Aug. 20, 2002 ~ Hoppy,
our bull calf with the broken leg, seems to be doing a bit better. He's not feeling great, but he's getting around better. Soon it will be time to change his splint. Whoo boy. Not looking forward to that at all. It has to be done a couple of times; otherwise his skin will be damaged, because of the padding getting wet. Then he'll have some other kind of splint, which will provide some support but will allow more flexibility and movement.
I feel sorry for the boy, especially when all the other calves go tearing around at top speed, tails spinning behind them. We call it "helicoptering," because that's what those tails remind me of.
Misha feels better, too. I think. Sometimes he meows pitifully and it sounds as if he's crying. That doesn't happen often, but I hate hearing those sad cat sounds.
No word from Soldier Boy. sigh...
I'm contemplating mowing the yard this afternoon, but do I really want to do that? I already spent the morning working outside, cutting big old hateful weeds, and have since showered. Some of those weeds were poison ivy, and guess what that means. (Scratch, scratch)
They probably aren't all weeds, technically speaking. They're scrubby bushes that grow like weeds. They have wooden stems, and they grow tall, very rapidly. In a summer they can be ten feet tall and have two-inch-thick trunks. If you cut one, three more grow back. Blech. But they MUST be cut, because of where they're located. The county hasn't done it yet this year, and the property owner never does it, so I volunteer. No altruism on my part, though... it's self-preservation. It's on the "corner" across the street from our property, and it's a blind curve. Picture those ten-foot tall weeds alongside a country road, and picture kids with their radios blaring, driving a little too fast, going around that curve on a road which isn't quite two lanes. Need I say more? Wrecks. More than a few. I don't want to be a victim, and I've come close. So have my kids. And we don't want drivers going through our fence, either. So I cut those hateful weeds and bushes and then breathe a sigh of relief. It only has to be done maybe 3 times a summer. Even though it's horrible work, sweaty, with lots of bees and wasps, fire ants and thorns. Snakes, skunks, poison ivy... you name it. But it's best to just do it.
Just do it.
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