Recap for the Townies.
Introductions out of the way.
I've been home for a week and three days.
My dad is in old-man prison in Chillicothe. So I'm home to farm. And to maybe to raise a little cain, but that's second to not killing the herd.
The location is 16169 Old Mansfield Rd, F'town. It's three houses on some number of acres (in the low hundreds). Two families live in these three houses. We'll call it all the homestead, or Tara.
The cast of characters includes my mother, my aunt, my uncle, my cousin, my brother, my sister, my nana, my dingo (dog), 200 bovine shit machines, and four orange cats.
My vehicles are a honda, a small toyota SUV with 4-wheel drive for my mom, a beat-to-hell farm truck (6-7 mpg), my nissan, a 3-wheeler, and three john-deere tractors.
My good friend from high school still lives here. He has a name more usually given to a dog, Rusty.
Life as I knew it is over. People tell me I'm doing the good, the honorable thing by coming home to be here. Don't believe them. I couldn't not come home. It was no decision, it's just the way it is. When this is all said and done we will probably lose the farm to the bank to pay off some low-life rednecks. It is then that I return to the city and to advertising. You already wouldn't recognize me. I wear carharts, trucker hats, and shit kickers like I was born to. Not that farming is coming naturally to me, it certainly isn't. I'm ok when things are up and running, but I don't know where to go to fix things.
Here's a list of how things stand as of now:
My older brother is re-enlisting in the Air Force. Making him wholly unavailable to pester me.
My younger sister is attending the U of Toledo. She's the bible-banger.
My cousin is attending Oxford (the real one) to get a bigger degree. He'll be home to help.
My mom had a hysterectomy yesterday. Making her effectively a vegtable for the next month plus.
My aunt is a guidance counselor at a nearby scary-backwoods high school where I might find employment.
My uncle is handy and drives buses sometimes.
I am responsible for feeding the beefs, keeping things running generally, getting the silage set up to feed, taking care of pink-eye, fixing trailers, taking the steers to the producers, selling more steers, keeping water lines unfrozen, cutting wood, cutting brush, not losing appendages and not getting shot.
the beefs go like this:
Male with testicles - Bull
Female who has had a calf - Cow
Male with no testicles - Steer
Female unbred - Heifer
Steers and Heifers together - The Calves
Now that I've started, I shall try to post all regular like with pictures and such.
I've been home for a week and three days.
My dad is in old-man prison in Chillicothe. So I'm home to farm. And to maybe to raise a little cain, but that's second to not killing the herd.
The location is 16169 Old Mansfield Rd, F'town. It's three houses on some number of acres (in the low hundreds). Two families live in these three houses. We'll call it all the homestead, or Tara.
The cast of characters includes my mother, my aunt, my uncle, my cousin, my brother, my sister, my nana, my dingo (dog), 200 bovine shit machines, and four orange cats.
My vehicles are a honda, a small toyota SUV with 4-wheel drive for my mom, a beat-to-hell farm truck (6-7 mpg), my nissan, a 3-wheeler, and three john-deere tractors.
My good friend from high school still lives here. He has a name more usually given to a dog, Rusty.
Life as I knew it is over. People tell me I'm doing the good, the honorable thing by coming home to be here. Don't believe them. I couldn't not come home. It was no decision, it's just the way it is. When this is all said and done we will probably lose the farm to the bank to pay off some low-life rednecks. It is then that I return to the city and to advertising. You already wouldn't recognize me. I wear carharts, trucker hats, and shit kickers like I was born to. Not that farming is coming naturally to me, it certainly isn't. I'm ok when things are up and running, but I don't know where to go to fix things.
Here's a list of how things stand as of now:
My older brother is re-enlisting in the Air Force. Making him wholly unavailable to pester me.
My younger sister is attending the U of Toledo. She's the bible-banger.
My cousin is attending Oxford (the real one) to get a bigger degree. He'll be home to help.
My mom had a hysterectomy yesterday. Making her effectively a vegtable for the next month plus.
My aunt is a guidance counselor at a nearby scary-backwoods high school where I might find employment.
My uncle is handy and drives buses sometimes.
I am responsible for feeding the beefs, keeping things running generally, getting the silage set up to feed, taking care of pink-eye, fixing trailers, taking the steers to the producers, selling more steers, keeping water lines unfrozen, cutting wood, cutting brush, not losing appendages and not getting shot.
the beefs go like this:
Male with testicles - Bull
Female who has had a calf - Cow
Male with no testicles - Steer
Female unbred - Heifer
Steers and Heifers together - The Calves
Now that I've started, I shall try to post all regular like with pictures and such.
posted by Lord of the Barnyard at 9:35 AM
3 Comments:
...The chores.
...The stores.
...Fresh air.
...Times Square
You have opened my eyes to all things bovine. And one day, when you have tucked in the calves and the Mom, and can run away from the fields and barns, I'm a Greyhound away.
xoxox
one day i too will write all eloquent like.
i hate that my picture insists on appearing in the comments too.
i like it just fine.
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