Muddin'

Two days ago, my brother decided to work with our yearling calves now that the weather is finally cooperating a bit.  I didn't mind heading out to the farm for a little fresh air on what was a very nice day in town.  I figured it would be a pretty muddy, so I threw on my boots, loaded up the kids, and headed down the highway.  Muddy was an understatement. Thanks to the recent rains and the winter thaw, the cattle yards are giant soup holes.  The yearlings are rambunctious too, considering we haven't had much nice weather to speak of.  Couple this with the fact that Penguin the giant farm mutt decided to follow us down to the lower place and you can about imagine how our project started out.  Seeing the dog and a few extra warm bodies in places where they usually don't belong set the calves in a dead sprint around the yard.  Imagine the sound of thousands of suction cups taking hold and letting go as each pounding hoof bogged down into the the heavy Nebraska clay.  Now, imagine a human walking through that mud and muck with nothing more than a thin rubber boot between you and imminent disaster.  Within the first five minutes, everybody had expressed their feelings toward the land and the livestock as well as each other.  My sister-in-law was the unlucky winner of the mud lottery by being the first to lose her boot in the yard.  It was evident that man and beast were getting a run for our money that day. 

We were finally able to get the herd up in the processing pen after one bovine genius decided to wriggle its way behind the gate versus going through the gate hole.  That trick cost everybody a third trip through the yard to round up the stragglers who managed to escape. No level of training or athletic ability can prepare you for mud season on the farm.  Walking through a mile of mud is better than any workout you can get at the gym.  It might not show, but it takes a high level of aerobic and calisthenic mastery to dodge anxious 800 pound calves and keep a steady marching pace so you don't get stuck in place at a critical time.  My brother asked if we wanted to invest in a concrete plant when we got done so we could at least have a solid surface to do this kind of work.  I'm thinking he might be on to something.

Nevertheless, we prevailed, and all the calves got treated.  Nobody was physically injured, and, despite our pride, we are all well aware that any words shared under such circumstances are not to be taken personally.  The work that farmers do, particularly livestock producers, is not for the faint of heart.  It is stressful for both man and beast, it is dirty, it can be scary, and it is often thankless.  In that work lies an expectation that everyone knows their part, and they will pull their weight to make sure everything gets done.  The unpredictability of each and every situation involving livestock is what wears on a person.  It makes you lie awake at night, it makes you think quickly on your feet, and it instills a sense of danger that you don't really understand or appreciate until you have something to lose, be it your fencing, your equipment, or, heaven forbid, a life.  In spite of it all, you have to keep muddin' through to make sure you do the job for which you signed up.  I sure do enjoy my days at the farm, but it sure does make me appreciate the comforts of a nice clean real estate office after getting home from a project like that.  No matter what happens in the world of real estate, odds are, the decisions that have to be made are not life and death for man or beast.  No matter what happens, I know that I won't be in a position where I am going to lose my boot in a muddy yard.  And, no matter what happens, we usually have a little more time to figure out a solution than in the time it takes the whole herd to turn tail and bolt out of the yard because we got stuck in the mud and couldn't make it to the gate fast enough to shut it.  It's not all real estate and roses around here, but somedays you just have to keep muddin' through.  Welcome Home.