Working Cattle

This past Saturday, Dad wanted us kids to work cattle. I don't know entirely what all that involved but I knew the gist of it.

  1. Get the cattle to the barn. 
  2. Put them in the shoot.
  3. Medicate
  4. Release

Sounds simple but it took us most of the day! We worked 139 little steers! My job was to spray wormer on their backs before they got more preventative medicine.  It was fun! Of course working with family and animals is always fun to me. I love, love being on the farm. It's gorgeous and there is nothing like a little manual labor to get the blood flowing. I think it might even be good for the soul.

We were raised to work hard and to do it right. Even when we were little, Dad gave us jobs like picking up rocks in the yard of his spec homes. We never had a summer "break", we were always working. A lot of people might have thought differently of us but we knew how to work. We worked and still work for everything we have. We all have bought our own vehicles and all that goes with it. I even paid for my own college, granted I only went 2 years to a private christian college. It was still a lot of money to work for, I'm thankful I graduated debt free. I'm thankful for my parents and all that they've invested into our lives.

Which brings me to my next little story. It's humorous. We all got a good laugh out of it. I put on my old work jeans that I left in my bedroom at my parents. When I say old, I mean from 6th grade. That's 11 year old pants guys!! We originally bought them when I was in 6th grade for horse camp. It was a week long camp where we worked with one horse: mucked stalls, water, fed, brushed, saddled, wash, and rode horses. We slept in a barn and took showers with a water hose. That horse camp holds some of my favorite memories and I met some of the best people through that. (To those that went: we should have a reunion and see how everyone is now.)

Anyways, since 6th grade, I've worked in those jeans. Before we ate lunch, everything was fine, working in them with no problem. Now this is embarrassing! After lunch, I was climbing over the fence in the barn when I hear a huge rip and a breeze from the back side. Yes. I completely ripped my jeans down the crack of my rear end. ha! It was hilarious! We had to keep working, so the boys (brothers/husband/dad) had to see my bright green underroos the rest of the afternoon. They laughed and made fun of me all day.

So moral of the story: 
If you're feeling a little over weight, don't try to wear your 11 year old jeans to work in.

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