The Lumberjack's Wife

HD just had a birthday. He is now 17, if you can believe such a thing.

He used to look like this:

I am not sure what happened?

The night before he turned 17, the boys had their basketball awards night. HD received an award for “Most Inspirational Player.” He was sort of thrown into the point guard position this year, and he really grew into it. The team was struggling mid season, and the coaches told him he needed to have a talk with the team and instructed him on the changes they needed to see from the different players. He was quite nervous about it, but he did it. And it . . . worked? I mean, they were kind of tanking and were 5th overall in their league and they came back to play in the championship game.

LD received Most Improved-and he bought this snazzy button down for the awards ceremony with his very own money. Muy guapo.

And then there is our Hadley Beth who turned 20. I mean. How is this even possible?

She and Lily came home for a weekend, and I’ll tell you what . . . adult children are SURE SOMETHING.

(Lily left, Hadley right)

Adult children are tricky. Because you can no longer be the boss of them. And I so desperately want to be the boss.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch . . .

David and I were preparing to go on a trip to Mexico.

Yes. You heard me.

Mexico.

Right before we left, Babs, our nicest cow who lets us pet her, started to have rectal prolapse. When I came in from checking the cows and had noticed it, I saw HD first and told him.

HD: Let’s get out there! We need to save her!

Because, Reader. We all love Babs.

Me: I am not sure what we are going to do exactly. We need to wait for Dad.

When David got home, we hopped in the side by side and I led him to where she was. David was prepared with supplies, including the longest latex glove known to man, and was ready and prepared to shove that rectum back in where it belonged.

But, alas. When we got to her, the rectum had retreated back inside of her.

?

So, we instructed the boys to keep an eye on her when we were gone and gave them the number of the vet in case it happened again, and off we toodled to Mexico.

Mexico was lovely. All we did was eat and lay by the pool, get something to eat, nap, read, eat, lay by the pool, get sunburned, eat, rest, read, eat, and then sometimes go and get second dinner. Because, all-inclusive.

I did not take many pictures. I was too busy reading and eating. I read 4 books!

One day, as I was literally standing in the pool and reading-living my best life, I noticed David was gone. And he was gone for awhile. Eventually I had to hop out of the pool and find the bathroom, and I noticed him hunkered down in a corner on his phone.

Me: What are you doing?

David: I am bidding on pigs at the livestock auction back home.

Me: While we are in Mexico?

David: Yeah. And I was getting terrible service by the pool.

Me: Well, you do you.

And I went back to the pool to read and eat and burn and eat.

After day 1 when I noticed I was burning a bit, I upped my sunscreen game. David refuses to lather sunscreen on himself, so by day 3, he was a bit red. One night, I was sitting by him and, Reader, I canNOT even describe the heat coming off of his body. He was like a space heater.

Me: I think you burned a bit, dude.

David: No. I am fine.

And then I had to move away from him and go read in a cooler place. Because I was starting to sweat a bit from his radiating heat.

So then we came home from Mexico and checked on the cows the very next morning and found that Babs was prolapsed again and it was a bit worse. David said he would not be able to push it back in at this point, because, and you had better sit down for this:

He is not a vet at all and we really have no idea what we are doing over here, ever.

And because he probably did not want to have a mutiny on his hands from his wife and children because they are all emotionally attached to this cow his wife named, Babs, he told me I could call a vet.

!

I know. He is getting soft in his old age.

Since it was a Saturday, our only option was to go to a university about 1.5 hours away that offers 24/7 vet services-but it is a teaching clinic, so students are working it, monitored by actual vets.

David says he is going to load Babs and since she is our easiest cow, he can do it himself and he will be ready in an hour.

Ha.

After a bit, I went out to check on him and saw things were not going swimmingly. And I am extremely helpful when it comes to loading livestock, so I jumped right in. Now David does this thing that I find absolutely maddening. He uses a rope to rope the cow and tie it up to a tree so he can put a halter on it. But if the cow pulls on it, the rope gets tight around the cows neck and can start to choke the cow. He did get the halter on and we hooked a couple of lead ropes to that-and when I say we, I, of course, mean David, and then we tried to pull her in.

Nope. She was not having it at all.

As David was trying to pull her in, he told me to grab the red paddle and start smacking her on the backside.

Me: GOT IT!

And I followed his directions and you can probably see him rolling his eyes from wherever you are, Reader, and he was like:

Taylor. You need to BEAT her with it.

And I was like, BEAT BABS? On her owie prolapsed bottom?

So David sighs the sigh of all sighs and ties up the rope and goes to smack her butt and I surely did not like that. No I did not.

We wave the white flag and call out the boys. So now each boy has a lead rope and David has the original CHOKING rope and I am in charge of the paddle beating and David at one point was so over me and my gentle tapping with the paddle and told me to quit and just go hold the door to the trailer. So I took my walk of shame and went and stood by the door where I proceeded to watch all peoples involved almost perish. And then, I became David’s very own PETA representative, yelling all the time when the rope got too tight around Babs’ neck and worried that someone was going to get kicked or crushed and then he got the winch and the rope was so tight and almost breaking and I was sure it was going to snap and the metal hook would fly and hit one of my boys in the head and it was all just so much for me. And everyone is stressed and fussy with each other and David and HD like to make sure everyone, meaning myself and LD, know how dumb we are and how we solely are responsible for the trials and tribulations we are encountering as we load Babs into the trailer. And yes, I am pretty sure I have like multiple run on sentences going on here, but I care not.

