Lessons Learned
I'm still pretty new at this mom game, so I'm always learning something new every day. I finally broke down and got a stroller this week. I thought since we live so far out of town, that a stroller wasn't really necessary. It's not like I'm at the mall or the grocery store or places with paved roads every day. But after lugging Rhett around in his car seat, I decided it was time. The other day I was at Target with the new stroller, and was about to use it for the second time. I unloaded it from the back of the pickup and had it ready to go. Then I turned around to get Rhett out of the pickup, and when I went to put Rhett in the stroller ... the stroller was gone! I thought for a second, didn't I put the stroller right here? I started looking down the parking lot, and sure enough... there was the stroller, just cruising along. Luckily a nice lady stopped it and started bringing it back to me. Note to self: set brakes on stroller.
Yesterday I learned that sometimes good intentions really aren't a good idea. Rich is still busy with calving, although they are on the downhill slide and getting closer to being done. I was home with Rhett and when I looked out the living room window I saw a bull wandering through the yard. We may live on a farm, but barnyard animals don't belong in the front yard. He was making his way back toward the other bulls (where he was supposed to be). I was worried that he would try and go through a fence, or that the other bulls would try and get through the fence to join him. I thought I could quick run down to the gate, open it, put the bull back in and then get the gate closed. I knew I could do all of these things, except for getting the gate closed. Minor details, right? I thought that maybe with adrenaline and knowing that in this situation there wasn't someone else to do it, that I could actually get it closed by myself. I tried to call Rich at the calving barn to see what he thought I should do, but he wasn't there. So after a few minutes, I convinced myself it was a good idea to put the bull in myself. I was about to workout, so I was wearing yoga pants... which as everyone knows, is prime farm gear. I threw an old down coat on, my Bogs and headed out the door. Rhett was napping and I knew I wouldn't be gone long or very far away. I started walking towards the bull and he was right where I wanted him: by the gate! I got the gate open, and then I knew my task was to keep the other bulls from getting out and the stray bull in. I kept my distance from the bull that was out, yet was keeping close enough to the gate so that the others didn't decide they wanted to escape as well. My plan quickly foiled as the dumb yearling bull decided to wander away from the gate and no where near going in. At this point I started to panic, because deep down I knew I couldn't close that gate. But I did everything Rich always tells me to do with these type of gates and I kept telling myself, "you workout almost every day, use your muscles!" At one point I had my yoga-clad leg wrapped around the wood post trying to get as much leverage as possible to get this gate closed. It wasn't happening. I started to freak out because I didn't want to leave Rhett much longer in the house, yet I had a huge gate open and at least 15 bulls looking at me (not to mention all the other bulls that would soon realize their buddies were on the lam). I ran to the shop and started frantically dialing the number for the calving barn (which is 6 miles from our house). No answer. Of course. I was looking out the window of the shop, expecting to see a herd of bulls wandering out of the gate... but they weren't. I kept dialing. No answer. I didn't know what else to do at that point, so I ran to the house (which is the most I've ran in two years). I started calling the barn again, no answer. A few minutes later I saw Rich driving down the road! He must have sensed I did something stupid and came home. I went outside so I could meet him in the driveway and send him in the direction of the bulls as soon as possible. By this time, the rouge bull had put himself back in, and the other bulls hadn't escaped. Phew!
I then realized that my leg hurt a little. Upon further inspection, I saw I had slivers in my calf from the wood post. I got the tweezers and started pulling out the slivers. I started to pull on one, and it really hurt... then I realized I had grabbed a hair follicle and not a sliver.
Moral of the story: don't leave the house.
Yesterday I learned that sometimes good intentions really aren't a good idea. Rich is still busy with calving, although they are on the downhill slide and getting closer to being done. I was home with Rhett and when I looked out the living room window I saw a bull wandering through the yard. We may live on a farm, but barnyard animals don't belong in the front yard. He was making his way back toward the other bulls (where he was supposed to be). I was worried that he would try and go through a fence, or that the other bulls would try and get through the fence to join him. I thought I could quick run down to the gate, open it, put the bull back in and then get the gate closed. I knew I could do all of these things, except for getting the gate closed. Minor details, right? I thought that maybe with adrenaline and knowing that in this situation there wasn't someone else to do it, that I could actually get it closed by myself. I tried to call Rich at the calving barn to see what he thought I should do, but he wasn't there. So after a few minutes, I convinced myself it was a good idea to put the bull in myself. I was about to workout, so I was wearing yoga pants... which as everyone knows, is prime farm gear. I threw an old down coat on, my Bogs and headed out the door. Rhett was napping and I knew I wouldn't be gone long or very far away. I started walking towards the bull and he was right where I wanted him: by the gate! I got the gate open, and then I knew my task was to keep the other bulls from getting out and the stray bull in. I kept my distance from the bull that was out, yet was keeping close enough to the gate so that the others didn't decide they wanted to escape as well. My plan quickly foiled as the dumb yearling bull decided to wander away from the gate and no where near going in. At this point I started to panic, because deep down I knew I couldn't close that gate. But I did everything Rich always tells me to do with these type of gates and I kept telling myself, "you workout almost every day, use your muscles!" At one point I had my yoga-clad leg wrapped around the wood post trying to get as much leverage as possible to get this gate closed. It wasn't happening. I started to freak out because I didn't want to leave Rhett much longer in the house, yet I had a huge gate open and at least 15 bulls looking at me (not to mention all the other bulls that would soon realize their buddies were on the lam). I ran to the shop and started frantically dialing the number for the calving barn (which is 6 miles from our house). No answer. Of course. I was looking out the window of the shop, expecting to see a herd of bulls wandering out of the gate... but they weren't. I kept dialing. No answer. I didn't know what else to do at that point, so I ran to the house (which is the most I've ran in two years). I started calling the barn again, no answer. A few minutes later I saw Rich driving down the road! He must have sensed I did something stupid and came home. I went outside so I could meet him in the driveway and send him in the direction of the bulls as soon as possible. By this time, the rouge bull had put himself back in, and the other bulls hadn't escaped. Phew!
I then realized that my leg hurt a little. Upon further inspection, I saw I had slivers in my calf from the wood post. I got the tweezers and started pulling out the slivers. I started to pull on one, and it really hurt... then I realized I had grabbed a hair follicle and not a sliver.
Moral of the story: don't leave the house.
Comments
Post a Comment