Cow Recovery Bucket?!?!?

Yesterday was an interesting day.  To say the very least.  Oh. My. Goodness. It resulted in my husband coming in at about 7:30 last night with a bucket.  The Cow Recovery Bucket (we'll just call it CRB. It's easier.)  Which is basically an old ice cream bucket with corn and a rope.

So why, Kerri, do you need a CRB? you ask.

VERY good question.

So yesterday morning the dogs starting barking like crazy.  Not unusual, but it requires investigation.  I look out the south window and see 2 large cows standing in the road.  I was trying to discern if these were our neighbors cows, or ours.  They proceeded to run away from the house, right on down the road. They looked WAY too big to be ours.  I was "this" close to calling the hair salon on the corner, because the woman who runs it is the daughter of my neighbor with the cows. (For my city friends, and those who knew me before I became hick-a-fied, yes, I know I sound like a redneck.)

Well, before I could call, Jacob yells, "Mom, those ARE our cows!"  I'm like, CRAP!

It's 12 degrees outside. There are patches of ice everywhere.  MG + trach + 12 degrees F + icy ground = Kerri doesn't go outside.

Unless the blasted lovely cows gets out!!  I immediately call Doug, panicking calmly informing him of the situation.  He says he's on the way home NOW. I tell Jacob to get dressed, get his coat on, go out and turn the fence off (later I'm thinking, duh, the fence is probably not ON, which is why the COWS WALKED OUT).  Then I told him to open the gate.  I frantically look for the Jacob's bag of apples in the pantry.  Crap.  Just used the last one last night. No apples. 

While he's doing this, I'm on the lookout for giant hoofed animals that are somewhere in the vicinity of my house, running amok. I found 2 half rotten apples and gave them to Jacob who stood by the back door in case they came down one side of the driveway.

I then went up to the front of the house, looked out the windows, and found a big ol' brown cow butt *right* there.  So I frantically move all the stuff in front of the front door (yes I know it's a fire hazard, but we never use that door, and that's a perfect spot for Jacob's easel), whip open the door, and now I'm toe to hoof with 2 animals that collectively weigh close to a ton.

I was shaking in my slippers.  I had my typical morning attire on: tank top, shorts, cardigan sweatshirt and slippers.  (Remember now, it's 12 degrees.)  I am not a fan of livestock.  Especially when they are in my FRONT YARD staring me down....  They are big and they scare me. I'm yelling around the house for Jacob to bring me the two apples we did have.  Finally remembered that he was INSIDE the back door, so I open the front door and holler as loud as I can, and Jacob comes running.

ALL kinds of thoughts are running through my mind....they're gonna charge me.  They're going to decide that door looked pretty good and want to come in.  Can you imagine?  COWS in your house??
Well thank the good Lord that didn't happen. 

Here I am, out in the freezing cold, talking to these two ginormous cows trying to keep them from running away with nothing but my charm.  Oh, and 2 apples.  I hold my shaking arm out to Hamburger, the little cow (probably 600 pounds), who is the leader of the group. I have an apple in it. (Albeit a shaking apple.)  Brown cow (1200-1300 pounds) is a scaredy-cow and hates being out of his pasture.  I'm like then why did you leave it, stupid cow?? 

Then a large truck goes by. Oh dear Jesus. Brown Cow gets the even crazier eyes. Hamburger, on the other hand, has these kind of big, doey eyes that are very calm.  Brown Cow?  Not so much.  Crazy-eyes.  And he's got them pinned on me.

I am praying, "Lord Jesus please don't let them stampede, and charge me, or run into the street again!" all whilst holding this shaking apple out to Hamburger.  He took it right. from. my. hand. AHH!!  Thank God he dropped it, and it rolled down the hill in the right direction to go back to their pasture.  The I kind of half-threw, half-dropped the other apple in the driveway and it started to roll, and thankfully Brown Cow went right behind it.

Just then Doug comes home.  He ended up whipping off his belt, getting it around Hamburger's neck, and pulling him into the pasture.  Where Hamburger goes, Brown Cow follows.  So crisis over. He's such a show-off cowboy!

Doug went back to work, Jacob and I did school, and I was totally paranoid, and kept looking out the windows, half-expecting to find Crazy-Eyes staring at me. 

Doug got home late yesterday, but he came in with our Cow Recovery Bucket.  It has corn and a rope. Apparently the idea is, if the cows get out again, to grab the rope out of the bucket and shake the corn.  The shaking of the corn gets their attention.  Then you put a rope around one and put it back.

I'm like, seriously?!?!?  I think I'll still just scream like a girl and call my husband.