We get Babs loaded and now we have to find her calf. I am not the muscles of this operation, but I am definitely the brains, and I know exactly what calf number goes with Babs-it is Calf 125, if you must know, so off I go to find this calf. I find her in no time, because, again, I am the brains and then David and the boys come ripping over the hills in the side by side.

And now it is time to kidnap the calf.

The calf sees us and runs. We follow her. She notices she is being followed and is not a fan and gives chase. The four of us are strategically moving around to try and corner her. And we do. And she is terrified and leaps bawling into a barbed wire fence. David pulls her out and the kidnapping is officially in progress.

As soon as Calf 125 starts throwing her tantrum, every single mama cow loses her mind and starts towards us, because who do we think we are kidnapping this baby? LD is the side by side operator, David is the Chief Calf Kidnapper, and HD and I’s purpose is to keep the angry mamas at bay and make sure no one dies. So off we go and did you know that if you spread your arms wide and yell

HEY!

at a cow, they back off, even though if they kept going they could totally run you over and make you die a slow and painful death? Well, it is true and HD and I are doing a lot of yelling and running and I am happy to report we got Calf 125 loaded in the trailer with her mother and no one died, not even a little bit.

When it is all over, everyone goes back to normal and no one hates each other anymore and David is all,

“Thank you for your help.”

And I believe we all need shirts that read: “Sorry for what I said when we were working cattle.”

The boys had to go to work, so David and I alone took Babs and baby to the vet and by minute four he is already stressed about how much this is going to cost and is this worth it and I am trying to cheer him up, saying things like:

Well, maybe it will be an easy fix!

You can watch the procedure and learn how to do this yourself!

Maybe you will make a new friend!

What if they give you a FREE SUTURE KIT?!

The thought of a free suture kit calmed him right down. Do I know him, or do I know him?

We arrive and pull up. This vet school knows we are coming with a prolapsed cow and when we arrived one of the vet students came out, looked in our trailer, looked a bit taken aback and said,

“I thought this was a horse?”

And it was then that David’s mood dimmed a little.

He turned into grumpy rural farmer mode who doesn’t want to spend more than $1.35 on vet services on an animal that is maybe only worth 1000k if we take her to auction, TAYLOR. I follow another student into the lobby so I can register Babs.

A student is registering me and I tell her information such as, “This cow calved 13 days ago” only to have the student ask me two minutes later if this cow is a girl or a boy.

I come to David and the poor male vet student and this student thinks we would like to spend at least 10k to fix this beloved cow at all costs and David is trying to convey the cow is not worth much and the students are blinking at him and tell him he cannot come into the facility because his germs will compromise the environment.

David: They won’t let me in! They are fine with a ten year old cow who has been living outside in mud and poop to come in, but I cannot go in!

The actual vet comes out to talk to us and David expresses his great desire to watch the procedure and she says she will go and talk to the students and she was okay with it.

She came out a bit later to say she was sorry, but the students voted and they found him too intimidating and, no, he cannot come in.

So now David needs to know how much this is going to cost him, and the vet is handling him well and breaking down the costs and saying everything they will be doing.

Vet: We will give her a pain pill.

David: How much does THAT cost?

Vet: $10-$20

Me: SHE CAN HAVE A PAIN PILL

Vet: We will also be giving her antibiotics and giving you a prescription to take home with you.

David: I have LA200 at home!

Vet: Ok, we won’t give her antibiotics.

David: Are you sure I cannot watch?

Vet: The students do not want to do this while you are watching them.

So we went to Walmart! At Walmart I attempted to break down how David was being intimidating to the vet students. He was receptive to my thoughts but he still thinks it is dumb that he cannot watch. And then we got the call that Babs was ready and we came back. They were able to clean her up and pop that rectum right back in there. They did a little stitch to hold that bad boy in and gave us a few instructions.

Our stock trailer was backed up to the exterior side of Babs’ pen and it was time to load her up. Remember how easy that was the first time?

And the poor terrified male student looked at Babs, clapped his hands two times, and said to Babs:

“OK! Load up!”

He truly thought that she would heed his instructions and calmly walk right in. Almost as if she understood English words.

David lets out the sigh of all sighs and jumps the gate. He picks up the calf to make it throw a fit and walks it to the trailer. The sound of her calf crying brings rage upon Babs’ being and she starts to follow. And the students looked on in fear and awe.

Before we left, David thanked the vet, who kept her word of keeping the bill close to $200-it was $200.77, and said:

“I am sorry if I was rude.”

And she said:

“Don’t apologize to me. I just feel bad for your wife.”

When I relayed that line to the boys, HD spit his water out all over the counter.

Babs and Calf 125 are happily living in the small pen we made for Tillie and Ruby. Ruby and Calf 125 are becoming playmates, so that is special and fun.

The sad news is that if she prolapses again, she needs to be put down and she should not have babies anymore. So I think David wants to sell her in the fall.

Bleeding hearts of the world.

Happy Friday!

We recently acquired a bottle calf from one of our neighbors. And did you know that we call anyone who lives within 15 minutes of us our neighbor? It is a weird characteristic of us.

Anyways. Meet Ruby.

Her mama rejected her, so now, I get to be her mama. I was trying not to fall in love with her, because, you know, I fell in love with Hazel once upon a time and she only broke my heart.

But, alas. It is too late. I am smitten.

We decided to keep her in our backyard with our dogs, so naturally, she has started to just play with the dogs.

She loves her bottles. Can’t get enough of them. And when they run dry, she is displeased and headbutts me.

