The world kept on turning, I guess. I didn't feel a thing, but my close relative said it was time to rise and shine!
I fished until 3 a.m. and was having so much enjoyment I just wanted to keep on. Now is the time to pay for my silly act and get up to face the day. I'd rather not!
Eggs and whatever that meat was filled the spot, and I didn't even taste it. When I was a young man, I didn't have any trouble staying up all night and working the next day. Not so now; I am sort of moving in a fog. The boys helped me clean the fish and bag them for freezing so I could get the day going as planned. Oh, I needed lots of help and was certainly proud of them!
I am horseback now and in the steer pasture. I will gather the steers and am supposed to cull the low end, but here is the rub. Can I tell the low end of the bunch today? I am getting more awake as I ride toward the herd, and I know I need to jerk myself up and act grown-up or just quit! Okay, I am awake, but which horse am I riding? Shoot! Was the fishing worth this?
We were waiting for the dew to dry on the grass before heading to the hay field and so the steer culling was done in the space. The hay season was already behind due to the nice and needed rain. We can start in the middle of May usually; the equipment has been ready for a while as the boys polished it off during the rainy days. The grass is tall and ready and looks like good hay.
I culled seven steers; only seven of them looked small compared to the rest. Then we looked at the records and realized they were the calves from the clean-up bulls. I decided to put them back in for another month! They will catch up, and they look structure-wise pretty good. The help sort of agreed, but they always seem to have opinions!
We hit the hay field at about eleven this morning, and I was wide awake but in pain! I did not complain out loud, as they, the help, were just waiting for an excuse to ride me hard! The joking is okay if I deserve it and can take it, but not this morning. I was thankful to go back to headquarters and move the steers to the correct pasture by pickup.
I knew we would be eating lunch in shifts, so I hit the house for a bite of something I could taste. I knew there would be pie ready and waiting. The close relative was cleaning house and the whole place was sorta undone! She fixed my plate, sandwich and chips, and a glass of iced tea was handed and I was directed to go to the outdoor table. The cleaning went on, and she didn't show up for my company, so I guess the next time I fish, I will come in earlier!
We got a load of sacked feed Saturday, and I stacked it and cleaned up the granary. The half-grown cats seemed to be interested in the activity, so maybe they will move into the new mousey place to protect the grain. I almost would put a mouse-free fence around the multi-dollar sacks because of the jump in the cost. I figure on never getting rich producing beef!
The lessons today are painful to some of us. The boys are all wearing that silly smirk, and I am learning not to overdo my body, not ever again! Besides the pain I am experiencing, there is that silent treatment at the house! Maybe the vacuum of complete silence was needed for healing.
We enjoyed the grandkids this last weekend. They removed a tree for us that was threatening to fall into the house and we ate a ton of the cookies and pies! The smaller one worked with the tall ones. They are a joy to us, my close relative and me. We are surely blessed!
I cleaned my rifle because it is squirrel season, and I might get to roam the woods around the place. Sure as shooting, we love squirrel and dumplings! You fellers are welcome to come help me thin out things in the walnut woods!
Keep praying for the country fighting for its life and all the hungry children in the world. Clean your guns and apply the oil that is needed to prevent rust. Buy some new corks for cane poles for the kids and wives, and come in at a respectable hour when you go by yourself!
Remember the Alamo!
Bill is the pen name used by the Gravette-area author of this weekly column. Opinions expressed are those of the author.