Who Needs the Lottery?

I don't play the lottery. So why am I taking a photo of a PowerBall ticket?

It was a gift from someone who said I had to be the luckiest person he knew. I really am fortunate. But I am not going to attribute my good fortune last week to "luck." Instead, I've been thanking God for His protection.

I had a 4-wheeler accident last Monday (January 14) while we were moving cattle. I probably should have been hurt badly. Instead, I'm just a little bruised and battered.

I wasn't going to tell anyone about it. I hate mistakes.This first-born perfectionist especially hates my  mistakes. So I was going to cover it up. I told Randy to tell the other two people who witnessed the accident that they were to keep their mouths shut.

As far as I know, they did. But one of them is the purchaser of the lottery ticket. He stopped Randy on the road the next day and said it was for me ... for the aforementioned luck.

The lottery ticket was not a winner. In fact, it didn't have even one matching number. But that was OK. I didn't think my "deliverance" from major harm had anything to do with "luck" anyway.

It took me two days to confess the accident to anyone in my family. I took a backwards vault off the Peace Creek bridge with the 4-wheeler. It's not easy to get the 4-wheeler into reverse. My inexperience with the reverse button and the bridge location collided. However, all that rain and mud we've been frustrated by likely helped cushion my fall. I vaguely remember pushing the 4-wheeler away from me as I fell, and it didn't land on top of me. That helped, too.

I had some bruises - inside and out - and I wasn't too comfortable for a few days. But even the bruises are fading now.

Farming is a dangerous job. Sometimes it's dangerous because we make stupid mistakes. Sometimes animals don't react the way we anticipate. We are around big machinery and moving parts and chemicals, and accidents happen. We're sometimes tired and impatient - two things that can lead to mistakes.

I could have just showed the photos of moving the cattle. Believe me: I considered it. We moved two groups that day and things went well until the end. We had one "escapee," and I was trying to go help retrieve that one left behind when the accident happened.

I've been privately thanking God for His protection for a week. If I'm not willing to say that and to show all sides of farming, then I'm not being an honest representative for agriculture or for my faith.

In the adult Sunday School class I facilitate, the chapter theme last week was "Revealing Authenticity." Hmmm ... I have to admit it was another nudge to be honest. One of the quotes from the book, "#struggles: Following Jesus in a Selfie-Centered World," was from Mother Teresa. Really? Who can argue with Mother Teresa?

Honesty and transparency make you vulnerable. Be honest and transparent anyway.

In this world of Instagram filters and pithy "tweets," it's become our "norm" to edit our images and our words. We crop our photos to show our best features. We only post photos of ourselves and our families when everyone looks their best. We write, then edit, then edit some more until we have what we hope will translate into the maximum number of "likes."

Author of the book Craig Groeschel says: "The more filtered our lives become - the more we show others only the "me" we want them to see - the more difficulty we have being authentic. ... If we can't be real, are we really living?"

So here you have me: Unfiltered and authentic. I am not the perfect farm wife. I'm far from it. But you know that saying about getting back on your horse after getting bucked off? I'll be back on the 4-wheeler again. (But I will probably do everything in my power to keep from having to use the reverse. Just saying. And just being real. For sure, I won't use it if I'm on a bridge.)

Here are the photos and the story of what happened before the accident, It really was a pretty day: 

There's at least one in every crowd. It's the guy (or gal) who doesn't join the rest. You know the type: It's the one who is insistent about not following the carefully-prescribed plan of action. While others follow a straight line toward a common destination, that obstinate non-rule follower will willfully mess up the carefully-detailed plan of action.

 

This cow who didn't walk down the cattle trail is kind of like that toddler who looks over at his/her mother while doing the very thing that she'd just said not to do. It's like the kindergarten student who can't seem to remain in single file on the way to the lunch room. Honestly, these cows were well-behaved.

Once we got them moving in the same direction with the 4-wheelers, they went willingly.

Cattle - like humans - are creatures of habit. It took awhile for them to realize that the electric fence was no longer there. Even the enticement of a big round bale of tasty hay didn't have them crossing the line where the fence had been.

They finally crossed the "demilitarized" zone.

And with a little urging, they were across the road.