Violent, yes? But we shan’t blame her. Because calves use their heads to knock into their mama’s udders in real life when they want more food. So she’s just doing her thing.

My first graders are getting an absolute kick out of Ruby stories. I write them little stories with questions and they work so hard to read them-much more so than a regular reading passage I might use. So Ruby is pretty much going to help bring all my kids up past a first grade reading level. I just know it.

I have this one student. And how should I put this? She struggles. With it all. With all the things. And she would not stop talking and interrupting in the back row. One of my boys completely lost it and threw his hands up and said/shouted:

“Can you PLEASE STOP TALKING! I am trying to listen to the COW STORY!”

I would feed Ruby a bottle and then have to run for my life to escape her fury. She would try to follow me into the house, but I would close the door right in her precious face. One morning, HD was yelling from the basement-

“MOM! The calf is in the house and is sucking on my dirty clothes pile!”

And that, Reader, was when I discovered that Ruby could open our door. After a bit of stalking and spying on my part, I found that when I was closing the door on her, the door handle (which is more like a lever and not a round knob) would be closed right in her face at mouth level. So Ruby, who is obviously a genius, decides to start nursing on the door handle. And in all her eagerness, she was pushing on the door as she was nursing.

Eventually, the door would open.

Don’t mind the state of the door. We are in the throes of a remodel. And at the rate this is going, we will be in this remodel until the year 2037. But, I digress.

So, Ruby, in her quest for more milk, would nurse the door, open the door, and then she was nursing on HD’s clothes. And I love her.

After school every day, I would make a bottle and feed Ruby. She would down a 3 quart bottle in about 90 seconds. And then, because she is greedy and ravenous, she would headbutt me for about ten minutes trying to get more milk. All of this bonding time with her somehow turned into her going out on big walks with me and the dogs. And I’ll tell you what. There is nothing more precious in this world than when a calf has discovered its legs and starts to run and hop about.

Nothing.

And, so, I am smitten. I would also like to research and make a business plan where I can love and raise bottle calves and quit my day job.

I will keep you abreast of the situation.

Meanwhile, we have 14 mama cows and they keep popping out more precious calves. Unlike Ruby, these calves find humans to be terrifying, but they are still cute nonetheless. Every day after school, I take “cow inventory.” It is a very important task that I have given myself and I traipse around and make sure I have eyes on each cow and each calf to make sure no one DIED and see if there are any new precious calves for me to love and adore. One day, I found a newborn so very very far away from her mom. David and I were concerned with the distance, so we decided to just grab her and move her to her mom.

Her eyes kill me dead in this photo.

So, yes, we are surrounded with babies and cuteness.

A few days ago, one of our first time mamas calved and lost the baby. This heifer was born on our property. She is my best gal, Matilda’s, calf from a couple year ago-here is a flashback to this gal as a new baby.

I call her Tillie

So Tillie grew up and had her first baby and immediately lost it. So, I had the idea that we should see if Tillie would adopt and nurse Ruby.

It was an entire event that included building a new temporary pen and David bedazzling the boys and I with his exemplary roping skills, but we got Tillie hobbled and haltered and we attempted to force her to love Ruby.

She does not love her time with Ruby has much as I do.

And so, I go out morning and night and arrange the nursing meet up. I think bottles were easier, but I am wondering if this would be better in the long run? I have no idea how long it should take for a mama to adopt one that isn’t her own. So. We shall just keep trying for a bit.

Happy Thursday!

I am pleased to inform you that George Marion made a full recovery, and was able to join his peers once again in the big cow pen.

He is alive and well.

When we decided to move him from the hay barn to the pen, David started gathering supplies for a small rodeo. HD and I were like, nay,we will be fine. I do believe HD and I fancied that George would just peaceably walk from the barn to the pen with us at a leisurely stroll.

Unfortunately, it did turn into a small rodeo.

But it was fine. David, the boys, and I just got in a quick, robust aerobic exercise while we guided the new and improved George to his muddy home.

But, hey! Did you pay attention to a key detail in this minor story?!

He lived. He lives. He is living-even right now at this very moment. Weeks and weeks after we moved him.

We did it. We saved one.

Finally.

***

Every now and again, I hear a poor, lost soul express to me how lucky I am to live on a “farm” and how said person would love to have a bit of land and some animals all to themselves.

So. Every now and again, I like to hit you all with a dose of my blessed reality.

I looked out the window the other day and saw this scene unfolding:

Naturally, I assumed that a few not-so-good hens had taken down two of their fellow mates, plucked them clean, and were feasting on them.

You might say, “Taylor! There is no way hens would be vicious and attack one another!” And I would smile and nod and let you live in your little fantasy world of peace and harmony.

I thought for a moment, and remembered that David had just butchered a steer recently, as he is wont to do. And now, reader, without further ado, here is the textversation that took place:

So, yes. Please be envious of this life.

***

I love the dogs. It is true. I do. I love them with all the fibers of my being. The kids have decided that Charlie has put on too much weight, and reader-you better sit down for this-they make fun of her.

I know. I was aghast myself.

So I have been limited her food portions and she and I (plus the puppy brothers, of course) take several walks and play ball. I tell Charlie that together we shall “walk away the pounds.”

The dogs love our walks. I take them to the back forty and throw a ball around and they run and run and it is delightful. Norman is psycho and he is always in stealth mode. Can you see him in this picture?

I love him.

