The Lumberjack's Wife

Look at these two.

Do they look like vicious canines who would slaughter precious chicks?

Alas.  They did.  As mentioned in my last post.  We have since boarded all the chicks up again in the coop so the poor creatures cannot see the light of day.  When you open the door to offer them food and water, they scatter and take cover.  And do we blame them?

No, Reader.  We do not.  You did not see the atrocities that happened to their comrades.  But I did.  And I was kind enough to not show you photgraphic evidence.

I have been working so hard at making my coop pleasant and lovely.  And when I say that, I of course mean, the boys and David have worked hard at making a flower bed around the coop and hanging window boxes and such for me so the coop could look nice.

The poor apple tree.  It got ran over by a four wheeler.  David, who did not run it over, came into the house and informed me:

Your apple tree.  Dead.  Done.  Goner.

He was frustrated.  Sometimes he gets frustrated whilst working with the teens.  Anyways, I took some green painter’s tape and taped up the split trunk and we are pretending all is well and it is blooming so who knows?  There should be chicks pecking the ground behind there, but that is where the slaughter happened.  So they are boarded up for now.

Look!  My student, Al, and his mama gave me a “We appreciate you” flower basket.

And I hung it on my coop!  The coop with the traumatized chicks!

You may ask, “Taylor.  Did you notice the coop was splattered with mud?”

And I will say, “YUP.”

It is what it is.

Let’s talk about front doors.

While I was painting the front door, David walked by and commented:

“In and out, huh?”

And I said, “What?” and he walked away and I stared and I thought and I stared and I thought and I had absolutely no idea what on earth he was saying, so I continued with my task.

And then he hung the door and it all became clear.

I painted the outside Sea Serpent Blue.

AND the inside.

Oops.

Now what?

Nothing, that’s what.  It will stay like that for awhile.  Just like the mud on my coop.

***

Many years ago, when Teller was a young girl in driver’s ed, she had an instructor who wore Hammer pants.

Reader.  Do you know what Hammer pants are?

He was a character, and, coincidentally, he is still a driver’s ed instructor and he instructed Hadley.

Anyways.

Mr. Hammer Pants scared the living daylights out of me.  Every single class, he told us of a teen car accident death and I was sure I would never survive the open road.  One such lesson was on getting a blow out.  Mr. Hammer Pants made me feel like if one were to get a blowout, the car would come out of control and you could not steer or brake or anything and certain death was upon you.  I have never had a blowout, but I have been terrified of them all the same.

And then.

Mother’s Day.

On Mother’s Day, David announced his truck, yes the one the caught fire only a few days ago, was, once again, broken down.  So he borrowed my car with a trailer to do something important and managed to get a flat tire.

Me:  What do you do, exactly?  How do you drive?  I have never had a flat tire or a car catch fire?  What is your secret?

Anyways, he went and repaired the flat and told me it would buy us some time.

Great.  Grand.  Wonderful.

Then we had to go to town.  We had plans to see his Mama and company for Mother’s Day.  We were having lunch at 1:30 and the Dudes were furious at me that they were not presented with a noonday meal around 12, which is child abuse.

David left a bit early.  He was taking his truck to a mechanic and I was to meet him there and pick him up.

David:  If it breaks down, the repair will be $15,000.

Great.  Grand.  Wonderful.

So, he toodled off to town with the boys and I left later with the girls and then, and you had better sit down for this-

I had a blowout.

!

ON MOTHER’S DAY.

It was extremely anticlimatic and I did not go soaring through the air or careening out of control.  I felt something was wrong and I pulled over calmly.

The end.

Great.  Grand.  Wonderful.

So, I call David, and he was like, “Are you serious, you had a blowout?” And I was like, “What would be my motivaton to prank you about such a thing?” So he had to take the soon-to-be $15,000 broken down truck and toodled back to where I was, stranded on the road.

ON MOTHER’S DAY.

David and the boys pull up, all three males swing into action like the Marx brothers and LD runs and puts rocks in front of my tires and I did not know why he did that for at least 24 hours.

My Sweet Infiniti has a spare tire under the car, but my Sweet Infiniti does not have the jack and tool kit to get the tire.  Which is apparently essential.

Great.  Grand.  Wonderful.

So, David, who dressed up for his Mama’s special lunch, had to lay under my car for TWO SOLID HOURS and try to pry this tire down from the Sweet Infiniti.

Cars were zooming past us at 60-70 miles per hour and the boys kept getting close to the white line and I about flipped my lid.  Because I prefer safety.

David kept shout-requesting tools from under the Sweet Infiniti and we would run to his truck and see if he had them.

David:  CAN YOU FIND A HAMMER?

I would scamper on over to the truck and return with:

I HAVE FOUND TWO AXES, A WRENCH, AND SEVERAL TIE DOWN STRAPS.

