City Girl turned Country

For all my readers around the world who thought life in China and life on the ship to be so exciting... here's proof that I can make ANYTHING exciting!  You will now be reading about cleaning out the cow barn...  :D

It was deep, 1.5 feet approximately.  I looked at that gooey mess and wondered how it would be possible to not get stuck in it!  

I was attempting to muck out the barn.  (A phrase that Ben didn't even know!  One up for the city girl! :))  I only recently learned to drive the little skid loader and I figured this would be a great project to hopefully get my hands/feet/levers/foot pedals coordination down!

  

No worries!  Ben assured me that if I got stuck, all I had to do was use the bucket/tines to push my front end up and then shove the skid backwards and just like that I would be unstuck!  He explained the general rules and we sent the big Holstein ol' Bessies outside (this was the open doorway I was piling all the you-can-imagine-what-was-on-the-floor-of-the-barn stuff right outside - so unfortunately there wasn't anything except the fear of the skid that was keeping the cows outside).

If you've ever been in a skid loader before you'll know how a steep little hill makes it feel like you're going to tip over.  (And I had to drive up it and through to the other end of the barn where I was dumping everything.)  The thought that came into my mind which was somewhat a consolation was, This deep in manure... it'll be a soft landing!  Well I made it up the first bit and then had to go back and forth dumping bits of hay-and-dry-manure-clumps into my tracks to keep the tires from spinning out since I was having a hard time making forward progress.  Finally I made it almost through the worst of it when I got STUCK - in the middle of the barn.  No worries, right?  I tried every technique I could think of and even Ben's no-fail method was to no avail.  Finally, frustration and determination found me climbing over the top of the skid loader trying to figure out a way to get out without getting my boots too filthy (forget that) and without being attacked by the roosters.

Oh yes, the roosters.  

There is something you must know about the Sahlstrom Family Farm.  There are currently these roosters.  Not just any roosters, these are MEAN cocks with a sickly crow.  Scrawny as, they live to fight like Roman gladiators; the worst ones pecked half-featherless - ugh!  I am not sure how they are still alive actually, because no one likes them, but they are too tough to eat and too entertaining to get rid of!  Being chased by one of them is a nightmare for a little kid - Simeon once clambered up on top of the grill and was banging on the window in a desperate attempt to evade one (as the crazed thing jumped and squawked around his hanging feet).  In my mind making little kids scared = it should not be around.  I even mentioned I should walk out there with an ax and in the event of an attack I would swing it round and round yelling, "Off with his head!"  Johann, the 2-year-old, must have heard this (whoops!) because today at lunch he was chopping imaginary rooster heads as he declared, "I not scared!  I have big sword and I KILL THEM!!!"  The worst part about these roosters is they go about their own business like they didn't even notice you and wait to attack until you have turned your back!  The instant you're not looking, they lunge at you!

Well I made it out past the roosters (whew!) to my phone to call Ben and my wonderful husband eventually got the skid unstuck all the while shaking his head because I would be the one to be able to get it stuck on my first time, in the first 20 minutes no less!  I got some area cleared uneventfully.  

And then the cows.

I drank a glass of milk right before I started so I would remember why I was doing this.  Unfortunately,   even my huge love for milk did not lend me very much patience when those lumbering beasts decided it was time to come back in.  Through the huge pile of manure that I was piling right outside the door.  Into the barn and slipping and sliding around on the slick, now mostly-cleared, cement floor.  I don't know if it was too hot outside or if it was the flies or if they just wanted to be difficult, but I wasn't intimidating enough - hardly.  Just enough so that they ran around in circles on the slippery barn floor like they were possessed and I was pretty sure one of them was going to fall and break a leg.

It wasn't so much that I minded the extra work and time of shutting off the skid loader and getting out to chase down the cows, as much as it was that I did not, for any reason, want to leave my protective metal cage, making myself vulnerable to those horrid fowl.

So there I was, little me, in the middle of the barn, standing with pitch fork in hand as my only defense between two ornery-looking cows (who did NOT want to go outside) about to barrel me over to get to the grain, and the angry roosters threatening me with the one-eyed look and just daring me to try to get past them out my only exit on the other side!  The cows were much bigger, but honestly, I was more scared of the roosters... until the cow started moving around her hind quarters to face me and I remembered that she kicks!  In a split second I had already envisioned myself getting hoofed in the stomach and the wind knocked out of me, laying flat on my back in six inches of manure, unable to move or call for help or in any way fend off the roosters descending like vultures to peck away at my almost dead carcass.  Maybe I poked her a little harder with the pitch fork after that thought and magically, the cows went out and the roosters decided to not forge their attack.

Five hours later, the barn was clean.  I was happy ...to be alive!