Anyways, Hadley came home this weekend and was commenting on how Charlie had not lost any weight. I thought she and I were doing a swell job of watching waistlines, but it has gone unnoticed. Later, she and Kate were texting me and having a grand time suggesting I hang up motivational quotes for Charlie to help her on her journey. Quote such as-

“Don’t WISH for a good body, WORK for it.”

“I release the need for food to protect me.”

So Charlie and I are feeling fussy with those two.

***

David and I recently hopped on a plane and went to visit Kate and Caleb in their land of being far away from us. It was a lovely visit, however, the entire time, Kate made fun of me for how old I seem now. Because one day, we took a walk and it was frigid and I was chilled to the bone and told her I fancied a steamy mug of hot water with lemon. And then I said I would like a 20 minute lie down before we went back out again. So I am now a senior in her eyes.

We joined them for church, and I had a grand time when the peoples told Kate that I did not look like her mom, but we looked like sisters.

HA.

We went to Caleb’s baseball game with Nokona the puppy, and had a lovely visit.

Kate graduates with her bachelor’s in May, and then is hoping to get into med school.

***

Just because I like hot water with lemon does not mean I am old.

***

Calves! The babies have started coming, my friends, and they are so cute. We have had three born in the last week.

Baby 1-

Baby 2-

We have three mama cows with super fun faces-Matilda is one of them.

All I want for this calving season is for ONE of those gals to have a baby with a matchy-matchy fun face.

The one lying down calved last night-

Still cute though.

***

And now, let us discuss life in the first grade. The next two stories are going to push the boundaries of family friendly content, and I do apologize in advance.

Story the first: Sally.

Sally and I are still having intense fellowships daily, trying to get her reading. The other day, I wrote the word “blink” on the board, and she raised her hand to decode it.

AND SHE DID.

Reader! That is a beginning blend with a glued vowel sound at the end. I mean. Come ON.

That very same day, it was time for her to read her decodable book to me.

And the word she was stuck on?

“It.”

Yes. That’s right. IT. And this is how our conversation went.

Again. We are leaving the familiar waters of family friendly content. Consider yourselves warned.

Sally: I don’t know that word.

Me: Yes, you do. Sound it out.

Sally: I (eye)-t . . . ITE.

Me: No, try again.

Sally: ITE

Me: I cannot say its name in this word. There is nothing making it do that. What does “i” say?

Sally: I DON’T REMEMBER.

Me: Yes, you do.

Sally looks at me almost as if I am ruining all of her fun and I am.

Sally: I (she says short i) t . . . i-t . . . t-i. Ti!

Me: You put them together backwards. Try again.

Sally: i-t . . . t-i . . . tit! It is TIT!

Me: That is not the word.

Sally: Mrs. M it is! IT IS TIT!

And so on. It truly made me feel like I have made an impact.

Story the Second: The other name for donkeys.

There is a portion of my day where I assign the kids independent work while I pull kids for interventions. You know. Like when Sally is arguing with me that i-t spells tit? Those kind of interventions-and they are clearly making a difference. But, I digress.

We use this website called EPIC! and it is great. I assigned the kids a book on a certain habitat. They can either read it themselves, or have the computer read it to them. I did a poor job previewing the book in its entirety and did not pick up on the fact that EPIC has decided to tell the kids that one of the animals is a jacka**. Which is a bad word, yet also an alternative name for a donkey.

Fun!

So, the kids are doing their thing and hands are going up telling me the book is saying a bad word, and I have to explain myself to a group of six year olds who are wondering why I am exposing them to such filth.

Life goes on.

Over the next few days, something strange starts to happen during this intervention block of time. Now, I love this time, mostly because the room is QUIET and I get to work one on one with kiddos. So I am doing my thing, and over the next couple of days, out of nowhere, a computer voice pierces through the silence and says one word:

Jacka**.

And I feel like I am losing my mind, trying to figure out who is doing it and what is happening.

This goes on for about three days.

Finally, I figure out what is happening. One of my boys is going back to that book, replaying it, and unplugging his headphones at the exact moment the computer reads the word-

Jacka**.

And when I confronted the little lad on the situation, he burst into tears and told me “the computer made me do it.”

So. That was a fun few days.

Alright. Happy Monday!

Let us discuss all things basketball.

First, I will be inundating all of you with several video clips. This is because I want to save them and remember them for all eternity.

Both boys were starters on Varsity this year, and it was so very fun to hear both of their names called at the start of each game. HD, currently a junior, was point guard for the first time. We think he did a great job, but I do not know if he loved it. LD, currently a sophomore, is learning how to be a beast on defense. His coach came up to David and I towards the end of the season to let us know that he felt LD was the most improved player in a season he had ever seen.

LD is number 21.

HD is number 11. Also, a fun fact about HD is he is desperately trying to put on weight and he makes himself a milkshake everyday. So far, he has been unsuccessful. I cannot relate to this struggle.

And now I will force you to view a bunch of videos that you may or may not care about. However, if you don’t view them, I will never know. So. Keep that in mind.

1st video-I like this one because HD makes a layup, makes it, and is followed for the “and 1.” You can see LD (21) get excited and I just liked that so much.

Also. HD was knocked down multiple times a game.

2nd Video-LD was excited about this one. “Mom, did you get the video where I stuffed the 3 pointer?!”

The championship tournament came, and it was an absolute battle. The first game was hard fought and HD was hit and knocked down multiple times. He had 22 points and multiple rebounds, assists, and steals. They wont hat game and advanced to the next one.

