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. 

Babies, Bucket Calves and Bred Heifers

Several weeks ago we had our heifers preg checked to make sure they all had calves in their bellies.  Our oldest son, Kenyon, had turned his show heifer out in this pasture after the fair and we had high hopes that she would be bred as well.  

But before I tell you that story, I need to tell you this story. 

I hated that heifer.  

I realize that I'm not supposed to say hate, but I need to make it clear just how much I despised her.  And most of it wasn't really her fault.  It was more that she was a constant reminder of a whirlwind time in our lives and just one more thing that we didn't really need on our plates at that moment.  

It was the beginning of the pandemic and no one really understood just what was going on or the best course of action.  On top of that, I was pregnant with our fourth child.  On top of that, we had to begin our remote learning journey with our kindergartener.  On top of that, we had begun a bit of home renovation as we were having another bedroom added on for this new child and it's impending birth.  On top of that, springtime is generally a special type of hell around here; what with burning pastures, kicking calves out on grass, cooking for a crew, and on and on and on.... I could elaborate further but I feel I've adequately made my case.  We. Were. Busy.  We were busy, but somehow we were managing to just keep our heads ever so slightly above water.  

In late April I had the baby.  24 hours later we were back at home.  24 hours after that my husband gave me a bucket calf, a tiny black baldy bull.  24 hours after that (72 hours post-baby for those of you keeping track) I was given another bucket calf.  A red baldy heifer that was wilder than a march hare.  

I remember during that time mixing two large bottles for the bucket calves, loading the baby into the stroller, balancing the bottles on the stroller and walking down to the barn.  I remember nursing the baby in the barn and sometimes she would cry if the hungry calves bawled too loudly and frightened her.  So sometimes the calves got fed while the hungry baby bawled because honestly, she was much quieter than the other two.  While I fed bottles to the tiny human and tiny calves the rest of the children would do their best to help me with the other chores.  

I was always thankful for such a pretty view as I sat in the barn nursing the new baby.

Hats off to the parents that survived remote learning and
many thanks to the creative teachers that made this all possible! 

We'd walk back home and I'd do my best to whip up food for a crew of men.  I'm not the best cook on a good day, and these were far from good days.  My most sincere thanks to the hungry men that choked down my food and said thanks.  (I'm trying, guys, I promise!)  I'd load up the food in the back of my car, drive to the designated pasture and we'd have a pasture picnic.  I'd set out all the lawn chairs, lay ou the buffet in the back of the car and then nurse my tiny human baby while the men ate.  Wash, rinse, repeat.  Day after day for most of our spring this is how things went.  And in the back of my mind was always the fact that we had to feed those damn bucket calves twice a day.  

I'm fine,
we're fine,
everything's fine.

But like most things in life, our situation was temporary and things started to look up after a few months.  Although one calf sadly did not make it, the red baldy finally started to take a bottle from Kenyon and allowed me a bit more freedom.  The change of the seasons meant I didn't have to cook nearly as many meals to take to the pasture and the baby didn't require quite so much of my attention as she got older.  I thanked God countless times for such a happy baby.  I don't think we could have survived otherwise.  

The heifer seemed to explode growth-wise overnight and started to look like a decent show heifer prospect.  We knew she wouldn't win any major awards but at least we wouldn't be laughed out of the ring.  After some deliberation, we decided she could be Kenyon's show heifer when he joined 4-H the next year.  He took his responsibility incredibly seriously.  Although she never calmed much for my husband or myself, Kenyon could have lead her to the ends of the earth.  They were quite good buddies and their bond was evident, as it should be with 4-Hers and their animals.  He had tears in his eyes after the fair when the trailer doors opened and he took off her halter one last time and kicked her out to pasture.  

So this fall it came time to preg check the heifers.  We allowed Kenyon to leave school early that day so he could witness the process with his heifer.  In the days leading up to this, he was so excited as he hadn't seen much of her in a few months.  My husband and I were a bit nervous as to how the ordeal would go.  What if she wasn't bred and we had to send her to the sale barn?  What if she was a total nutcase and we couldn't keep her around?   