We ran them into the corrals until the roads froze enough to move them. Thankfully, that happened on Saturday. It was before the heifers started calving. While the "due date" is January 28, we had our first baby calves by January 23 last year.

Since there's another cold snap with potential flurries or a "wintry mix" coming, it will probably happen soon. Randy is already making trips to "the girls" to see if we have any early arrivals for the Class of 2019. Alert: Cute calf pictures soon to come!

Marketing Proposal

I have a new marketing scheme for the maker of Vet-R-Sem gloves. They could develop a niche market by visiting orthopedic doctors' offices and peddling their wares.

The gloves are used by veterinarians and ranchers for preg checking cows or for helping with difficult deliveries.

It says right on their packaging: "The veterinarian's choice for sensitivity and strength."And who needs sensitivity and strength more than a Kansas farmer with a broken wrist attempting to plant wheat?

The gloves have gotten daily use at our house the past 2 1/2 weeks as cast covers. They are just the right shape for sliding over a cast prior to a shower.

Add a little packing tape strapped to the top, and you have a waterproof cast cover. 

Pretty ingenious. Yep, it was my idea. It's a whole lot easier than trying to figure out how to tape a garbage bag over said cast. 

While Randy can't get his fingers down into the glove part, the plastic sleeves have served their purpose quite nicely, and he has avoided giving his cast a shower.

However, his cast looked like it could use a shower by the time we went to a follow-up appointment in Great Bend yesterday morning.

Randy's plan was to wear a sock over the cast when he did dirty jobs. However, it wasn't a fail-safe method. The cast was decidedly dingy by Randy's doctor's appointment yesterday morning.

The X-ray showed that the cast had been doing its job - dirt and all. The wrist is still in line. Randy was hoping to leave the doctor's office cast-less. I went to the appointment to make sure Randy confessed how busy he is and how much he's attempting to do, even with a cast.

Dr. Hildebrand grew up on a farm not too far from here, so I probably didn't need to "tattle" on my hubby. But, nevertheless, Randy is back in purple after a brief reprieve for the X-ray. He contemplated switching to camouflage or to red and black for the Stafford Trojans. But, in the end, he went with purple so he'll be game-ready for the Sunflower Showdown this weekend.

He was in a purple cast when we beat OU. He didn't want to take any chances.

And for you marketing execs at Jorgensen Labs? When you start visiting orthopedic offices and selling your gloves, remember you heard it here first. You're welcome.

We Now Interrupt This Program

We now interrupt this regularly scheduled program to bring you ... a broken big toe.

Yes, today I had intended to bring you more details from our annual project to move cows and calves to summer pastures.

However, I didn't plan on being on the injured reserve list. So instead of our regularly scheduled program, I bring you a detour on the journey. I am on the farm wife casualty list at the moment after an accident yesterday while we were sorting mama and baby calves.

And things started out so well. It was a beautiful morning.

The boss handed me my own personal list of numbers we were looking for. And lo and behold, the leaders of the pack in the corral happened to be R66 and her baby 1066, who were at the top of the list. We ran them into a separate pen, easy as can be.

The sorting went fairly well. We'd already taken a load of babies and 10 mamas in trailers to the Rattlesnake Creek pasture and were back to load more. We got Randy's trailer loaded and were sorting out seven more to ride in Jake's trailer.

And then it happened. See the wooden post on the lefthand side of the photo? It broke from its moorings and the big red metal gate came crashing down on my big toe.

I will spare you the photo of my toe. I have ugly feet, and let's just say they aren't any prettier with the new black and blue coloration.

After three hours of waiting at the clinic yesterday, I learned that, yes, indeed, I have a broken big toe. This morning, I'm going to see the orthopedist who will probably also confirm I have a broken big toe.

I'm not sure there is much they can do about it other than let it heal. So we'll see.

It was just a case of bad luck. Or good luck, depending on how optimistic I choose to be. It definitely could have been worse. If the gate would have fallen on the arch of my foot, it could have broken a whole bunch of bones.

I was supposed to be co-hostess for PEO today. So instead of making a homemade dessert, they are getting Dutch Kitchen pies. That could be worse too. I don't think anyone will complain about Dutch Kitchen pies.