This one was tough-they ended up heading into overtime. And, hold on to your pants, because I am about to get bragadocious, but HD was key in helping them get through that extra quarter.

Here’s a video of him getting a layup in during that overtime-

And this was the final video of the night-this was his 6th foul shot during that overtime. He made all but this one, but I wanted to remember this because he was so beat up during this round. He was limping to the foul line. A teammate gets the rebound and gets the ball to him and he just lets the clock wind down. As soon as the buzzer went, he walked off the court and the coach hugged him.

And then he walked to the stands and gave all of his grandparents hugs.

That night, the boys were extremely sore. HD had a swollen hand and multiple bruises. The best thing ever happened though-the boys donned swim trunks and were on the phone with all their teammates and the whole team took ice baths because, and I quote:

“Coach said.”

So, they made it to the championship game. And, yes, it was another full on battle.

LD with a 3 pointer-

HD with the buzzer beater at the half-

HD with a steal and layup-

Unfortunately, they lost the championship game by 5 points. But we were very proud of their season and the fact that their team took 2nd place.

Jason brought his family to watch the game-

Remember Jason?

Anyways, here are two pictures of the boys with Jason and Amy’s kids after the big championship game.

HD was selected to be on the All League Team! It was very exciting and a nice end to his season. He did a good job as point guard-makes the plays happen, moves the ball around, and assists his teammates with getting their shots in.

It is hard to believe that this guy-

would grow up to be such a good ball player.

One night, probably about 12 years ago, David brought the first basketball home for the girls. HD took it, bounced it once, and it hit him in the face and his glasses shattered.

David and I looked at each other and said, “Welp. That kid isn’t going to ever play basketball.”

Thank you for indulging me. I have a farm/life/school update post that I will make soon.

Happy Saturday!

We have been testing this week in first grade, and my team teachers and I are exhausted. We have been sharing battle stories, and it is the most amazing therapy in the evening to laugh and laugh via the text at the end of the day.

We have this assessment we need to give to determine which kids have mastered their sounds for this point in the year. This is given whole class, and the students must sit and listen to me dictate a sound and they write the sound on their paper. The total number of sounds they will need to write down is 41. Some are blends, some are vowel sounds, some are consonants, etc. You get the gist.

Friends. This test is painful. I say a sound, and most kids will write it down and be ready for the next one. Some kids are day dreaming and are not even realizing I am talking. I try to walk around and monitor to make sure everyone is keeping up with me . . . but I never catch them all.

After I was about 5 sounds in, I see one boy just staring at his paper. His paper has about 4 holes in it and he has not written anything.

Me: Dude! What’s going on?

Student: My shirt was wet.

Me: How was it wet?

Student: I fell in a puddle at recess.

I look and the arms of his sleeves are wet. I scramble to get him a new paper and tell him to start at sound 6 and I will catch him up later. I told him to push up his sleeves.

He did not push them up. His second paper also got holes. But he was more positive this time.

Student: My new paper has holes, too. But I can still write the words down.

And I allowed it.

For f,l,s, and z, they have to come up with two ways to spell the sound because of our FLOSS rule, so they should write f, -ff and s, -ss, etc.

So for the consonant sound “r”, one of my poor confused little lads wrote:

r, -rr

We do the consonant y. I say “y” as clearly as I can. Another boy tries to repeat it back to me, but when he does, he is saying the y sound with what sounds like a short i sound at the end.

Boy: yuh-i?

Me: No, “y”

Boy: yuh-i?

Me: No. Everyone. Look at my mouth. “Y”

Still. One boy wrote down yi. Ironically, not the boy who was saying yi. That one wrote down just y.

We get to two sounds for long I. Those would be i (like in hi) and y (cry).

About three kids wrote: i, eye. Because eye was one of our red words recently.

Then we get to blends.

Me: Make sure you put down both sounds that you hear! These are blends! They are sounds like: bl, mp, ct, etc, and the kids did amazingly well on them.

And I kid you not, when I was trying to get them to just give me consonant “x”, a couple of them wrote “ks” because, if you really listen carefully, when you say the “x” sound, it sounds like a ks blend.

Me: Ok. Everyone touch #27 and make sure you at the right spot. The next sound is . . .

Girl: Wait! What was #26 again?

Me: (sigh)

I walk over to her. She hasn’t written anything since #19. I tell her to just start at 27 and I will catch her up later. This news is grievous to her and she melts into a puddle on the floor in despair.

And I pressed on and finished the test anyways. Caught her up later.

The next day, we had to do words and sentences, may the Lord bless me and keep me.

Would you like to hear some of the words this test wants the kids to spell? Of course you do.

Three of them were: thesis, cupid, and tripod.

Me: Look at my mouth. Look at me. Look at me. You need to see my mouth for this one.

Kids look at me. They also look like they aren’t having the best time. Neither am I.

Me: “th” “th” “th” thesis. Look at me when I say the first sound. “th”

And yet, a handful still wrote fesis. And I still feel it was a win because they thought I said the f sound, most likely because they didn’t look and listen when I asked, but the rest of the word is correct.

Me: Ok, the next word is cupid. Let’s tap out each syllable. First syllable: cu-listen! I am not saying the letter “q”. The letter “q” is not in this word. I am saying : “c . . . u” No one should be writing a q in this word.

Never the less, a few kids spelled cupid as qupid.

But, Friends. My team teacher had the most precious one of all. We have taught them that -dge says “j” at the end of words. So when she asked the kids to spell “jazz”, one precious little girl wrote

dgeazz.

And that is gold, my friends.