I was elated when I got the text from my husband that the heifer was bred.  I loved it even more when he sent me this picture and said that Leeva the heifer had remembered Kenyon.  After being gathered from the large pasture and preg checked, Leeva was kicked out in a large pen with 50 other heifers.  Kenyon walked right into the middle of the herd and stood his ground as the heifers nervously frittered around him.  Little by little, he was able to make his way closer to his heifer.  Although wild by default, he said she seemed to calm when she finally realized who was in the pen with her.  He then was able to spend several nice minutes talking to her and scratching her all over.  

Even though I despised this heifer and the tumultuous time she represented in our lives, this picture still brought tears to my eyes.  (Contrary to popular belief, I'm not totally heartless.)  

I've heard countless time over the course of my life that 'a picture is worth a thousand words'.  To me, no words can do this picture justice.  To me, this photo is absolutely priceless.  

Photo Dump

That doesn't sound very nice, now does it?  Photo DUMP?  That's the sort of thing that would make my grandmas cringe.  

My apologies.  Please clutch your pearls and prepare yourselves for a photos OVERLOAD instead of an unseemly DUMP.  

This kiddo has learned how fun a slide can be (thanks HF) and now makes a beeline for the swingset each time the door opens more than an inch.  I love to see her face each time she says 'READY, SET, GOOOOOOOOOO'. 

Good babysitters are hard to find and this will one day be it's own blog post - but today I'll give you the abridged version and just tell you to find a 4-Her.  It's as simple as that.  4-H kids make amazing babysitters 99% of the time.  We've been fortunate to have some of the best girls love our babies.  

Did I mention that Reese loves the slide?  Just to be clear - REESE LOVES THE SLIDE.

Can I get some feedback from other rural mamas please?  Is this a real thing, the tortuous game of timing before church?  Yes, I got the babies ready and now it is time to do my own hair and makeup (hardy har har) but do I let them go outside and enjoy the most perfect day ever, or do I turn on a blasted cartoon so they sit still in front of the television?  In my experience, it is a no win situation.  My thanks to everyone at church that puts up with our dirty little hot mess of a family. 

A teacher gave us a mere stick this spring that we all assumed was dead.  We planted it and it has thrived and given us the most beautiful rose of sharon blooms I've ever seen.  It's been one of the great highlights of our flower beds this year. 

My little tag along dominates the majority of my photos these days it seems.  She's the slowest moving of the pack and thus I can capture more photos of her.  

Kenyon had one evening football game and it was MAJOR.  Lights on the field and everything.  It is fun to see him grow and experience these fun, new things. 

Like I said, this chick dominates my photo feed these days...

The boys and I have some quality bonding time each morning while we wait for the bus.  We live in the most beautiful place on earth and therefore get to witness some of the most beautiful sunrises each day.  It's a rough life, but someone's got to do it....

The kids are so good at cramming into a feed pickup and tagging along for whatever adventures we're sent on by their dad.  Thank goodness Reese's behind fits into the pickup console perfectly. 

Dear school: please excuse my children for being late to school.  They were shipping cattle with their great grandpa.  

Great Grandpa: Hey! Crawl into the cage on this lift and I'll see how high and far I can lift you! 

It's been a whirlwind of a September, but looking back it has been pretty good for us.  

Sugar and Spice and...

 

Now that the boys have gone back to school it's just the girls and I at the house.  People often fawn over the idea of two girls in the house.  Oh, you can teach them to cook and clean and you'll just have so much fun! 

Yes, they will know how to cook and clean, but so will our boys.  I'm not a huge feminist; rather, I'm a huge advocate for knowing a bit of everything to be self sustaining.  I don't do the damsel in distress bullshit and I don't have much tolerance for boys claiming ignorance in the house either (just ask my husband).  

So.... long story short.... even though there are only two girls left in our house right now, life hasn't changed much.  Most of our conversations still revolve around dinosaurs and cattle, we still enjoy wrestling, running, dirt and all things outdoors.  

I'm thankful that all the older kids are such good sports and allow Reese to continually body slam them.

It's been oh-so-hot this week while we've been taking lunch to the silo.

The girls ran up and down the hill time and again yesterday and had the best time.

This evening Kathryn ran down this same hill at a slightly higher rate of speed, tripped and busted her face open.  Her lips are now as swollen as Lisa Rinna's.  (If you don't know you must google.)

