Chore time

There’s just something to be said about chore time. The time when we both get to be done with our “work” days and meet in the middle. I get to put on my comfy farm clothes and throw my hair up in a messy bun. (Who we kidding… that’s the official sponsor of moms everywhere)…I slip in to my handy farm boots and we walk to the truck hand in hand discussing what needs done tonight. Lately it’s been all calves for us so building temporary pens and fence has been a priority. I don’t have much experience with the calving part from my first marriage with exception of a few bottle calves here and there. This time around I’m learning everything I can. Max and Ruby re-opened the door to my interest and I’ve jumped in head over hooves.

This week I’ve dug post holes with our loader tractor, fed round bales, learned how to tube a pill, build calf pens and start logging and tagging our herd. Funny that I’m just now learning all these things at my “age”.

Chore time for us also consists of a LOT of laughing. Whether it be at each other, the animals or just the farm in general we always make our time together fun. What’s the point of having someone to help if it’s considered a “CHORE”? The radio is always playing in our barns so an occasional slow dance or “drop it like it’s hot” move is bound to happen. I love looking across the barn to catch him looking at me. And I love to catch him off guard when he catches me looking at him. And I know he loves watching me with our babies… tonight as we bottle fed our 11 babes he slid a bale of straw from pen to pen for me to sit on as I fed and talked to them because he knows my knee will be sore. And that to me… isn’t a chore. It’s love. 🐄