***

HD shot a buzzer beater in a game recently. See?

LD also did that recently, yet I did not get it on video.

***

Let us discuss the steer. The steer who sisters Meagan and Jess named “Marion” and my friend Erika named George and who I don’t want to name so my heart won’t get broken.

We had been getting him up over the weekend and the longest he could stay up was about 30-45 minutes before collapsing.

On Monday night after school, I was the first one home. I was wearing a dress, decided that was just fine, and put a work coat and muck boots and went to check on him.

This is what he looked like-

!

How long was he like THAT? So I work on trying to get him upright, and I just cannot at first. And I am in my stupid dress and leggings and down in the hay trying to move him. After awhile I got him all set up again and he would need to wait for David to come home and lift him up.

When David got home, he went out there and smacked George Marion on the butt and he just . . . stood up.

?

And that was the turning point. That evening he was up for about 3 hours and then the next morning, David made sure he was up at 4am . . . and I checked at 5am . . . and boys at 6:45 and he was still up.

And then do you know what he looked like after school that day?

So, yay, hooray! I think, and I am saying with the most caution I can, I think we did it.

But mostly, I want to say: I was right. I win. David said leave him, he will die, and I was like, nay, he might live.

And I win.

The other night, I told David I would put the calf to bed soon before I went to bed. This is completely unnecessary on my part, however, I feel better knowing he is upright and covered and hay and all cozy.

A bit later, I decided to get into my jammers.

Me: David! I know. I changed into my pajamas already. But it’s ok! Because I can wear my pajamas and still check on the calf!

And then I started wondering if that was a new lowpoint in my life?

Pajamas that also double as farm chore wear?

Thoughts?

Anyways. This is what George Marion looks like when he is all tucked in for the night.

It pleases me.

Happy Thursday.

When last we spoke, the boys and I attempted to save the life of a sick and down heifer calf. The next day, she was alive and would not drink anything or eat and we had to leave and go to school. During the day, I was able to email back and forth with our vet-which is just plain lovely of her. She gave advice with no charge. It is extremely difficult to find a vet willing to take on large animals these days. She is about an hour away and I appreciate her giving advice. Honestly, if we paid for her to come out, I think the bill would be more than the total value of the calf.

I mean. If I ruled the world, I would be like, “BRING IN THE VET!” any time there was something wrong, and David and the kids would watch me run the farm into the ground. But, I digress.

David and I got home Thursday evening. She was alive. I got her to drink a big bucket full of water and David gave her a shot of a mineral supplement (vet recommended) and then, together, we lifted her up.

And then she fell.

So we waited a bit and tried again. And she stood up! And she stayed up! And then I looked at her and decided she was a he. Because I know these things now.

So, our sick heifer is a steer.

Mr. Steer started walking around the hay barn. It was all very exciting. David and I decided to bring in a water trough and heater for the water and then build a barrier with hay bales so the calf would not wander out of the hay barn.

As we were moving the hay bales, we came across one dead Norma Jean Riley kitty.

So, I shall have this day for mourning. Poor kitty.

She never went outside, so I think she knew something was wrong or she was sick because she had burrowed a hole into a hay bale and was tucked away inside of it.

David had to get working on other farm chores. Our skidsteer is broken down-story of our lives-so he was working on that and I was in charge of filling the water trough. This required me taking buckets to the house and going one by one to fill it. But I did not mind at all-I was getting some nice steps in and my calf was up!

This morning.

I am once again, home alone, and before leaving, I decided to go check on Mr. Steer. He was laying down and I worked for about 40 minutes and could not get him up. I am not strong enough and need David.

So, here is his photo op for the day-

I hope he will fully recover.

Happy Friday!

We had a snow day today-and the unexpected day off is one of the biggest perks to being a teacher, I’ll tell you that right now.

The boys stayed in town at my parents, so I was home alone.

And now, I shall tell you about my snow day.

I looked out the window towards one of our cow pens and saw a calf who was laying down and very still. I watched it for awhile and decided it was dead. I knew I would sound like a fool if I told David there was something dead, and it turned out to be alive, so I waited a good while to make sure the thing was not moving and then I texted him.

His reply: Not dead.

Me: Well, it is not moving.

And he goes radio silent. Probably because he is managing a shop and it is his busy time. I cannot be certain. And, of course, right after I texted him, the calf moved its head a little bit.

Me: Sorry it is alive. What should I do?

David: Nothing. It will just die soon.

!

Bleeding hearts of the world. I cannot let this happen on my watch. So, I suited up-Farm Girl Style.

Before we go any further, I need you to please all understand that I truly have no idea what I am doing.

At all.

However, I just cannot hang out in my warm house and do my thing and see a dying creature getting snow toppled over it. It is not in the fibers of my being. And, yes. I am fully aware of our track record, and yes, I know that this calf will most likely die, but at least I can say I tried.

So. I went to our stash of bovine medications. Yes-we have bovine medication-don’t you? I decide on one that I think will solve this calf’s problems and determine the dosage based on its weight of approximately 400 pounds and I trek on out there.

This is what she looked like:

First, I try to get it to stand-no such luck. Then I feel the poor thing-totally frozen. Don’t know how it is still alive. Then-and here comes the worst part-I had to give it a shot. 3 shots actually because I needed 18ml and I could only find a 6 ml syringe.

So.

I look at the thing. I apologize to the thing. And I just jab the needle in her butt and hope for the best. Three times. She didn’t complain once.