Kate’s car was only a few miles from where we were.  Don’t ask why, it is too long to explain and matters not one bit.  David told Kate and I to take the truck and go fetch Kate’s car.  No one knew why, but you tend to obey someone who is in dress clothes on the ground of a highway under a car for two hours.

David:  But if the truck breaks down, it is $15000.

Me:  How will I know if it is breaking down?  What do I do?

David:  Nothing.

And, Reader, I am just hopeful it will not burst into flames.

ON MOTHER’S DAY.

We get Kate’s car and now we have the Infiniti, truck and her car on the side of the road and we use her jack/tool kit, but the Sweet Infiniti is all full of itself and has a special tool kit that is different from all others with a stupid t-shaped end and her kit won’t work.  So I call all the auto stores in town and everyone is like, “Yeah, you are going to have to special order that online.”

Meanwhile, the boys are furious with me because it is like 3pm and they have not been fed.

ON MOTHER’S DAY.

David finally tells me to call a tow truck.  So I start to Google that when he shouts,

GOT IT!

And just then, Reader, the spare tire dropped.

David, who had literal dirt in his ears, came out from under the car in his nice, albeit filthy, button down shirt rolling the spare out, proving, once again, that not all heroes wear capes.

So, now we had to get both the Sweet Infiniti and the truck to the same mechanic and hope that the truck would not break down and cost us $15000.

And we made it and my dad let us borrow his truck, the end.

We were nearly three hours late to David’s Mamas Mother’s Day lunch.  They warmed up leftoversand the boys ate everything in sight like piranhas.  And my Mother in Law was not even irritated at us.  She is probably used to our antics.  She has known David for a long time, after all.

Then we had to rush back home!  Because I was hosting dinner for my mom and Sisters Meagan and Jess were arriving.

Great.  Grand.  Wonderful.

We were late to the party we hosted, but all was well and we ate taco stuff and I haven’t heard how much the truck will cost, but I don’t think it will cost $15,000.

The End.

Kate had her senior prom last night with Auggie.

A few days ago, she declared a national disaster because her dress color was, and I quote “THE WORST COLOR EVER.”

She had purchased the dress online.  No one else agreed that it was ugly, so she kept it.

The best part was she bought these shoes with the biggest heel you had ever seen.

When Auggie came to the door, I greeted him with this:

“Hello.  You look nice and all that jazz, but listen.  I need you to be on my team.  Kate is wearing shoes and she should not wear these shoes.  But she chooses not to listen to me.  I am going to give you three reasons as to why she should not wear these shoes:

1.  She literally cannot walk.  At all.
2. She is going to be like a foot taller than you.
3. She is probably going to get injured.”

Auggie, who is always such a good-natured fellow, proclaimed he could not care less if she was taller than him.  This is something I like about Auggie.  He is a bit on the smaller size, and takes all teasing very easily and is just a chill and agreeable dude.

Would Kate listen to my mother or I about her shoes?

No.

Would Kate listen to Auggie about her shoes?

Yes.

After Kate and Auggie drove off into the sunset, the rest of us were to be helping Ma and Pa with some yard work and the like.  They are being so generous to host a party for Kate’s graduation, so we were there to help.

Our schedules are super tight, so we only had this one evening to dedicate to pool cleaning.  As luck would have it, it was the most frigid night you could imagine, plus rain, and it was awful and we looked amazing and here is a picture of Mom and Hadley.

It was unpleasant.

But we had to do it!  And we did it and everyone lived and everyone looked like a drowned rat afterwards.

***

Reader.

There is something you need to know about David.

David will only chew Extra brand gum in bubblegum flavor.

If you buy him a different brand of bubblegum, he will not even try it.

Not.

Even.

There is something else you need to know about David.

He is cheap.

But only with some things.  Like gum!  Not if he goes to a livestock auction.

David is a grown 40 year old man, but he allows himself only ONE piece of Extra brand Bubblegum per day.

Just one!

And he can make it last the entire day.  How, you ask?  Well.  He purchases peppermints and sticks them in his gum to suck on them to give the gum a bit of flavor during the day.

How many peppermints can David have in a day?

Infinity.

How many pieces of gum can David have in a day?

ONE.

It’s the rules.

Not for me.  I sometimes have TWO pieces of gum.  But don’t tell.

***

I was outside doing some farm and ranching when UPS came.  The UPS man did not see me, but the dogs were right there at his van.  He opened his van door and just tossed a bunch of dog treats out the door and is that not the most genius idea you ever heard?

The dogs scattered, he delivered packages without getting barked at, the end.

***

We are in the middle of a bunch of projects over here.  One such project is the chicken coop.  You will recall that David told me the coop wasn’t ready.  I asked him what needed to be done and did it myself and put the chickens in the coop.  I let the dogs out and watched them try to breach the perimeter.  They were unable to, so I called it a success.

