Farm

So this is a post that I started a while ago, that I thought I would finish.

In October we had a Fall Party out at the farm. This farm has been in our family for 42 years. My grandparents lived on this farm for about 38 years together and then Granny lived there for another 3 1/2 years. Then when Granny moved to town, my parents bought the farm.

Since they have owned the farm, they have really just cleared a lot of brush and some 'junk' trees as my dad calls them. They rent the farm land and the farm house. However, the farm provides us with so much fun. Some people have been camping at the farm. Some people have been fishing. Some people have been hunting. Ryan and I just like to go out and walk around to enjoy each other and God's beautiful creation.

Thinking of how much I enjoy the farm, I am reminded that all of my farm experiences have not been so great. I am going to share two farm stories with you. When I tell you these stories we are going to be forever closer and you may think that I am not the farm gal that I think that I am. You also may think that I am not very smart.

When I was in elementary school I had a good friend that lived on a farm. I loved going to their house where we would ride 4-wheelers, play in the barn and care for pigs and sheep. Late spring, when I was in the 4th grade I went to her house on a Saturday. Jenny and her brother Justin had to walk their 4-H sheep before we could do anything else. I was fascinated by anything that was happening on their farm and the walking of sheep wasn't any different. I had seen people walk dogs, but not sheep.

I followed them to the barn to harness the sheep. They were walking three sheep each, so I said I could take one or two. They gave me one rope that was attached to a sheep and we headed out of the barn and down the driveway. The first few minutes were spent trying to get all six sheep to move. I don't think that God created sheep to be harnessed and walked, or to be shown a county fairs. They just don't like it in my opinion and here is why:

My little lamb that I was trying to walk, simply did not want to walk. Jenny and Justin seemed to be doing just fine. If one of their sheep would stop they would touch the tail quickly and the sheep would start walking again. I kept pulling on the rope and the sheep was just fighting the walk. By this point, there was no walking going on, I was pulling the sheep.

So I asked what they were doing with the sheep's tail to get them to move. Justin said, "Oh, well it is kind of gross, you probably will want to just keep pulling the rope." I said, "No, just tell me what to do so that the sheep will walk." He said, "Well, you just lift the tail up and then stick about a inch of your finger into their butt hole really fast and that gets them to move." Being the city girl that I was, this was soooooo gross and I couldn't believe anyone would do this!

After asking a few questions about this process and seeing the very believable demonstration, I turned back to my little sheep determined to get him to walk, and determined to prove myself as a farm girl.

Lets just say, the lamb did move, and he moved very fast! Jenny and Justin laughed until they cried. I went and washed my finger.

In case you ever need to walk a sheep you just pull up on their tail. No prodding is necessary.

Second story:
My grandparents did not have many animals on the farm, but they would have a few here and there. My grandfather had talked about getting a few cows but hadn't really contacted anyone about buying some. My great uncle, who raised cows, called one day and said that he had a calf that he needed to find a home for. The mother didn't want the calf and the calf was going to need to be bottle fed for a while. Well, having three grand kids that would love this process, he said he would take the calf. I was probably 12 years old.

We quickly named her, "Daisy." However, she was not as cheerful as her name suggests. She was nice at first, but she turned rather feisty. One weekend, my grandparents were going away and my mom and I had to take care of Daisy. As I recall the first day or so went fine. We were keeping Daisy in the barn, because she had been known to get out of the field from time to time.

This particular day we went out to feed and water her after my mom got off work. (She was still in high heels and dressed up, that is a important part of this story) When we pulled in the driveway, there was Daisy standing in the middle of the yard looking like, "Oh, no, I've been caught!"

We stopped in the middle and that is when the fun began. Basically, we spent about a hour 'chasing' her. It must have looked like a circus act. A business woman and a little girl chasing a cow. Daisy would run really fast one direction and wait for us to catch up and then she should sprint to another area of the yard. I am guessing that this went on for about an hour. Finally Daisy stopped and walked into the barn. She was thirsty. We shut the barn door. After all of that, she stopped when she was ready to 'stop playing.' After that we all decided that Daisy was a little too smart to stay at our farm. She was big enough to go back with the rest of the cows!