Hard at Work

My readers are really funny people, and, as it turns out, a tad impatient… Here’s the email I received this morning from someone named Charlie:

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Okay, okay! Here I am, with another post. Moral of the story: Harassment works!

I’ve not been posting because LOTS has been going on, culminating in Melissa having surgery the day before Thanksgiving. She’s fine—no worries there—but she can’t be active or lift more than 10 pounds for the next two weeks, leaving yours truly in charge. I was joking with friends that I might have to chain her to the living room sofa to keep her quiet and non-active. I was joking, but it turns out I might have to do just that.

The day after surgery (Thanksgiving Day—hope everyone had a nice one, by the way!) I went up to the big barn to feed and water the sheep, thinking I’d left Melissa resting quietly in the house. But then she took the dogs out the back door to play for a few minutes. Then, back inside, she went out the front door and wandered into the little barn, where she moved some lumber to fix a problem I was having with the steer-feeding set up. I caught her there, red-handed, about to start another little project to make life easier for me.

I marched her back inside, sat her down, gave her the lecture of her life. While I appreciate that she wants to help me, being active too soon, overdoing it, then bleeding internally or having her insides head for the nearest exit…this was not going to help me at all. Oh. She hadn’t thought of that.

I made a new rule: For the next four days, she is not to step one foot out the front door. The back door leads to a fenced area, so she can hang out there with the dogs if she needs to go outside and walk around a bit. Okay, fine, she said. But Jenny was coming over and Melissa wanted to show her some cool rocks she’d gathered, three huge buckets full. She could go out the front door for that, right?

We went over the rule again, more slowly this time, and the Farmer now understands she will be in serious trouble if she steps outside the front door.

Meanwhile, I’m trying to find my grove. Farms always have transition times as they move from season to season, and we’re in the middle of our fall to winter transition. The lambs, who need to eat some corn for energy against the cold, and to help them grown, don’t know what corn is. It’ll be my job to teach them that. We’re working out the kinks as we house our four steer in the little barn, and learn how to feed corn without being killed by excited cows.

So I’m sure, Charlie, I’ll have plenty to blog about in the next two weeks. I may not have the energy, however.

Maybe I can persuade the Farmer to be a guest blogger! Then you guys can help keep her out of trouble for an hour or two.