Meanwhile, the dudes were spreading bark and HD got mad at LD and somehow LD got hit with a shovel and had an owie on his leg.

Later, we went to town and HD had the AUDACITY to suggest that they get coffee drinks for their hard work.

Me:  There will be no coffee drinks for boys who hit their brothers with shovels!

I feel it is good parenting advice.  Feel free to steal it.

Also, I did not do a good job on the fence and within 24 hours, the dogs breached the perimeter and slaughtered six chicks.

It was a colossal bummer.

***

Have you been wondering if I am going to get a new front door for Mother’s Day?

You are not alone.

This old door is past its prime.

David scored an unwanted door off a jobsite and brought it home.  I painted it today and got things all ready.  I cannot show you a picture because the door is currently still in the driveway.

The old door is already in the trash pile.  And I currently am home alone, blogging, with no front door.

David and the boys are trying to capture Wandering Heifer of the Hills.  Who apparently wasn’t a heifer at all, but a bred cow, because she was spotted WITH A CALF.

Apparently the calf is reddish in color with a white marking on his/her face and I am all agog, but the pair are still roaming the hills all wild-like.

Anyways, I have no front door and they are all trying to get the cow/calf and if they are successful I plan to name the calf “Little Red.”  Because I can.

I wasn’t invited to the rodeo, but I am ok with that.

I am weaning Hazel down to one bottle, and more furious she could not be.  She has eye goop again and I asked David to shoot her in the buns with something to fix her and he was like, “No.”

!

On MOTHER’S DAY EVE and EVERYTHING!

“Taylor.  You can’t just give her a shot for everything. She needs to build up an immune system.”

I probably should listen to him since I totes failed on the whole chick/fence/dog situation, but I am still worried.

I don’t see her as much.  She is acting like a cow and hanging with cows.  She does, however, like to come to the gate and yell at me when she is hungry.

***

Here is a picture of Charlie napping.

You’re welcome.

Yes, hello.  It is Tuesday night.  The boys are playing basketball.  Hadley is working.  Kate is asleep. David is working on his truck.

And here are tonight’s top stories.

***

Yes!  David is working on his truck.  Weird.  David, the boys, and Auggie, all drove home Saturday from working at the river when, and please sit down for this, the truck caught fire.

Like legit flames.

Boys:  Don’t worry, Mom!  We were able to put it out with a water bottle and a half of a can of Dr. Pepper.

And so, for reasons that I do not know, the truck is, yet again, broken down, and David is working on it often.  He needs to get it running again so it can break down again.

***

Kate officially started work as a CNA.  She works at the same medical office that my mother works at, so I was able to score this fab photo.

And please be impressed that I blurred out the non-daughter of mine all professional like.

***

The other night, Charlie eyed a squirrel in a tree.

She waited patiently for it for hours upon hours and I have no idea what happened because I went to bed before she came in.

Our dogs live a happy life.

They chase cows.  They chew on chicks.  They nap in manure.

They smell really bad.  But they are happy.

David and the teens, plus a few boyfriends here and there, worked on rebuilding our new 9 foot high chicken coop last weekend.   I was able to snap this photo whilst feeding my best girl, Hazel.

I am really quite excited.  I was hopeful to transfer the chickens to their new coop on that very day, but then David was like, “Nope, the dogs will eat them.  Two weeks.” And then he went to work on his truck and so I don’t know what’s going on, but the chickens are busting out of that brooder box.

I am getting old and sassy.  You should have SEEN the list I sent to David and company regarding my wishes for Mother’s Day/Birthday.

It involved things such as, but not limited to:

A NEW FRONT DOOR.

You guyzzzz.  Our front door has been broken for many months.  Years?  I don’t know.  I even painted the broken door Sea Serpent blue but I want a new door with my whole being.  The door became even more broken and I sent this picture to David and he was all reasonable and like-

“Just push it back in.”

Reader.  This was not the response I had hoped for.  Also.  I think I see peach!

*gasp*

Long-time readers shall remember the horror of the peach.

I think.

Anyways, I want a new front door.

And what does it mean, to be so old and long for a new front door?

And I just had my teacher evaluation, and I did not get fired, and so I told David that I deserved a new front door, but he just keeps working on that truck.  But, Reader.   I want a new front door for Mother’s Day and I want help painting it.

I also want help propping up an apple tree Kate destroyed with the 4 wheeler.

And help spreading new bark.

And help with general home maintence.

And a fountain for my deck.  You know.  For ambiance.

Yes.  It is all a bit much, but this is what happens when someone is almost 40 and married to a man whose truck randomly catches fire in a bad way, but not so bad that a half a can of Dr. Pepper can’t put it out.

Anyways.  I went to the dentist.  I hate the dentist.  I loathe it with my entire being.  I have a bit of gum recession and I absolutely hate when they work on my teeth.

And then they talk to me!  And the lovely gal cleaning my teeth was asking my opinion on Venmo and I just don’t understand how she expected me to give a resonable response as she was chiseling away at my teeth.