Next, I tried to figure out how to get her warmed up. I decide I shall get a bale of hay, and I am not strong at all, and it took everything in me to grab a bale from the hay barn and trek through the snow. I used muscles that I did not even know I had.

I covered up and decided it would do for the time being.

Since I was already dressed for the snowpocalypse, I went to load the wood box. As I was doing so, I saw the rest of the cows in that pen go over to my dying calf and start eating the hay blanket.

!

Disclaimer-this calf is a year old. Not a newborn. If it was a newborn, I would have just carried it into the house. Like a normal person.

So, I decide to grab one of David’s empty grain sacks and I made sure hay was on the calf and then I put the grain sack on top like a blanket to try and keep the warmth on the calf and hopefully help the cows not eat away all of it’s insulation.

And that was fine for awhile, until it wasn’t and a bit later I had to go out there again and try to get her all situated. This time, I took the dogs. All of our cows double hate our dogs, so I figured they might be able to get her up.

No such luck.

But I got her all warm and cozy and she started to eat her hay blanket, which I took as a good sign, and then Charlie would not leave her, and I thought that was sweet and precious.

It is now noon-ish and the snow storm really starts to kick into gear. HD was texting me from my parents house-almost an hour away. When he heard about the calf, he said he was coming home. This was good, because I needed muscle, and bad because he drives a Honda Accord and it was snowmaggedon. But the boys made it home, and we got right to work.

HD had already formulated a plan-and it was a solid plan, so LD and I went with it.

First, we had to get the calf on a sled. This was no easy feat.

Next, we had to pull the calf out of the cow pen and into an area where we could attach a rope from the sled to the side by side.

And I have to admit, Friends-

Things were not looking good.

I mean. Come on. Look at it.

Doesn’t look super promising, does it.

Anyways, we get it to where the side by side can get it and we pull it to the hay barn.

Me, every 10 seconds: This is not good. I think it is dead.

HD (shouting): I SEE IT BREATHING.

And so on.

We get it inside and then we have to try and flip it back right side up.

Again. Not easy.

We break open another hay bale and start stuffing hay under the calf and all around it-trying to prop her up and warm her up. I went to get some drinking water for her and the boys found a propane heater and set it up.

She drank at least a half gallon of water and got back to eating. Meanwhile, the boys started getting the place sort of sealed in to keep as much heat in as possible.

I am thankful they came home to help me. We wanted them to stay in town because of the roads and HD only has a Honda Accord, but they made it home safely and did not end up in a ditch. And that is always a good thing.

We could only leave that heater on for a bit (fire danger), but that poor calf was so cold, there was steam coming up off of her body.

I do not know if she will make it, but we did our best-and I am so thankful the boys were able to help.

Happy Wednesday!

The other night, we were playing Scrabble. LD tried his hand at the word “quill”, but he spelled it “quil.”

Me: That’s not how you spell it.

LD: Yes, it is.

Me: No, it isn’t.

LD: Yes, it is.

Me: Dude. No. You need two L’s.

LD: What?

Me (exasperated): In a one syllable word, with a short vowel sound and one consonant sound after the vowel, you double the letters f,l,s, and z. It is the first concept I teach first graders.

LD looks at the rest of the family: I feel like the expectations on six years olds is too high.

***

Time has passed. Events have transpired. I have failed to keep you abreast.

Let’s get to it.

First Grade.

One afternoon, I was getting ready to head off to a meeting.

Me: When you get back from STEM class, I won’t be there. You will have a guest teacher, but I will be back before you pack up to go home.

Class: Why?

Me: I have a meeting.

Student: Boy, Mrs. Mal. I sure hope you aren’t about to get fired!

***

In my last post, I spoke of a student named “Sally.”

Oh, Sally.

Sally, Sally, Sally.

One day, Sally ran up to me.

“Mrs Mal! Is there a baby in your tummy?”

Me: No.

Sally grabs my lanyard with my school photo on it.

“WHOA! Mrs. Mal. Was this picture taken when you were a LOT younger?”

Me: Please sit down.

Teaching Sally, or rather, attempting to teach Sally, has been an exhausting battle. This girl is stubborn and often refuses to try. We have daily showdowns where I have to sit and wait her out in order to get her to sound out the word “tub.”

One week, we were working on the same decodable reader during my intervention time with her.

Same book. Everyday.

SAME. BOOK.

EVERY. DAY.

The first line in the book read, “Tad had a fat cat.”

Sally is 100% capable of reading every word in that sentence. Yet, everyday, Reader, this is what would happen:

Me: Listen to me. You will not guess. You will not pretend read. You will sound out each sound and do your best. Ok?

Sally: Ok.

Me: Ok. Go ahead.

And every time, she would swipe her finger across the page at lightning speed, not even look at the words, and say (not read, say):

“The cat is fat.”

I am happy to report that she is kind of, sort of, moving along. She is now reading words with digraphs and blends, if that means anything to you, but only if I bribe her with fruit snacks when she doesn’t guess.

I went to college for this.

Math has been the same story, but after Christmas break, a new Sally has appeared for math class. She hasn’t appeared yet in reading class, but I remain hopeful.

Our whole class is used to her answers and the kids are patient with her, even though her answers are oft in left field.

But reader. Listen to this.

Me: Ok, next problem. John has 11 marbles. He gives SOME to Ben. Now he has 9 left how many did he give to Ben?

Sally’s hand shoots in the air. And I call on her. And this is what she said.

“Two.”

We were, as a class, collectively in awe. One girl’s mouth dropped wide open and she looked at her and said,

“Wow. Good job, Sally.”

