Cattle Work

In the past it’s been pure joy to be asked to help at a family’s spring works. Real cowboys, I admire, not farmers like us turned cattle people.

I’m not actually very handy in a cowboy sense. I’ve been scared honest in branding pen on a young horse where we ended up in the wrong spot at the wrong time with ropes connected to a yearling headed right for us. But still, I fantasize about getting handier and teaching my boys and working together in the branding pen in the future.

This week we will sort, tag, vaccinate and relocated the largest group of cattle we have ever cared for and it’s the first time we are calling on handy help. Farming and mothering has humbled me enough the last few years that I have no problem asking for help. Once a weakness, now a super connector, there is no surviving farming without asking for help.

The first cut of hay is in the barn, and our fall fats which will feed our customers are grazing on abundant pastures. We have more grass than ever, more cattle than ever, and not enough help if I’m totally honest. We are blessed, and we are stressed.

Crosby is walking now, a goofy cadence of a wobbly legged 1 year old. Hesston, almost 4, is more capable than some adults I know, independent by nature, observant and affectionate. He’s such a great big brother, it’s one of life’s delights I didn’t ever anticipate or think about before, watching my kids be siblings.

I miss having hours to spend writing, I miss a brain relaxed enough to find poetic prose for my thoughts, but I’m also realistic that’s not this chapter’s reality. Writing is a balm, it’s a place I find myself and sharpen my senses, so I’m not giving it up while in the chaos. I hope to keep a better informal record of our season to return to later on and expand upon.

So, thank you for reading my Field Notes. Thank you for understanding if I don’t text you back in this season. We are making hay while the sun shines.

Cate in June