But, I digress.

I am super high maintenance at the dentist now and I tell them they cannot do the polish thing because the vibrations irritate me.

Dental Assistant:  Oh!  Ok.  So no polish?

Me:  No, thank you!  As I get older it really bothers me.  That’s what happens when you are almost 40, I guess!

Dental Assistant:  What!?  You are not that old!

Me:  I am 39.  I will be 40 in June.

Dental Assistant:  NO!

And, Reader.  She went to my chart and looked at my actual birth date and told me I don’t look a bit older than 27.  And the only reason I am telling you that is so I can shamelessly boast to you all that I don’t look 39 and 11/12ths years old.

I look 27.

Also:  still no cavities.

I am killing it over here!  David surely needs to buy me a door.

Yes?

***

In my fabulous first grade class, we finished Charlotte’s Web and started the Tale of Despereaux.

More organized teacher partner:  Wow!  Will you even have time to finish a new chapter book before the end of the school year?
Me:  I had not even considered it!

So.  I need to read like 5-17 chapters a day, but it is such a good book and no one will mind.

We had first graders come in today to work on a Mother’s Day gift.

These two precious girls from my class noticed in the Zoom world that they own the same dress, so they wore it together today.

Is that not the most precious thing? Plus the chick in the heart sunglasses?

I just love them.  I don’t want the year to end.

Sure, I like summer and all, but I really get attached to these kids.

One of my kids can be challenging.

Let’s call him, “Al.”

Al was supposed to be finishing this writing prompt on a gift for his mother:

“I love you because . . . ”

Another teacher pal came to get me because Al was about to flip his lid.

Me:  Ok!  We can do this.  I know your mom!  She is amazing!  She is patient, she is kind.

Al (writhing with frustration):  NO!

Me:  Does she play games with you?  Cook you yummy food?

Al:  Ugh!  I know what I want to say!  I just cannot figure out the words!

So, I turn to help someone else and then, I go back to Al:

He wrote:  “I love you becuase . . . I love you stronger than the wind and farther than the sun.”

Is that not the most precious thing you ever saw?

Happy Tuesday!

This just in:

A neighbor has called David and the wandering heifer of the hills has been spotted!  And get this-she is like WAY far away.  Miles upon miles she has traversed.

We are going to need to set a strategic plan in place, Friends.  It shall involve Farrier Friend on a horse with a lasso and I simply cannot wait!  I do not know yet when this adventure shall transpire, but I shall surely enjoy it.

***

Hazel does this cute new thing of making me search for her for forty minutes every morning to give her a bottle.  This I don’t have time for.  If I am working from home, I just wait until she gets good and hungry and comes and finds me.

On Wednesday, I was teaching my students and told them about how she had not yet been fed.  My students double love Hazel and get stars in their eyes whenever I speak of her.  I decided to completely throw my “lesson plan” to the wind and took my laptop to the back deck.  The students and I called Hazel and she came running!

You may ask, “Taylor!  Why did you put ‘lesson plan’ in quotes?”

Well.  Because I don’t write lesson plans.  I just think them. But don’t tell anyone.

Anyways, Hazel was so excited and then she snuck under the fence and was literally at the front door.  The students told me to feed her, and so I started to make a bottle with them.

Rest assured, I threw some math skills in there.

And then I took them out with me and we fed her right there on the front porch.

They will most likely never forget me.  I am just coocoo enough to be forever engraved in their memories.

***

Today, a student changed his Zoom name to Sir Poops A Lot.

There are 30 school days left.

***

Yesterday, the entire first grade team had an all first grade get together.

On the agenda:

Lunch in the field.

Do a super secret self portrait for Mother’s Day.

Do a super secret poem for Mother’s Day.

Plant a potato plant.

Enjoy each other’s company.

There are four teachers on our team: Kristin, Lydia, Cassie, and myself.

Kristin and Lydia were in the building with technology and tables instructing the children on how to do the self portraits.

Cassie and I were outside in the field doing the poems, potato plants, and facilitating the enjoying each other’s company.

And now, I would like to present:

A List of Things that Cassie and I did wrong.

