asks if we enjoy the sunrises from our home.  
Yes, yes we do.

The kids and I try to sneak in a few walks each week before the heat gets too terrible.  They subscribe to the Robert Frost school of thought and enjoy choosing the 'road less traveled'.

Find a better babysitter.  I dare you.
Loopie is the best of the best.

6am and ready to head out the door to load cattle.  
Pink, sparkly shirt?  Check.
Pink, sparkly belt?  Check

Fishing has become much more enjoyable for all as now 75% of the kids can cast out the lines themselves.  It makes a world of difference to the parent(s). 

Reese has a pretty tough life I tell ya'.

6:30am and we were watching a concrete mixer unload into the forms for a loading chute.

It was really interesting for all of us to watch that process.

This day was absolutely awful.  The kids were fighting and screaming and I nearly lost my mind.  The next thing I know, the house is silent, save for the gently voice of Kenyon reading Bible stories to his sisters. 

Yes, Mom forgot to pack the lawn chairs one day.

Yes, the all survived eating on the ground.

Silage chopping was less than stellar this year.  

Thankful to have that one checked off the list.

A low quality photo, but I do enjoy watching the kids help us work calves.

After the fair we had the chance to go into the meat locker and see the kids' calves and hogs hanging.  It was such a great learning experience.

We are very fortunate to have many great mentors in our lives. 
(Bonus points if they are super pretty high school girls.)

The girls thoroughly enjoy oiling anything with leather.  
Halters, boots, saddles, purses, diaper bags... If you bring it, they will condition it.

They often move as a whole and I love to watch this little tribe and all their antics.  They have inside jokes, inside arguments, inside super-secret plans.  They are close and it is wonderful. 

This photo will never get old.  8am and running your hogs while topless in your socks and jelly sandals.  Life is good for R.E.C.

Kathryn touched her brother's welding project and burned a finger.  While icing it down she also passed out from sheer exhaustion.  This accurately captures the essence of our summer.  
Sheer exhaustion.

Cooking class with Grandma can be rather chaotic but the end result was oh-so-worth it.
Raisin bars with Grandma Kate for the mouth-watering win!
It was a nice change from boring ol' mom's endless pans of chocolate chip cookies.
I'm a bit of a one trick pony with baking and not afraid to admit it.

Teeny, Tiny People

When the babies were little, they were constantly attached to me.  I was often holding them on my hip or chest so they were RIGHTINMYFACE and BREATHINGMYAIR most all day, every day.  Which is the wonderful part about having babies, don't get me wrong.  Even for their small size, they were huge in my eyes due to their proximity. 

Now the babies are getting older and.... smaller.  They no longer breathe my air.  The are rarely right in my face, unless they are showing me the latest bump, scrape, bruise, turtle, blackbird or the like to impress me.  These days I mostly see them from a distance, which is becoming increasingly alright with me.  A friend told me once that raising kiddos never gets easier, it just gets different.  Each day I am becoming more aware of just what he meant.  

See what I mean?  I wasn't joking.  Blackbird.  In my face.  He was so proud of himself for catching it.  Still not sure how he managed that one. 

We spent a few days last week hauling hay.  Kenyon LOVES to drive the pickup and flipper trailer through the fields so I can load him with the tractor.  Once I get him loaded he dutifully slides over and lets me drive down the road to the hay yard to unload.  Wash, rinse, repeat.  Load after load. 

Not only can he do the manly chores like haul hay, but he's great at walking home to make sandwiches for everyone as well!  He really wanted to keep loading hay while I went home to make sandwiches, but he definitely lost that argument. 

We had to wait nearly 10 minutes for the men to switch fields and bring us a tractor, which is approximately 10,000 eternities in young man years.  He sat on the tail end of the flipper trailer and nearly died of boredom.  

"Seriously, Mom.  I think they forgot about us.  There is no way it should be taking this long.  We should just go find them."

I love picking up these tiny hitchhikers I find alongside the road.  All the kids love to take turns riding in the swather and baler with their grandpa and dad.  After spending many long hours bouncing around in the cab I drive to the appropriate middle-of-nowhere location and find the tiny dot standing at the side of a field that is hopefully my child. 

I loved stumbling upon this scene a few days ago.  The kids found the best vantage point (the top of the ground load trailer) and watched their dad go back and forth with the tractor and baler.  I believe if you click on the individual photos you can enlarge them.

Nearly every Saturday morning while the rest of the world is watching cartoons, we have our kiddos out working a load of calves that arrive to our place the night before.  I run one side of the chute- giving shots, worming and putting in ear tags while my husband works the other side.  He runs the hydraulics of the chute to catch each calf, gives other shots and implants as well as brands each calf with a hot iron.  We both keep an eye on the kiddos as they push calves up the alleyway or simply see how much dirt they can possibly cover themselves in.  Not to brag or anything, but they could earn a gold medal in the filthy kid category.  Hands down.  

The boys have to practice their penmanship skills when they number all the ear tags and vials for BVD testing that I then run in the afternoons.  

This new, different chapter is difficult for me to process at times but I'm slowly adapting.  I never dreamed it would be this enjoyable to watch the children grow bigger physically but become teeny-tiny in my eyes as they become more independent.