Super Sunny (not bowl) Sunday

Photo taken previously, posted here for the viewing pleasure of those who have not yet met
Abe or who like Mizz Wade always wants a photo. (really though, because we forgot to take the camera again.)

Today was a gorgeous day on the ranch. I wish I had thought to take my camera, but we exited the house pretty fast when our friend Bill the preacher arrived to talk to Johanna and Eric about their wedding. We figured they didn't need us in the mix, so we snatched the preacher's son, Abe, and headed out to feed some cows.

I have to tell you that Abe is one of our favorite kids. He has visited many times before and likes nothing better than to be outside communing with the animals. The animals all seem to love and trust him and his heart of gold. At Christmas he got some wranglers and cowboy boots and he always wears them. Nothin cuter than a eight year old in cowboy gear. ( Come to think of it, the effect may just be ageless. ) Today he had on his rubber boots though because of all the mud.

We headed out to the west ridge to feed the 40 or so head that live out there. The mud is getting a little thick around the mangers, so we parked the truck on the gravel road and we carried the hay by hand to the feeders. Mark and our friends April and Brian worked on one manger that was further away while Abe and I filled up the one closest. First couple of trips went ok, but then we had to walk down and fill up the farthest (deepest) end.

It was deep doo-doo and we got stuck. Our feet were anchored, really. And we could hear the cow's bellows coming closer. And closer. We had passed them a half mile back, honked and hollered to let them know we were bearing gifts, and they were racing each other to the feeding area. I was trying to hurry Abe and myself along, mostly because it made things more exciting but also because you never know for sure that some alfalfa crazed cow might actually not see us, or not be able to stop in time, or be pushed by her over zealous sister bovine. I knew that some of the cows come in at about 20 miles per hour and do a sliding stop at the mangers. I also knew first-hand that the footing was unreliable. Hurrying didn't seem to help though. The more I hurried the more stuck we became. It reminded me of the chinese finger cuffs... the harder you pull the tighter they get. I pulled hard on Abe's hand and out he plopped but then all that energy had to go somewhere and down he went into all that mysterious black goo. I couldn't help it, I began laughing so hard and he is a happy kid so he laughed too. At least his boots remained on his feet! I think he fell two or three more times. The cows were just coming over the nearest hill when we finally managed to wallow out of that mud.

Poor Abe had one hand and arm completely covered as well as the backside of his jeans. We walked over to the water trough and washed our hands up and rinsed our boots off in a little stream. I was still chuckling about the experience when I realized that Abe had gotten a sad look on his face. Apparently, he was upset that he was going to have to take his wranglers off when he got home. He was fine with the" mud" in his boots. Totally unconcerned about the near trampling. Excited by the pronouncement that "you will have to ride in the back of the truck on the way back. Even a little proud of our adventure, but very bummed at the prospect of a day without his wranglers. Perhaps he should be in an advertisement or something. :) "You can ALWAYS tell the real cowboy... you just can't tell him much."


P.S. Abe told us that the saints were going to win. And wanted to know if we were on his side or not. But then again what would you expect from a preacher's kid?

P.P.S Mark now owes Abe 1 mountain dew!