1.  We thought doing potato plants would be a splendid idea.
2. Reader.  It was anything but splendid.
3. Cassie is like, WAY too prepared for life and wanted to cut the potatoes two days early.
4. I agreed with her.  Like a fool.
5. Reader.  Have you ever smelled a rotten potato?  And then did you cut the potato?  And then did you let it sit in your classroom for two days awaiting plantation?
6. The poem we gave the kids to work on “independly” was way too much too handle.
7. Cassie and I felt like we could easily work this out with clipboards and calm children who didn’t need help reading or spelling and we would simply walk about the pleasant children on the pleasant day in the pleasant weather and no children would ever need to use the bathroom.
8. Reader.  Kids needed to use the bathroom.
9. One student:  I would like to describe myself as dramatic.  How do I spell it?
10. Me:  Cool!  Better sound it out!
11. Would you like to know how he spelled it?
12. Sure you do:  Jhmilmiik.
13. Me:  Looks great, Bud.
14. Because I had NO TIME. NO TIME, Reader.
15. Oh!  And then summer decided to come!  And what fun!  But no one was prepared!  And we were hot and cranky and Cassie’s arms got all burnt like a lobster or something.
16. And the poems were not getting written and we still had to plant pototoes and the potatoes were festering something fierce and smelled wicked bad.
17. Meanwhile, Lydia and Kristin were in the building guiding half of the group on self portraits and totally killing it and not getting sunburned.
18. Precious nephew was out in the field with me.  He was working on his poem and I told him to smile.  He totally threw down his clipboard and offered this pose:
19. Reader.  I did not complain.
20. When Kristin and Lydia, who had just led what was presumably the most professional lesson known to man were ready to switch, Cassie and I totally threw out the poem idea and just worked on potato plants and allowing the kids to visit.
21. Kristin and Lydia:  Ok!  We got every first grader to complete a beautiful self portrait.
22. Cassie and Taylor:  We got sunburnt, almost lost one kid but didn’t, and completed zero poems.  We did get the potatoes planted!

So, it was a fail.

Also, did you know you cannot “Mute” kids in person?

***

When I got home last night, Hazel accosted me at my car, wishing to have a bottle.

So hangry.

Then she had the audacity to try to go in the house and then she peed on the porch.

***

I finished Charlotte’s Web today with my kids.  I love it more and more each year.  If you have a child in your life, read them this book.  Grab the kid, place them in your lap, and read the book outloud.

You’re welcome.

***

Today, I looked out the window and saw steers out.  This is happening way too often my friends.

I had to wake the boys up and all three of us had to go out there in pajamas and try to get this steer in and repair the fence.

Some of you have never had to try and bring in loose steers with your middle school boys before you even had a cup of coffee, and it shows.

The boys even went out with bare feet and sandals.

I am still annoyed about it.

Happy Weekend!

Because David is a jolly fellow, he will upon occasion, text a group of himself, Kate, Hadley, and I, ridiculous dad jokes randomly.

David:  Did you hear they aren’t going to make yard sticks any longer?

I check my text and roll my eyes and get back to my life.

And then there’s Kate.

Kate:  oh, no!  why?

(Fun fact.  Kate refuses to allow capital letters in her texts.  It is against her religion)

Me:  Kate.  It was a joke.  They won’t make yard sticks any longer than three feet.

Kate:  ohhhhhhhhhh

She’s a party and a half, that girl.

***

Kate’s boyfriend texted me yesterday morning.  It became quite apparent very quickly that he thought he was texting Kate.

Boyfriend:  Good Morning, Sweet Baby.  🙂

Me:  Don’t make it weird, Dude.

Boyfriend:  Oh, my pants.

So, now, I shall say the phrase, “Oh, my pants!” when appropriate.

***

Look!  I found proof that there is a cow out there who licks Hazel!

Can you see it?  Can you see it?

Now, to get someone to scrub her poo-covered tail.

***

I am officially terrifed of our three new Mama Cows:  Crazy 8, R350, and Earlene.

Oh, I thought Earlene was nice.  I was taking this lovely photo of her because I felt her udder was mucho impressive.

Look at it!  It looks like a balloon ready to pop!

Uncomfy.

Her baby is somewhere on the other side of her and soon after I took that photo, which was ZOOMED in by the way, I wasn’t even that close, she put her head down and ran after me.

LIKE SHE WAS GOING TO KILL ME!  OH, MY PANTS!

I ran away and just kept imagining how bad it would hurt once that giant head knocked into my backside.  I screamed at the thought and then she stopped chasing me and I lived but now I am very cautious and don’t go out there as much and carry a large stick.  Because I like checking on cows, but I don’t like almost dying.  And know my knee is raging against the machine because I ran.  And can you believe I am still waiting for workman’s comp to workout what’s going to happen with my knee injury from February the 3rd?

***

David is working on a big project at our River Property.  He is prepping for concrete.  This is a bit much for him as he is still working full time and being a cow rancher and such.

Last night.

David:  I have to go down to the property to check to see if the bobcat is broken and take measurements.  Want to come?

Me:  That’s fine.

So, off we went.  And the river flooded, but now is receding.  LD put this stick at the water line 5 days prior.

You guyzzzzz.

David is bananas.

First of all, he had to take some measurements that involved shoving wire through conduit and don’t ask me any questions because I literally have no idea.

But!

This was totally a two person job, in my humble opinion, and he was like acting earlier like it was no big deal if I came or not.

Me:  How would you have done this without me?

David (shrugs):  Just would have taken twice as long.

