A day spent in pleasure is never a waste

The rain turned south and all the rock pile got was sprinkles all day long. My hat didn't even get wet, but I had to use the wipers as I drove around. I was working on a corner post and sweated more moisture than came down from the heavy clouds. We are still doing OK. The grass is green and the ponds do have water, but we need a good three-day soaker. Relax, I put in an order for it and I am sure the Lord listens. Wouldn't hurt if you fellers also asked for one.

I did get the corner post hole dug. I guess you can consider it a hole, but not deep enough for the intended use. We have a post hole digger on the tractor but it just doesn't work good in the dang rocks. Dynamite is what I needed, and I could use that in several places around the farm. Now I am wondering if you can even buy it around here. Probably not. I remember when we could get a bunch of stuff that made the life of a beef producer easier.

My close relative insisted on going to a county fair so, being the gallant feller I am, I did take her. I finished the barn chores, got all slicked up and we drove to the fair. The banners were flying and the carnival rides were there. We got to the ticket booth so early no one was there, so we went to the office to buy our tickets. Then we were on to the many displays of stuff for the gentler half of the family so I excused myself and made for the livestock area.

The barns were buzzing with activity, kids were thick as fleas on a hound dog's back. I will always have a soft spot for the atmosphere of a fair barn, the aroma of show products, hay, family coffee pots perking and all the other stuff! The memories run rampant of days long past when we hauled kids and heifers, steers and campers, to the county fair. The lost showmanship for one offspring and the win for another one. The glory of first-place calves and the misery of not, like the pink ribbons stored in the show box. But the pleasures outweighed all the pain!

I found some of the folks helping feed calves that were kids themselves when our offspring were showing. I watched their sprouts do the chores and love their cattle -- same way their parents did so long ago. It was sure a nice time, long visits and sitting on the show boxes, drinking coffee with a shaving or two in for flavor. My close relative showed up with a cattleman's steak sandwich and a cold drink for our lunch, and we enjoyed the meal as much as if it was a T-bone.

We got back to the rock pile in time for me to saddle Snip and make a round in the cow pasture to check the fall calving bunch. They are so slick and fat, I hope we didn't allow them to put on too much body weight. The grass has been remarkable this summer and they are eating machines. I am thankful for the herd numbers that allow us to do two calving seasons. This is sorta my favorite thing, waiting for the calves and then, this time of year, for the birthing. The offspring push hard for February calving and they don't seem to mind the cold and misery that goes with it.

I got back to the barn just at dark and put Snip up. The grands had been there and fed, so I didn't need to do anything there, except the whiny barn cats wouldn't get away from my feet, so I fed them. One of the momma cats had a big ole field mouse she was dining on, and so it appears to be a good thing to have a herd of cats around.

It is my opinion, and everybody has one, a day spent in pleasure is never a waste. I was rested, happy, mind cleared and content to be where and what I am. There is a need we all have to be content with our personal world. It doesn't matter that we don't have all the money we would like to have, all the land we think we need or the best pickup made. If we have a family, food and a shelter to call home, we should consider ourselves well off! I also like to have at least four or five old hides to push around and call mine. It is an obsession. Fellers, I hope you all fall into the best of the best category for your place, enjoy life even when you are broke, dead tired and hungry because I have heard we just get one shot; this life is not renewable!

Bill is the pen name used by the Gravette area author of this weekly column. Opinions expressed are those of the author.