In From Chores

Life is a series of contrasts.  A little while ago I was in a freezing cold dark hay mow forking down big chunks of hay to the sheep and goats.  Now I'm in a little apartment, brightly lit and sizzling hot from an oversized wood stove.  Took me 90 minutes tonight - that's about normal.  Everybody fed and happy.  Well,  I'm sure they'd like more but that's normal, too.  It's very cold tonight, but once I get going I often have to take my hat and jacket off.  I like a wool sweater and vest better.  Wonderful how wool insulates you yet let's you breathe.  I fixed a pot of boiled chicken and potatoes on the stove before I went out.  Smart move. It was fantastic when I finally got to it.  I shared it with the doggies and poured the soup over their dry kibble.  My friend at work, Sharon, gives me left over food for my chickens.  This week she gave me a sack of potatoes.  Never got to the chickens as I've been eating it all week.  I know she wouldn't mind.  I'm used to working with the round bales now.  I was worried at first but like them now.  Once tipped over on the side I can pull big layers of hay off them and flip it down the hole to the bins.  The goaties like to get up in the hay feeders and the hay falls on top of them.  I wince thinking about all  I'll have to pull out of the mohair but I understand why they do it.  They can't wiggle in between the big, fat sheep so they get on top.  Smart goaties.   I like chores.  Sure they cut a big dent into my day, but in a good way.  I never have time to sit around and pout.   All the forking and toting of water and feed is good exercise.  I see what has happened to some of the women my age at work and I think YUCK, not me.   Makes me want to go out and climb more ladders.  I found out today that my shepherd friend, Kathy, in Pa., fell out of the hay mow, broke her leg and tore some tendons recently.  Very scary.  I would be in deep doo-doo.   I go slow and hold on tight going up and down.  The toes that Lilly crushed are going to need surgery.  They are slowly curling under and giving me fits.  I'm too proud to ask for time off for surgery during the school year.  We are terribly short staffed as it is.  Besides, I have to stoke the wood stove and get ready for the sheep shows.  Will have to wait for summer.  Maybe Lukie will come and help me on the farm when I do get them fixed.  He wants to come on February break for sledding.  With the storm forecast for this weekend, we just might have enough snow.  The doggies are telling me it's time for their night-night walk.  Walking Cooper is a Herculean task.  He is largely untrained and I can only imagine the time he must have spent alone in a crate in an empty room. Breaks my heart.  I'm thankful they brought him back to me, but annoyed he was allowed to get this way.  Cooper is a wild child that will take ions of patience to socialize.  He's very strong and requires both hands to hold on to with a choke chain on.  He pulled me up a bank after I got home from work, and wouldn't you now it, I stepped in a fence post hole and fell flat on my face.  Luckily I still had the leash.  Cooper is very affectionate, but will knock my glasses off while jumping up and giving me a big wet kiss.  He and Bertha play constantly, but I think Bertha gets tired of Cooper's constant harrassment.  He will grab her by her big jowls and drag her around.  Bertha is too sweet to reallly give him a dressing down, but Reba will.  One loud snarl and slap of the paw and Cooper is on his back.