So he would have me stand and shout things to him and he was working and, Reader, there is something you need to know.

David literally runs from Point A to Point B.

Scout’s honor.

And it was like, 7pm on a WEDNESDAY.

Me:  Why are you running?

He answers not.

Weird.

Me:  David!  Is this how you are at work?

David:  Pretty much.

Me:  Are you for serious?

David:  Oh, yeah.  I get made fun of.  People tell me not to work so hard.  But I can get a house done twice as fast as other journeyman.

And I am still trying to process what it all means.  And now I understand why he can eat ice cream and M and Ms and not need a gym membership.  And  I also understand why I should never, EVER, ever, join him with feasting of M and Ms because, dooooood.

I probably still will eat M and Ms when he brings them near me.

But let the records show:  I am full aware that I definitely shouldn’t.

And how does he know how to do all the things?  I do not know.

Before I go, I want you to fully understand that he actually and literally runs.

It would be like me running from the dryer with clean clothes to the bed and back again to try and increase my laundry load quota.

He must think I am the laziest creature in the world.  Because I walk.  I might even describe it as a casual saunter.

Oh, well.

Happy Thursday.

Yesterday morning, I went out to feed Hazel and captured this Hallmark moment:

These just might be the happiest days of my life.

Alright.

I was walking and checking on cows yesterday, when Bam!  I came across the presumed dead calf of cow R350.

This calf was right by cow R350 and “You know that 8+ month pregnant cow David recently bought.”

This calf is a new one and did NOT have a tag in its ear.  We had just tagged “You know that 8+ month pregnant cow David recently bought” baby so we would know it was hers.

But I could not see “You know that 8+ month pregnant cow David recently bought”‘s calf.  And we are just gonna call that cow Crazy Eight now because she literally went insane.

Reader.

She went after me.

I had to run and climb a stick pile and hide behind a tree.

I took this photo accidentally during my narrow escape.

Reader.

Can you feel the terror?

That cow knew I was behind that tree.  And she stared at me with ill-intent and would not leave me be.

I stood there for over 15 minutes and I got all covered in sap.  It was sticky and unpleasant.

All the other cows got up and decided to change locations.  They do this and I have no idea why.  They are like all hanging out in one area, chewing their cud, then they all get up and go to another area and sit and chew their cud or eat or what have you.  They don’t talk to each other, but they all know what the plan is.

When her gal pals left, Crazy 8 started with them, so I felt it was safe, but then she turned back and went after me again.

Again, Reader!

It was obvious she did not know where her calf was, so she was all a flutter.  She finally left me be and I was able to get back to the house, but she was mooing and running all about like an insane crazy person trying to find her calf.

When I checked later, I was able to confirm that her tagged calf was with her.  And I saw cow R350 and her calf alive and well.

And then I noticed that Earlene went and had herself a baby.

And I wasn’t even watching her for a baby.  I call her Earlene because she has unique ears.  She doesn’t have as much hair on the top of them as the others, so I can pick her out amongst the other unmarked black cows amidst our lands.

Earlene is not crazy and does not wish to murder me like Crazy 8 and Cow R350.

I told David NO MORE WILD COWS and he was like, but remember the Elusives?  They were wild and they calmed down.

And here is a photo I took of Elusive with a Tag today and he is right.  I walked right up to her and snapped her photo and she did not try to kill me.

Happy Endings.

Anyways.  Last week we had three calves born and all three are alive and that is happy news.

David and the boys left early this morning to work at the river and were out of service.  Hadley and I were the only ones home when I discovered that 4 older calves had gotten out of David’s calf pen.

You guys.

I am like a true rancher wife person now.

I figured out where in the cattle panels the calves had gotten out AND I MENDED IT.

I got Hadley up and we tried for two hours to get calves in and we were unsuccessful so she went to town and I remained at home.

Three of the calves appeared out of nowhere on the complete opposite end of the property and I, yes, I, Taylor Maliblahblah, got them all back in.

All.

By

My.

Self.

It involved cutting open a panel and luring with grain and jumping the corral THRICE and shoving cattle to and fro and then repairing the panel, but I did it.

Here are two of them before I took their freedom away.

I had a few projects for today, but my day was taken with general animal husbandry and I kind of took a nap.  So no projects were completed.

Kate became a certified CNA yesterday and accepted a new full time job as a CNA.

She was exhausted.

Her graduation party is coming up and I had to go through a bunch of photos and I know everyone says it all the time, but-

Where does the time go?

Hazel is now ten weeks old.

There are times, sadly, where I must take off my farming hat and enter society for awhile.  I greatly dislike these times.  And this is a complete 180 from my behavior during the first half of us living out here.  I will be honest:  I did not want to move out here and for a long time, I did not want to stay out here.

But, I digress.

