I am sitting here wondering what normal families do on Sunday afternoon. I am parked under a mulberry tree in a pickup with three of my children. The AC is on because the feedlot across the road is teeming with flies. Leo has turned on the wipers and the left turn signal, and has adjusted the rear view mirror so I can use it to see out the passenger side window. This is exciting for him because while he likes to adjust knobs and levers, usually the vehicle is not running and nothing happens. I kind of wish he would wash the windshield.

Grandpa Daddy is off on the four wheeler with one of the ladies trying to find a sick calf. We have five sick calves in this pasture, and we have been doctoring them today. Some of them have pneumonia, and the others have what my BIL calls a navel infection, which has something to do with their leg joints. He said the prognosis is not good. I will call the vet tomorrow for a second opinion.  Cow pills are big, really big. Put your first two fingers together, and you have the size and shape of a cow pill pretty well, except the pill is probably bigger. These little guys are getting a broken up sulfa pill and two shots of penicillin.  We have had lousy luck this year with the cattle.

I grew up with working horses, GD grew up with pet horses and working four-wheelers. Every time he needs to catch a critter out in the pasture he cusses the folks that put the throttle of a four-wheeler on the right hand, or roping, side of the rig. Obviously 4X4s weren’t built with roping in mind, else they would have something better than the gas cap to dally, or wrap the rope around, when you catch your critter. Since he doesn’t rope anything big he doesn’t dally, he just climbs off the 4X4 and gets drug around until the calf stops. Where I come from they would derisively call that “farmer style.” He rides around fishing for the calves with the rope in his left hand. This works best when they are asleep. His signature move involves kind of a steer wrestling tackle from the moving 4X4. Too bad I forgot the camera. GD claims his 4X4 is superior to working cattle horseback. I think he must have had some lousy horses over the years, because what he does looks like a lot more work than what I grew up doing. I can’t rope at all, so I don’t say much.

I am disgusted with myself for forgetting the camera, The flowers are out, I have seen upright prairieconeflower and some slimflower scurf peas I could have snapped photos of. Tomorrow I need to go to the local prairie and see what is blooming. I could surely find a better time of day for taking photos than 2:00 pm. I am also a little disgusted for not thinking about what I was wearing when I agreed to do this. Shorts and sandals are not appropriate attire for hiking in the pasture.

The excursion took about five hours starting with a trip to the shop to fix a tractor tire, then purchasing penicillin and gummy worms (at the same store no less). All in all, three kids got naps and GD found all the sick babies and doctored them.

What do normal families do on Sunday afternoons?

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