a day in the life of...

January 2010
Nine a.m.

It’s is time to feed the five thousand... not quite five thousand but it does feel like it sometimes. I feed our two dogs, our two cats, two horses and two donkeys, twelve to fifteen cows depending upon how many calves we have, and the ducks on the pond when I drive by. The weather has been unusually cold since the week before Christmas. Major snowfalls, ice, below freezing temperatures every day... this makes feeding the stock more difficult. So I gird my loins. I always loved that phrase in the Bible. It felt naughty, like looking at the underwear ads in the Sears and Roebuck catalogue. The first layer is my long handles followed by a lightweight sweatsuit. Then I climb into my insulated Carrhart jumpsuit and zip up. My wool socks fit nicely in the rubber muck boots and the wool cap pulls down over my ears. If the wind is really bad, I put the hood up on my Carrhart suit. I put on my Sherpa gloves and I am ready to face the outdoors. Of course I look and feel like a sumo wrestler and move with the same deliberative grace.
First I give the chickens some water. The outside faucet is frozen so I am hauling water to the chickens and the horses. The chickens are easier. One gallon does for them but horses take five or six five gallon buckets a day. Then it is on to the stable. Since the weather has been so bad, the horses are spending more time in the stalls which equals more poop to haul out. A normal days haul is one wagon load. These past few weeks I have been hauling three to six loads a day. After feeding Bud the Barn Cat, I spread hay for the horses and put out the protein block. I make a half hearted attempt to rake up the stable pad but my heart is not in it. It is too cold and the wind is vicious.
On to the cows... The mule is an open air method of transportation. On the really bad days I drive the old Mazda MPV. It will hold four bales of hay in the back and is a refuge from the wind plus it has a HEATER. I feed them four bales of hay, morning and evening, sweet feed and some alfalfa cubes for nutrition and variety. In the evening, they meet me at the barn right on schedule, five o’clock sharp. In the morning, they eat out in the field. It is easier to check them out when I can see all of them at the same time. Buttercup and Ferdinand are getting a little extra feed. They are old and bony, not enough fat for the winter insulation they need. So I put a bucket of sweet feed on the floorboard of the mule and Buttercup sticks her head in and eats away. This helps keep the other cows from horning in (did you get that pun, Thad?)while she eats.
Someone asked me why I feed them twice a day. Why not just put out enough in the morning and leave it be? Two reasons... One, my daddy always checked on the cows and fed the twice a day. Two, I now know why he fed and checked on them twice a day. If something goes wrong, the sooner you catch it, the better. One bitter cold night a few years ago, I found a yearling who had wrapped a cable around his leg, cutting off circulation. With the neighbors help, we were able to free him. If I had not found him until the next morning, he could have been dead or lost his leg.
This week Annie has been sick. Eyes stuck shut with oozy stuff, bad runny nose and wheezing, diarrhea like you wouldn’t believe... She was so weak that when she fell in the field, I wasn’t sure she would be able to get up. Off I went to Tractor Supply, my home away from home, to buy some Tetracycline. Now she gets meds twice a day for four days and I am giving Buttercup a preventative dose since she has had a touch of this, too. Each gets a bucket with a little sweet feed and a lot of those huge cow sized yellow pills. They eat it all up. Some farmers use a spring loaded gun to shoot the pills down their throats but I prefer to just feed it to them. Every mother knows the applesauce method for medicine. It works for cows, too.
Sometimes Mama needs me to feed the barn cats. With ice on the road, walking down to the barn could be hazardous for her so if I am needed, I finish up the morning round feeding barn kitties. Currently there are seven barn cats, four that came from mama’s South Georgia farm stock and three strays. One of the strays, an old orange and white tom cat, was here when we came. He is old as Methuselah and nearly tame now that mama has been working with him.
I drive back to the house, disengage from my heavy duty layers of clothing and take stock. It is now 10:45 or 11:00 and the rest of my day awaits. Today I will clean house to get ready for company tomorrow, wash clothes, continue taking down Christmas, file H.O.’s last insurance claim for medicines, and then at five o’clock, it all starts over again.
None of these jobs comes with a paycheck or a retirement plan. They do come with relationships, however. Buttercup lets me scratch her ears. Annie is looking better. The horses come when I whistle, now. They know it is the signal to come home for supper. Bud the Barn Cat always has some interesting conversation when he eats his meals. My hands look and feel like a Brillo pad but my upper body strength is pretty good from throwing hay bales. Most of all, I am practicing endurance, the virtue that keeps you going when the going is tough.
And if Saint Paul was right, endurance will end up in hope. I sure could use an extra dose of that this winter. Hope for new life and light yet to come... Hope for spring after winter’s dark night... Hope for those I love who are struggling... Hope for the new year that stretches out before me with unknown joys and sorrows. Oh, Lord, keep my feet moving and do not let me freeze up in the cold blast of winter’s winds. Keep my soul warm and supple. May my ears be inclined towards you and my voice be raised in joyful song. And when I complain about the dammed cold weather, ignore me, Lord. I get crabby in the dark cold wintertime. I forget all my blessings of warmth, shelter, food, animal friends, human companionship and the light. Your grace is sufficient for my day today and for all my days yet to come. Thank you.