If I am in town, then Hazel is not with me, and since I am her mother, she tends to miss me.  And I, her. So, when I return, I walk out onto our back deck and call her name.  And I would like to submit that there is nothing happier in this world than having a calf come hopping and leaping and wagging her tail towards you upon your homecoming.

I have cut out one of her bottles.

Stand down, Reader!  I am still giving her the recommended amount.  For awhile, I added a third bottle because she became so violent and full of rage when the milk stopped flowing.  She needs to learn how to be a cow and eat some grass, too.

She is trying to decide her opinion on hay.

She totally wants a bottle.  But I must remain firm and help her to learn how to be a bovine.  Parenting is hard, friends.  I am to be her mother, not her buddy.

***

We have two mysteries going on over here.

That’s right.  TWO.

The first one is the missing, older heifer calf.  And some people were like, “Oh, is Hazel the one missing?” And, seriously.  If Hazel was missing I would have organized 17 search parties and there would have been weeping and gnashing of teeth.

No.  Hazel is not missing.  A 9 month old heifer calf and steer escaped on Saturday.  These two were new to Maliblahblah farms and a bit more on the wild side.  When they escaped, they ran for their lives away from us.  The steer wandered back home late Saturday night, but the heifer is still missing.  And she has been missing for 6 days and we have seen no sign of her.  We have left a fence panel open for her with hay and water in hopes of luring her back, but she is like totally gone.  She shall be known as The Mysterious Wild Heifer who Roams the Hills.

The second mystery has completely baffled me.

David has recently brought home a few bred cows that he purchased from auction.  Luckily, they are all pretagged, so it is easier for me to keep track of who is who.  And instead of bestowing a lovely name for the cows, I call them clever things like:

Cow R350.

Because that is what her tag reads.

Sometimes the cows he buys are a bit more on the wild side and prefer if we do not lay our eyes upon them.  You might remember Elusive with a Tag and Elusive without a Tag from last season.  Those two gals were absolutely insane, but they have since calmed down and permit you to walk near them and such without losing their ever loving minds.

Anyways.

On Monday, I happened upon cow R350 and her new calf.

Yes.  She was murdering me with her eyes.

I check on the cows at least twice a day, and I wasn’t seeing this pair.  Which isn’t super odd, because, again, she wants to kill me, so naturally, she is not a fan of making herself visible.

But then I started seeing the cow, but no calf.

And cow R350 is now hanging out with all the other cows with a placenta hanging out her back end and the biggest udder you have ever seen in your whole entire life.

It began to bother me that I never saw a calf, and it seemed like the cow was never away from the herd, presumably with her calf, so I started to search for this calf.  For hours upon hours and days upon days, trashing my knee and annoying my teenagers by FORCING them to come and look.

Mom, this is so dumb.  Gosh.

All of our calves, except cow R350’s have been tagged, so it would be obvious if we happened upon her calf-we were just looking for an untagged calf.

And then.

I found one!  But it was far away from everyone else with another cow David had recently purchased.

This cow is called: “You know that 8+ month pregnant cow David recently bought.”

Because she is also absolutely insane and I haven’t gotten close enough to read her tag number, but I do know it is mint green.

Anyways, after much observation, David and I have concluded that the untagged calf belonged to the cow known as “You know that 8+ month pregnant cow David recently bought,” and not cow R350.

David tagged this calf, so now we are back to looking for the untagged calf of cow R350.

This calf is definitely dead.  I know, I know.  Very sad and grievious.  But if it was alive, it would be drinking milk from the mother and that mother is never feeding a baby and her udder is the biggest udder any human has ever seen.

But where is the calf and its body?

Cow R350 and “You know that 8+ month pregnant cow David recently bought” hang out together with the one calf and like to murder me dead with their eyes.

And that concludes the two mysteries here at Maliblahblah farms.

***

I was watching cows and calves last night.  I know.  Shocking.

And I got this cute little video of calf 216, who was recently made a steer by David and Hadley.

If you know what I mean.

And I think you do.

(sound on)

Cracks me up.  I am going to make this little guy my new sound in class for when a timer is up.

Happy Friday!

On Saturday, I drove to the big city, as I had errands to do.  My new thing is “Audible.”  Where has this been all my life?  I was listening to the final and 70th chapter of my Gone With the Wind and yelling at SIRI for interrupting and telling me when to turn left.

Me: AHHHH!  Shush!  She really loves Rhett!  He has to stay!  Will he stay?

Even though I already know he is going to leave and not give a darn.

Since I was going to the big city and all, David asked me if I would like to pick up a dishwasher from Craigslist.  Our dishwasher broke around the end of November and we have been handwashing dishes since then.

And, yes.  Middle school boys hand wash dishes just as well as you might think they would.

David also asked me to pick up chicken wire because, GUESS WHAT!  He is finally redoing the chicken coop so chickens will actually stay in the chicken coop.

I go to the store and I see chicken wire.  They have many diverse and sundry bundles of this poultry netting, coming in different heights and lengths.

