The Farm

Jan. 12, 2002 ~ Calves and soldiers

We have taken to calling the new calf "Doofus." It fits. New calves are not exactly geniuses; grown cows are not what you would call intelligent. Newborns never seem to grasp the concept of gates or fences, and little Doofus seems dumber than most. I wondered if she might be blind, but it appears that she can see -- she just isn't terribly bright.

We wormed the cows today. This is accomplished by rounding them up and bringing them into a pen, then putting them, one by one, into something called a loading chute. Their heads are restrained, briefly, while we do whatever needs to be done. sigh. I removed Hannah Mae's stitches, we wormed all the beasts, removed their ear tags, and had so... much... fun. Not. We wound up covered with cow poop and other gross stuff. While Amanda Jane was in the loading chute, Doofus calf was nearby, mooing pitifully, causing Amanda great distress. Amanda was let out into the pasture, and Doofus, instead of following her mom, stayed there with us, mooing, mooing, mooing. Then she ran back and forth, throwing herself against the fence, trying to get through mesh (she didn't make it), and then barbed wire (uh-huh, she got through that). The only problem was that she went into the wrong pasture, away from all the other cows. And we're just covered up with coyotes here, brazen, evil, hateful, calf-eating coyotes. So we had to convince dear Doofus to go back into the pasture with the cows. She finally did, only she ran away from the cows, towards the pond. She mooed and mooed and the cows all ignored her, so finally she just plopped herself down in the woods and tried to be small and invisible. That calf is coyote bait... she lay right there and let me walk up to her and put my hands on her. Not a good thing. If she'd let me do that... predators would have it pretty easy.

I finally made the calf get up, a couple of hours later, and go over to the herd. I still wonder if she has trouble seeing, but she's probably just so new that she doesn't know much. She'll learn. We hope.

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Soldier boy called last night, and it was so good to hear his voice. He'd had to do some sort of field training exercises; Larry calls it "playing war." I wish that's all they would do... play. Son said that his platoon was the only one that didn't get killed. Under my breath I whispered, "Keep it up, son." They had to sleep outside in the ice and snow, in the foxholes they'd dug, with nothing but sleeping bags to keep warm. The sleep was brief, only a few hours at a time, as some of them had to be awake at all times.

He is going into some special kind of phase now, where they have to have their bags packed and be ready to go with very little notice. They must sign out every time they go anywhere, even to the store, so they can be tracked down immediately.

So they can go. Overseas.

"Where do you think you might go?"

"Afghanistan."

Well. I asked him how he felt about that; he didn't seem to understand the question.

I asked if he was scared; he said "no."

I interpret that to mean, "Yes, but no way will I admit it, and I don't want to worry my mother."

I hope he's wrong about Afghanistan. The very thought makes me ill, but I'm trying not to think too much about it, trying not to let it make me crazy. It's only a maybe, at this point, and maybes don't mean much.

I told him that I would much prefer he went to Italy, or maybe Germany. Or how about England, or Canada? Or Texas, Texas would be nice? He laughed and said that they didn't even have forces in all those places and I admitted that I knew that, but thought those other places sounded so much nicer, to a mother's ears. He said he understood.

So we have been crazy busy today, so I don't have to think about AFGHANISTAN, the place I least want my baby to go. I shouldn't even have brought it up. Maybe if I don't talk about it, it won't happen? Or maybe it I do talk about it, it won't happen. Who knows. I just... don't... want it to happen. Period.

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I understand why people moved from farms to the cities. Farm life is a whole bunch of work. Can't be helped. Even though I feel very old and just flat out bone weary right now, I wouldn't live anyplace else.

But I wish my baby was here.

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