The Cow

So as many of you know, I live on a farm.  I was born in the city, raised in the city, went to college in the country (Indiana), thought I'd never survive among all that CORN, grew to love it, moved home, hated the traffic, grew used to it again, grew to LOVE "city life" again, loved going to BIG cities, grew to HATE big cities, moved to Egypt.  (Holy run-on-sentence, Batman!)

Well.  I am still not 100% used to farm life.  You all can read more about some tales from the farm, HERE and HERE for example.  There are others, but not as funny.  Some are very, very serious.

But the other day my friend Shawn and her sister Sandy were here cleaning.  They were in the pantry doing some pretty heavy-duty stuff and I thought the dogs should probably go out since it had been a while.  So I asked Jacob to let the dogs out... well he got about as far as the kitchen window, and said, "Um, mom?"

I was like, now what?!?  We had a hornet problem this summer (to be blogged about in the near future) so I was thinking maybe it was another hornet.  I looked out the window, and there was our "smallest" cow, Hangar aka "Little" Brown Cow, standing on the WRONG side of the fence!  I flipped out.

Thank the good Lord Shawn has been around large animals most of her life.  Me?  Not so much.  So she and her sister Sandy calmly go outside and "guarded" the cows.  She had called her husband Ron, and I called Doug.  I rambled something quite loudly about Little Brown Cow being between the house and the walnut tree and what do I do and can you get here NOW please?? 

When I saw the van pull in a millisecond later, I was thinking, I didn't know our van had Nitrous in it...  Doug came running in the house to get something and I was like, "I do NOT want to know how fast you were driving, do I?" He just looked at me.

In the meantime, Ron had gotten here with their daughter Tiffani, who works with horses, and Ron was like, "I think Doug passed me..."

Oy.  They got the bugger in without incident, but my goodness. NEVER a dull moment.

Sigh.  Stayed tuned for more tales from the farm!

Holy COW!

And in this case, I do mean cow, as in moo.

I so don't belong on a farm.

Our biggest cow, Oats, a black and white cow (can't remember what kind...I don't like to get too close to my food, although yes, Jacob did name them...) started leaning way over the electric fence to graze in the yard.  I guess the grass really IS greener on the other side. (ba-dum-bum)

But this gigantic moo-cow is leaning over the fence, pushing against it, to grab little green clumps of grass.  I'm thinking, that thing is going to break the fence, (while Doug is at work, of COURSE) and I'm going to have an 1800 pound animal rampaging frolicking around my yard, playing chicken with the fast moving metal boxes in front of the house.  (Cars, for those of you who don't speak cow).

I'm thinking, either this grass is AH-MAZING, or the electric fence is not working, OR they have become immune to it.  Made me very nervous, I will confess.

So one day, I'm looking out the window, about 4:00ish, and what do I see but Oats, up in the pasture closest to the road, tossing around and trying to CONSUME the plastic snow fencing Doug had wrapped around my spirea bushes.  Well, I watch enough animal planet to know that if a cow eats plastic fencing it's going to die.

Of course Doug is not home yet, and although it is nearly APRIL, it's below freezing out.  So I yell to Jacob that we have to go save the cow, and grab my parka.  He's got long sleeves, sweatpants, socks and boots on.  I, do not. Since the house is always uber warm from the wood furnace I usually have shorts on, as I did this fateful day.

So I'm going outside while trying to zip the overly warm winter coat I never wear, and the zipper doesn't work.  As soon as you put the plastic thingy in the zipper thingy, it splits.  Nice.  So, I have a coat blowing around in FREEZING cold weather, trying to figure out how to get the snow fence away from the cow and the cow away from the *electric* fence!  So I run at it shaking my arms and making boogedy-boogedy-boo noises, and it runs like a scared rabbit.  Albeit a bit more clumsily.

So thank God Jacob knew how to turn the electric fence off (why would I?  I'm not a farmer!), so I had to walk down to the big barn, push the button in and walk back up the hill.  If you've never been to my house, imagine the MOST uneven, hole-filled nightmare of a yard, and trying to walk up it after you've had 6 too many to drink and you're wearing roller skates.  That's about how easy it was for me too.

So I get to the top, and I had a shovel I was going to try to reach in and snag a corner of the fence with to pull out.

{crickets}

Yeah.  THAT worked.  So I step on the barbed wire (with my heavy duty crocs), and pull up on the middle wire so Jacob can scramble through and get the fence and get back out.  Don't worry, I was standing there freezing my arse off with a shovel ready with my "boogedy-boogedy-boo" should the cow return.  We were PERFECTLY safe.

So we retrieved the fence, I walk down the drunken-roller-skate hill, turn the fence back on, and walk back up said hill.  I JUST reach the porch when Doug pulls in.

