At Home on the Range: It ain’t over till it’s over |

At Home on the Range: It ain’t over till it’s over

by Jody White

Elsmere, Neb.

Do I dare say that we are on the downside of calving?

It feels that way, but I’m afraid to actually voice it. The heifers are calved out and the cows are well on their way to being there. The weather has held, and we have had very little sickness; probably due to the fact that the weather has been so good, knock on wood.

Not that I’m superstitious or anything, but it couldn’t hurt! Have you ever noticed that the minute you mouth the words, “Yeah, things have gone pretty good,” they go to you know where in a handbasket! So you can see why I’m reluctant to even think such thoughts much less say them outright! So I’ll just tiptoe around them.

But the point is … I’m ready for calving to be OVER. Can you relate?

Even if the calving has gone good, I’m tired of my life being out of control and on the edge of chaos. Men don’t seem to be bothered by a little clutter, a little dirt, a little chaos. Us women on the other hand reach a breaking point. And I think I’m there! No, actually I think I’m well beyond there. I can tell because I’m past the point of caring. Nothing seems to bother me anymore. Nothing!

When Butch complains that he doesn’t have any clean Levis? I just motion him over to the huge mountain of laundry and say, “Just pick out the cleanest dirty pair you can find.” And I don’t even feel any guilt. Can you believe that? The house has gotten knee deep in unread newspapers, magazines and mail, along with a coat on this chair, a jacket on that chair and gloves everywhere. My refrigerator holds nothing really appealing or even edible ” unless maybe you’re a calf into electrolytes or colostrum. And that’s if you can even get to the kitchen, because you have to go through the porch to get there. And anyone who can run that gauntlet, with all the boots, overshoes and assorted vet paraphernalia scattered every which way, without killing themselves, deserves a medal! And me?

Well I’m on my last nerve, and last ounce of energy. I don’t even bother to put makeup on anymore. I wear a cap continually in order not to have to deal with the hair issue. And I have started tracking in my share of dirt, mud and manure into the house right along with the guys. But I absolutely know for certain it’s time for calving to be over when I have no qualms about meeting anyone at the front door looking like Typhoid Mary with an attitude. I’m sure they leave feeling just a little sorry for poor old Butch. And pity any telemarketer that calls this time of year.

It’s time I tell ya! It’s absolutely, unequivocally time for calving to be over!

But do you want to know what my husband had the nerve to tell me just now?

“Honey, it ain’t over till it’s over!”



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