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Earning my keep

I earned my keep this morning.

And my hands are still shaking from it.

The wind warned me while I laid warm in bed that the day was probably NOT going to go my way. But the animals still need to eat. So I diligently obeyed.

After making bottles for my little devils (aka bottle calves) I headed out to let out our fleet of dogs from their pen. Before even taking three steps I realized that all was not right because there was a chicken under my feet.

Side note: We put the chickens up every night and they prowl around their own house and yard until about mid-afternoon when we let them out to explore the farm and (most importantly) put the dogs in their pen for the night (sans chicken dinner).

Somebody forgot to pen up the chickens last night. So this morning I had dogs running around, happy for their freedom, and super excited about chasing the flying snacks about the yard. Only by the grace of God was I able to re-pen the dogs and take to the task of herding my chickens back into their yard.

Now chickens are very quick and very dumb all at the same time. Bad combo. But the majority was quickly coerced back inside with only a few morons left running around outside unable to find the giant open gate or obviously propped open door. After attempting to herd the unherdable, winged morons creatures for what felt like an eternity, I was successful. By accident.

And I continued on with the chores annoyed and winded (yes, I’m that out of shape).

The entire time I had been chasing dogs and chickens, the devils provided background music, reminding me over and over (very loudly) how hungry they were and how stupid and unsuited I was (am).

They punished me by pulling the bottles INTO the goat/calf pen off the nifty hangers Matt bought me (to save me from going inside the pens — read why here). GREAT! I braved the hungry creatures, milk replacer flying as I kicked and swatted them away from the fallen bottle. I squared one away with a bottle, wrestled the other two away from him and eventually (an embarrassing amount of time later) got the other two fed.

But I had left the gate open. The goats were out.

And as I started to run to get them back inside, the devils finished their bottles and went looking for more from me. Their surrogate. The following minutes including lots of yelling (by me), shooing three creatures away from the gate while trying to entice the other three to come inside and all the time being bitten and butted by the devils. In the end, I was the only casualty with a goat horn to my back side. And my pride. Always my pride.

So here I sit (apparently where I belong), typing on a keyboard while the animals mock me outside. Looks like it’s going to be raining  during the next round of chores tonight. Great. Ridiculousness to be continued.

Categories: Life on the farm


My name is Ginia Oehlschlager and I'm a small-town gal from Missouri. Join me as I document my crazy life on the farm with my husband and four kids. I'm always looking for frugal, simple ways to live the life God set before me. Where faith, family and fun come together on the farm.

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