REALLY?!?!?

So the next day, the dang cow is pushing against the fence with all its girth, EATING my spirea bush!  It was half GONE!  I start beating on the window, because cows are really scaredy cats.  Doug is yelling at ME because I'm about to break the window.  I'm like, "I am trying to save my spirea bush!!  They are FINALLY growing!!"

Well, it turns out that a section of the fence was actually down (probably an errant deer) so there never WAS electricity running to the fence, which is why the beast could practically bust through it!  Doug found and fixed the broken fence, and order has been restored.  I just SO wish I could have seen the look on the cow's face the first time it went after my bush after the fence has been fixed!  Muuuuuwwww---hahahahahaha.....

Yes, I know I'm mean. So call PETA on me.

Roller Coaster. Really???

I've been MIA....sorry. Actually it would be MII. Missing in Inaction.

Friday was nice. Went to my mom's and had lunch with my sisters. I ate hummus. HUMMUS! I was telling Doug that my vegan sister was bringing hummus, and kinda laughing about it. What the heck is hummus?? Well, of course I had to try it....and I LOVE IT. Roasted red pepper hummus from Costco. Dang. Plus she made chocolate chip scones that were yummy too. Ghiradelli choc. chips and everything. Yum. Someone made the comment of me going vegan...I was like, I have a COW in my backyard!

So we had a nice time talking and catching up a little...and of course visiting my mom whose been gone for 5 months.

Saturday morning my back was hurting a little, and we had to go to town anyway to get some stuff, so we thought we'd swing by the chiroproactor on the way...yes, Saturday, and WALK-IN! We got right in,which I couldn't believe. After the adjustment, I had NO pain on my left side for the first time in months. I felt great.

So we continue on with our shopping, going to a few different stores...get home, I'm helping put stuff away...it's like a NORMAL day. Needless to say, it didn't stay that way long. I coughed ONCE. One little cough...not a long coughing jag, just one cough. POP! Rib out. Right where I had just been adjusted. Oh the pain. My adoring husband told me I need to learn how to control that because we can't just keep running to the doctor every five minutes. I was like, What the he!!? Control a spasmodic cough from having a trach and messed up lungs. Yah, I'll get right on that.

He apologized.

On Mother's Day I wished for a new back. Or a cure, or just to not be in pain for a while. Jacob wished for a new mom. Yup. It was a stellar weekend.

Cows?!?!?

We are getting cows! Oh my goodness. I am freaking out. One, because I am so excited. Two, because Jacob is so excited. Three, because I am a city-kid transplant who VOWED she would NEVER have FARM animals. Four, because they will be for meat, and I have NO IDEA how to not get attached. (See number 3; animals you own are pets, not food).

Very dear friends of ours have a son and daughter-in-law who are moving to Montana. They have to sell their animals because of the difference in elevation. They are giving us a great deal, and hopefully we will be able to help out some other family and friends with this blessing that is coming to us! Since Doug can butcher anything, he will do the butchering, which will result in more meat, probably better meat, and best of all, FREE. I guess butchering is really expensive, like a fee, PLUS $1.00 per pound for any meat. So MINUS the fee, if you get 400 pounds of meat, you shell out $400.00! Now granted, beef costs way more than $1.00 per pound, but when you can do it free....WHY NOT?

Also, a little good news on the lung front for me...I did the spirometry tests again last night, and my "breathing in" number (why, yes, that IS the technical term!) went from between 15 and 20 up to 40. GREAT news. The number for "normal" people is around 60, I believe. The "breathing out" number is up to 1.7 from 1.5; still low, but at least it's improving. The inhale is effected by the MG, and the exhale is effected by the asthma, so I'm not as weak as I was, but my lungs haven't completely recovered yet. "Normal" for the exhale is like 3.0-3.5. For someone with MG it should be between 2.3 and 2.5. So I'm getting there.

Oh, the joys of chronic illness. Florida is getting closer, and my neuro. said the change of environment could help my lungs. I was like, I'm SO with you!! Oh, a little more good news...He also thinks that I can go right from the high doses of prednisone right back to where I was because it's only 6 days of the higher dose. THANK YOU GOD!!! If I had to wean back down, while on vacation...That would NOT make me happy. The doc DID say to watch my MG symptoms very carefully, and if the MG starts to exacerbate, then I need to go back up to like 30.

SO....if you are a praying person, PLEASE pray that I can go right back to the lower dose with NO problems!!

Thank you so much for your support and encouragement. I am so grateful that God has seen fit to bless me with so many caring people in my life...some I've known for forever, and some I've never "met" other than in cyberspace. But you are all important, and I am so appreciative of the relationships I have forged on this computer. Have a wonderful week!!