Behind Door Number 3

I seem to be able to find excitement in the most unlikely places. I was too tired to fix dinner the other night, so I talked Randyman into “Frito boats” which is just Fritos covered with canned chili, you know, gourmet stuff like you’d find at a Little League game. True to form, the lid would NOT come off the can and multiple attempts with the can opener were no help. I grabbed a spoon and started trying to PRY the lid off and my hand slipped. The tin lid sliced through the flesh on my trigger finger like a hot knife through butter. It cut from the center on top, around almost to the center bottom. Luckily, I don’t think it hit bone and rather than spurting, the blood just flowed freely, so no arteries or anything had been cut. It was time to find out how tough I really am. 

Driving 5 hours to an emergency hospital and spending outrageous amounts of money on fuel and medical bills over a finger was NOT an option.

So, I could choose to visit the cowboss over at the next ranch who has all the equipment to suture wounds on dogs, horses and the like, WITHOUT the benefit of anesthetic, or I could just doctor it myself and beg Randy to wrap it up.

You learn a lot about yourself in situations such as this. I learned that I am a big coward and I opted to douse it with peroxide, seal it with superglue and have Randy wrap it heavily, with a splint, so it cannot bend and break open. It’s doing okay and I am tenaciously learning how to work around not having the use of my right trigger finger which, apparently is the only one that works efficiently with an opposable thumb. The damaged digit does get in the way, but so far I have been fairly successful in most of my undertakings, with a little help.

Luckily I had already made bread and the peach pie was ready to go in the oven. 

Two stalks of celery have already been dehydrated and put in a jar for use in stews, soups and other dishes later in the year...or even next year, although I will be dehydrating a LOT more before then.

Yes, amazingly this is what 2 stalks of celery look like once they are dehydrated.

It got very cold and windy and looked as though it might storm again last night so I fed everyone early. I have to separate EmmaLou and give her extra hay and grain because she is lactating and will lose weight. To do this, the sheep have to be out of sight, preferably out in the big milk pasture, or they steal all her food. They are like 'pasture piranhas'. I had shut the gate to the alley so they couldn't get in, although they usually stay out until their normal feed time so I figured they would be clueless about Emma getting extra rations. Unfortunately, last night they wanted in early. I made them wait while EmmaLou stood next to me eating her goodies on my side of the fence. 

The offended woolies (technically, they are ‘hairies’ but that just doesn’t sound right) stood behind a gate glaring at us with Cletus looking on and loudly voiced their displeasure until I put Em back in her pasture. I had NO idea sheep were so vindictive, but after I let them in and opened the gate to the first corral, they mobbed said gate and knocked me down in the mud on their way over the top of me. Somewhat irritated, I pushed my way past them and opened one of the 3 big doors on the solid panels by the milkroom/feedroom, craftily slipping through without any sheep leaking in. I grabbed a little  grain and put it in their feeder in the next corral over, through a third door, so they wouldn’t knock me down by rushing me while I walked there with it to the feed bucket. I then carefully  let them in and stood behind the solid door where I would, in theory, remain safe and undetected.

 KAH-WHAMMM!!!

 500+ lb of sheep all hit the door at the same time, causing said door to make full body contact with me, at about the speed of light and sandwich me into the fence behind. I broke 3 fingernails below the quick and found myself too breathless to holler at them. After I recovered somewhat, I finished my outside chores and headed to the house to fix dinner.

When Randyman came home, I was relating the hair raising and death defying experience I’d had and he had the nerve to burst out laughing, resulting in no pie for him.

I see little humor in imagining a tombstone left on a working cattle ranch proclaiming the occupant below had been killed in a stampede...of sheep. It could happen.

There has still been no romance between EmmaLouMoo and BennytheBull, but at least they are finally on speaking terms. There has been quite a bit of rain and it has made the pasture they are in very muddy and slippery, so, for fear of one or both of them being injured when and if she finally DOES come into heat, we had to move everyone and I do mean, everyone! Mister is less than favorably impressed with the new accomodations, but found the mini-bar in the adjoining room to be a nice feature.

I headed out to the back pasture and brought Mister in while Randyman risked his life putting the sheep behind the milk shed. We (he) tied panels together and filled the wheelbarrow up with hay and we (he) let the cows out so they would follow him down the alley and out to the pasture Mister HAD been residing in. The footing out there is much safer. Instead of following him, EmmaLou, Sushi and Benny gleefully headed over to the hay stack to see if they could get through the barrier we (he) put up and have themselves a buffet breakfast. We (me) grabbed a bucket of grain and a shepherds hook and headed their way. Emma was the first to realize her error. She obediently followed the wheelbarrow, sampling the contents all the way to the new pasture, while I walked behind the bull with my long hook, without which I am not very courageous. All the while Sushi ran around us in circles, bucking and kicking up her heels. She, unlike her mother, is quite enamored of the bull. She only pays attention to Emma long enough to fill up with milk, then goes back to making ‘big cow eyes’ at Benny. She is going to be a handful as a teenager. I thank the good Lord she’s not human or I would have to lock her up for years on end.  The good news is, she WILL be ready to breed by this time next year, providing she sweetens up and shows promise of making a decent milk cow. 

We got the hungry little trio into Mister’s pasture and hopefully Benny and Em will consummate their relationship and remain there instead of jumping the fence and leaving the country. We shall see.


* There are still some nice soaps on hand for Christmas gifting :)