I call David so he can instruct me on what to buy.  This might surprise you, but I am not a part of the building committee over here, so I have zero clues as how to high and long and such this fence will be.

I called David, as previously mentioned, and he was kind in voice, but obviously quite distracted.

David:  Um . . . do they have . . . um 5 ft high 150 yards long?

Me:  Yeah.  They have 2 of those.  How many should I get?

David:  Um . . . . Hey!  We already went that way! Um . . . . Come here!

Me:  Hello?

David:  Yeah.  Do they have 4 feet high?

Me:  Yes.  Is that what you want me to get?

David:  Um . . .

Me:  Ok, I will just get the 5 feet high, ok?

David:  No!  Come back here!  Taylor!  I need to stack it!

Me:  Huh?

David:  My posts are 9 feet high!

He says the last statement like everyone in this entire nation already knew that when David Maliblahblah was going to rebuild his wife’s chicken coop, it was quite obvious that the posts would be 9 feet high.

Me:  Ok!  I didn’t know!  I will get a 5ft and a 4ft-how much in length?

David: Um . . . .

This sort of nonsense goes on for awhile, so naturaly, I must interrupt his distracted musings with:

DAVID!  YOU ARE DRIVING ME NUTS!

Turns out while he and the boys, plus Kate’s boyfriend, were working outside they accidentally let two older calves out and were on a hunt for them.  And the answer was 150 yards.  I see one bundle of 60inx150 yards and one 48inx150 yards so I go inside to the cashier.

Me:  Hi!  I need chicken wire.  Do I get a cart and bring it in here to pay or how shall I get it?

Friendly Cashier:  No!  I can ring you up here and then you show your receipt and the guys will load it for you.

Me:  Super.

So Friendly Cashier pulls out a gigantic binder and finds chicken wire.  It is quite apparant that she does not know how to convert inches to feet because the binder is in inches and I am talking feet.

Me:  I need 5ftx150.

Cashier:  Hmmm.  Can you point to which one?

Me:  60in by 150 yards.

Cashier:  Ok, great!  And it is in stock!

So she rings me up for both the 5ft and the 4ft, or rather the 60in and the 48 in and then the guy who is supposed to load things comes and says inventory is all messed up and they really do not have the 4ft one.  And I am just plum confused because I just saw what I needed.  I had already paid and the two young but kind helpers were not sure how to handle this situation so they told me to go back out there with Loading Guy and pick out something I needed.

Loader Guy had left a bundle up at the front and told me it was a 5ft bundle.  So we were looking for the 4ft bundle and they did not have the 150yard length one, but they did have 3 50 yard length ones and I am trying to call David and ask if that would be ok and he is still super distracted and acting like 50×3 isn’t 150.

Yet, Reader.  It is.

Loader Guy, who is probably as old as my own child, says he needs to go and will come right back.  I decided that I am smart enough to know that 50×3 is 150 and David can check my math later, so I take the bundles with my receipt and go to the front.

I see the bundle Loader Guy had left and READER.

It was the 4ftx150 yard and not the 5x150yard and he never came back and I checked my receipt and I loaded exactly what I paid for in my car and drove away.

I just really wanted to tell someone about that experience.  It was frustrating.

Thank you for listening.

When I got home, the calves were still missing so David sent us all on a search party.  A neighbor had called and said he had seen them by the marina, and that means nothing to you, but that is like three whole miles away.

So, I am taking the exact route David told me to take, but I am following HD and Kate’s beau on the 4 wheeler and what is the point of that I ask you?

So I split off from them and go the actual marina, where a neighbor had spotted them, and there was an actual live beautiful and peaceful wedding happening there.

!

Reader.

Were two calves running amok and ruining this wedding?

How rude are we?

!

We couldn’t find them.  Then a neighbor called who had a mama cow die and he needed a bottle and GUESS WHAT.

I am apparently the neighborhood guru now when it comes to bottle calves.

We have been here 11 years and I am finally contributing to my little community.

Me:  David!  Does he want me to take the calf and raise it and love it as my own?!

David:  He said he already promised it to Jess.

Me:  Ugh.  Lucky Jess.

You do not know who Jess is.  But I do.  And Jess has the calf and the calf is great and not mine, but that is ok.

I guess.

On Sunday morning, both the girls boyfriends came over at the ungodly hour of 8:30am.  Because it was cow sorting day.

We needed to seperate some cows and tag three calves and castrate one calf.

We did it and nothing of note happened.

Then we had to go to the river property to talk about things I didn’t understand at all, but look!

The river is flooding!

So now, we have to wait for it to flood more and more and then to recede and then we can camp there!

Look at this little guy enjoying a nap in the sunshine the day after David and Hadley took away his manhood.

Happy Tuesday.

Oh! One calf came back and one is still missing.

I shall keep you abreast of the situation.