Yesterday afternoon and evening we spent at J’s folks’ farm. We brought out our horses so they could play with Grandpa’s horses and harass calves in the new arena. My two eldest took part in practicing keeping a calf in a particular area of the arena, an exercise that Grandpa (the hardest worker I’ve ever known) described in a word that I almost never hear him utter in relation to his activities: Fun.
Since I’m no horsewoman, it was gratifying to watch my girls fearlessly gallop around the arena, keeping that calf right where they wanted him:
Some of us got on the hay wagon to feed the cows and calves down at the bottom of the place; once we got there, big-boy G was given the task to drive the tractor. Grandpa put the tractor in low gear and gave a quick driving lesson while the cows looked on:
Then Grandpa and Uncle Don stood on the back of the wagon and pushed the hay bales off the back in a long line for the cows to eat:
G did a great job getting the hang of keeping the tractor headed in the right direction:
When we got back, J was practicing his roping skillz:
Madame Chaos locked her brother in the dog pen:
As the sun set, G played on the old hot walker (horse exerciser) that Grandpa converted into a merry-go-round, arguably one of the most popular destinations at the farm:
End the day with Grandma’s meatloaf and mashed potatos with rolls and sweet corn, and you’ve got yourself a perfect memory.