It's been so odd this year to have such a small group for our picnics. 
Not entirely sure I'm comfortable with it yet.

She loves to watch the bulldozer, just like the rest of her siblings.

No one wants an unsightly tan line, am I right?!

Watering Flowers

Spoiler alert: There probably won't be a single picture of flowers in this post.  

I read a devotional some time back and it talked about how folks spend too much time watering the (figurative) weeds in their life.  It really stuck with me and this year has been a great opportunity to weed out things that aren't so healthy and water the things that matter.  

Now, please don't take this to mean I'm suddenly an advocate for more 'me time' in the world.  I'm not.  Living a God filled life doesn't mean making yourself the biggest priority, but I think living a more God filled life does call for tuning out more of the noise and watering the things that bring you closer to Him.  

In keeping with this theme, we've scaled back on many obligations (also due to covid) but in the meantime we've focused on some pretty cool things.  Our neighbor drove by last night and absolutely hit the nail on the head.  "Mom. Dad. All the kids.  Whole family's together, must be working on a 4-H project!"  He was right.  Kenyon has a heifer to show and he's pretty serious about it.  Actually, he's pretty serious about most things in life.  I really appreciate that about him.  He thinks like, and talks like, a 70 year old man most of the time.  He gives directions to the substitute bus drivers using directions like 'east' and 'west' and uses them correctly.  He likes to talk about cattle and crops and what the forecast for the week is.  He told me the other night that he couldn't wait to grow up and be a hard worker every day just like his dad.  He's a cool kid that has a lot of priorities right we feel.  We pray that he doesn't lose sight of them.  

He's assigned a book to read every evening and the two middles enjoy listening to him.

John still absolutely loves Reese and considers her to be his baby.  Her happiness is his greatest joy in life.  He takes after me in that he considers Halloween to be rather ridiculous and he was dead set against dressing up.  I finally convinced him to wear his nice church clothes and pretend he was a presidential candidate.  He went to three grandparents' homes and said "Vote for me" and called it good.  

Vote for me!

Kathryn is at such a fun age right now.  Her sentences are getting longer each day and she loves to attempt big words.  I like it that she's learning reasoning skills and starting to put together bigger pictures in life each day.  She thoroughly enjoys being a big boy just like her brothers and running alongside them as they ride their bikes up and down the road.  Also, she enjoys picking out her clothes to wear each day.  If you see her in mismatched whatnot it is probably because I made her wear something.  If she looks awesome, it's all due to her.  For being a 'big boy', the kid has some fabulous taste. 

And then there is Reese.  Our dear sweet cheeks Reese.  She is such a light in our lives.  I do not know how we ever lived without her.  Her little dimples are insanely adorable and she loves to laugh unless she's hungry or has a dirty diaper.  I try to keep up on both and thus we are endlessly entertained with deep belly laughs and high pitched squeals and songs.  They are endearing.  Even the ones at 5am.  Because we needed to get up anyway.  She's like our personal alarm clock with no off switch.  

I made a conscious decision this week to ignore the mountain of laundry on the couch that needs folded and instead work in my wood shop.  This particular bench will be a surprise for some friends (so don't tell) and I can't wait to give it to them.  It was just one of those weeks when 'watering flowers' was necessary for my soul.  Again, not literal flowers.  I had to give up on my garden this year.  It was beautiful until we had a kid spend several days in the hospital and then it rained and BOOM.  Weeds everywhere.  Sigh.  Next year we will do better for sure, if only because the bar is incredibly low at the moment.  

A friend posted this picture of me and I'm eternally grateful for it.  1, it proves that I exist and 2, it showcases me in my natural habitat.  Outside and with a baby in my arms.  I don't enjoy having my picture taken, but I just love that I have this one of Reese and I together.  

I was so excited to have one picture of me, but then there's this guy.  I have thousands upon thousands of pictures of him.  The kids will have photographic evidence galore of Wesley to look back on someday.  Sunday afternoons and evenings we try to spend together, just the six of us, and we had a ball last night getting this heifer haltered and smothered with affection.  We've no grand dreams of 'winning the state fair' as John suggested, but rather, we'd just like Kenyon to have a good taste in his mouth after this project and hopefully the other kiddos will be inspired by him too.  

So there it is, in a nutshell.  These are the flowers we've been watering lately.