We live in the country. It’s hay season… where days and nights are long with work and tractors and wagons and lemonade. You’re bound to get caught up behind a convoy of cutters and bailers and kids swinging off the back at some point, and there’s no use gettin’ fussy. It’s hay season, and there is work to be done. Just this morning I followed three tractors for over 11 miles to the grocery store. Three. Tractors. No passing. It was awesome. Rylie, at least, was highly entertained. Did I mention the 11 miles of no passing? ELEVEN MILES. gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah
The fence is up, Folks. We had a 5-acre rectangle enclosed (immediately behind the pole barn and back to the top of the ravine, for those of you familiar with TexasNorth) with a 7-wire high tensile fence. It’s beautiful. It’s clean and straight and electric. I’m gonna paint a sign to put on the gate that says, ‘Yep, it’s electric and Yep, it’s on.’ Longhorns are crazy athletic (which explains part of why we Aggies have had some historical trouble with them in football) and need a bit higher fence than your usual cow. We also had a lower wire added in case we decide to add some sneaky goats to our menagerie. Next year, we’ll add another rectangle of fence on the other side of the house and start making serious headway on plans to re-raise the Old Red Barn.
Ry’s a big fan of sitting on the gate, swingin’ her legs, babblin’ at all the chickens below her. It’s a good place for a kid to be. As I watched her taking everything in, I realize that we have purposely stripped her life down to fences, big barns, and small houses. Wooden toys, old cartoons, lightening bugs. There is no movie theater, no consistant network tv, no marble slab ice cream shoppe nearby. I wonder if she will be sad about that later when she goes to A&M for college and realizes there’s a whole other world out there? I suppose I think it’s better to add things to your life later by choice rather than start with everything and have to learn to do without when you head out on your own. That’s just me talkin’ here. It’s not so much a city vs. country thing… or an Army vs. civilian thing… or even a rent vs. buy thing. It’s just a ‘make intentional decisions’ thing. We decided to start with less… in the common sense of the word. I am realizing, after our couple weeks of craziness, that this slow life… this simple but hard-working, take-your-time life… is exactly what this child needs. She is supposed to be here...at the farm. It was a shocking, humbling realization as I was once again reminded that there are plans far greater than mine at work.
People out here are serious about work, serious about NASCAR, and serious about fences. We’ve already had a minor dispute about property lines with our neighbor to the South… and our fence isn’t even on the line! We’ve left room around the entire perimeter to be able to drive it. But, we live in the country. People protect what (they think) is theirs… and rightly so. Actually, it’s not just the country. I remember a tree-trimming dispute right downtown! To avoid any future complications, hard feelings, or cow tipping we will be paying to have an official third party come out and drive a stake in the corner of the lot. Better safe than sorry- and it’s nothing personal on either side. It’s just how things are done out here. This is why The Boy handles these ‘interactions’ while I nervously bake apple pies inside and leave them on doorsteps after midnight.
The cows- 4 babies born this past Spring- will arrive as soon as our friend Dave is finished cutting his hay… so maybe a week? I know! Super fun. July is wide open for visits after the 4th, so head on out. We’ll be here.