So that is that. I love her and I hope the best for her and I will need a lot of patience and fruit snacks to help this little learner get to second grade.

***

Before Christmas, the kids wrote these funny little writing pages where they could say what they thought their teacher would like for Christmas. Here are two of them:

I think my teacher wants a curling iron and clips for Christmas because she will be dazzling and pretty.

I mean. Come on.

Next one-

I think my teacher wants a cowhat for Christmas because I think you will like this cowhat cuz you love cow so much.

When that girl walked into class after Christmas break, she said,

“Mrs. Mal! Did you get the hat?”

Me: What?

Student: Did Santa bring you the hat? The cowhat? Did you get it?

Precious.

I did not get a cowhat. Sadly.

***

Let’s leave the fabulous world of first grade and try to update you on all things family.

The boys are huge and eating us out of house and home and also HD drives a newer car than me and they are both playing basketball.

Proof:

HD is on the left, LD on the right. LD is the youngest, yet largest of the family.

Every game, HD’s glasses go flying. Sometimes they recover well, sometimes he runs to the coach with them and he tries to pop the lenses back in. I keep trying to get him to pay Bob a visit but he is always too busy.

HD is a very fun player to watch. They don’t have a deep bench and he plays the entire game and never seems to tire and he has lots of fancy moves that he got from me.

Recently after a pretty big win, that they were not expected to win, there was a little write up in the paper about the game. HD had scored 14 of his 24 points in the 4th quarter and it was insane how their team came back and won. The coach from the other team was quoted in the paper commenting on how well HD “took the ball to the hole.”

We were all very proud of him, and rightfully so, but I did use it to my advantage from time to time.

Me: I need you to do the dishes.

HD:

Me:

HD:

Me: If you can do a good job getting the ball to the hole, you can do a good job getting your plate to the dishwasher.

LD is trying to figure out how to live inside of his new, large body. He is doing well getting up over the crowd down by the basket and getting the rebounds and such.

One game, he did what is known as a “stuff.” It was legal and great and awesome, but then he did some sort of muscle man move so he got a technical foul.

*sigh*

After the game, I was walking out near him and he came across the player from the other team who he had “stuffed.”

LD: Hey, man, I am sorry about that, I didn’t mean it to be-

Other Player: Oh, no bro. No worries. That was an awesome stuff! I would have done the same thing.

LD: I think we play you again sometime?

Other Player: Yeah. In a couple of weeks. See ya then!

LD: See ya!

So that was something.

The next time he performed a successful stuff (not to that same team), he stood stick straight as a statue and tried hard to not show any emotion or pride whatsoever. And, thankfully, no technical foul was called.

***

We got to have Hadley back for quite awhile during the Christmas break, which is nice and lovely and pleasant. On Christmas morning, she and HD decided to do some target practice. So, the two of them go on the back deck and do just that while I am inside trying to prepare the Christmas foods and calm Norman the dog down who feels we are under attack from rapid gunfire.

The door opens and in come Hadley and HD. Hadley is bleeding profusely. There is blood from her forehead down to her chin and when she was talking it was all in her teeth. I rush her to the bathroom and I am trying to wipe blood and figure out where her wound is. While I am doing this, she facetimes her bff, Lily. So, I am wiping blood and Lily was at a family event and the whole room is watching what is going on and I don’t understand why she needed to facetime at that moment.

Turns out when she shot the gun, there was kickback and the scope wacked her in the head.

HD runs in the bathroom.

“HADLEY! Good news! You HIT THE TARGET!”

So, we took her to the urgent care on Christmas day and the doc decided to dermabond it. That will be important later.

Anyways. She looked like she had a worm stuck to her head.

See?

After a couple of days, she managed to wack her head on her steering wheel doing a dramatic reenactment of her feelings about a boy saying she looked like she had a worm on her head to Lily, causing blood and yellow pus to ooze out of the dermabond.

I took her back to the urgent care and a new doctor saw her. And new doctor was like, “Well did you tell the other doctor you did not want a noticeable scar?” And we were like, “Why, yes, we did.” And new doctor was like, “Well then she should not have used dermabond, she should have stitched it, but it is too late to do anything about now.”

?

So, that antagonized me.

Kate, Caleb and Nokona the puppy came for a bit after Christmas and were here for Kate’s, and you better sit down for this-

TWENTY FIRST BIRTHDAY.

I mean.

How?

Anyways. Here she is with a beautiful cake my nieces made her. Same gals who made her wedding cake.

Now, that’s talent.

On her actual birthday, we went to dinner as a family. Hadley was still sporting a worm on her head. As pretty young adults do.

Kate and Caleb brought Nokona the puppy with them, and she had a grand time playing farm dog with Charlie, Niko, and Norman.

She also looks a lot like Niko and Norman. Almost like she was the missing third piece of a set.

She was pretty much living her best life on the farm.

***

HD has a girlfriend-have I told you this? Since May. She is great! We all love her!

They went to their first dance a couple of weeks ago.

Doesn’t she have the best smile? She needs to teach him how to smile.

***

Rio is totally obsessed with me. This is what she does every time I try to read.

She commands attention.

I have not seen Mama Kitty or Norma Jean Riley for quite some time.

I fear the worst.

***

Hadley’s worm glob fell off. I think she will heal fine.

***

Well, that is that for now. I will leave you with one cow picture and two pictures of my baby puppies from our walks. Because I choose to believe you would like to view those pictures.

Happy Monday!