What I did on my Thanksgiving vacation...

We were getting packed up to leave town the next morning when hubby got a call from his mom that she'd been run over by a mad cow and broken her collarbone (not one of her own cows, but a neighbor's cow who was had already been in labor for two days). She's about to turn 67 and runs her cattle ranch by herself, while taking care of her aging 93-year old MIL. She's got her hands full, but now has one of them out of commission. Our presence ended up being very much appreciated by the time we left there at the end of the Thanksgiving weekend.

It's a 7 1/2 hour drive down to MIL's place, so we high-tailed it out of town after dropping the rat brothers off to be boarded while we were away. We got down there Wednesday evening in time to bring in some wood to the backdoor pile from the main woodpile (their only heat is the woodstove), and get dinner ready.

I started out Thanksgiving day with my hand down the inside of a still-frozen 17lbs. turkey. Brrrr. Once the bird was in the oven, hubby, MIL, BIL and I started out in search of firewood to stock the main woodpile. We took the truck out to an "emergency" pile out in another field about a quarter mile down the driveway, and filled the back up to the gills. We dropped off part of the load for an elderly neighbor up at the end of the driveway, and then took the rest back to the house to split and stack on the main pile. Then I came back to play chef's assistant to MIL's friend who was in charge of the big meal. I even made my very first ever whole cranberry sauce! It turned out really good, and I felt so grown-up eating it instead of the jellied stuff that falls out of the can.

While I was in chopping, peeling, and dicing, the brothers were out repairing a fence. Turned out it needed a little more than just simple repairs. A series of fence posts had rotted out, and that whole section of fence was laying on the ground in pieces. They boys went out to cut down suitable poles, while their mom came back to the house to grab a lawnchair so she could properly supervise and not strain her bruised rib and broken bone. As the afternoon was getting late, I thought I'd go out and offer my assistance (I like to think that I'm a fairly capable individual, in spite of my decidedly citified upbringing). It turns out I was the perfect candidate to peel poles! MIL came out to remind us that the sun would be going down soon, and the fence absolutely had to be up before dark or we'd be taking turns staying up all night making sure none of the cows got loose. How's that for incentive to get a job done? At about that point, the dinner bell rang (yes, a real dinner bell). Hubby dropped his tools and was ready to bolt for the house while the rest of us stared at him like he must be nuts if he thought we were really going to let him leave us. We managed to get the posts in the ground, and a couple of railings on, and called it good for the night as the sun dipped down behind the hills, and the cook walked out with a stern look of annoyance on her face to drag us in for dinner. We assured her we were ready to eat! We were joined by some friends from down the Creek, and a small music party followed after the delicious meal.

That night a calf was born. The kids named him Frosty due to the deep freeze that was taking place during our entire visit to the ranch. Hubby and MIL got Frosty and his Momma up into the barn for the night, and we all went to bed.

Friday I had big plans to go join in the post-Thanksgiving shopping madness with my good friend who was up the road visiting her in-laws, too. I awoke at 4 a.m. before my alarm had a chance to go off. I could hear the sounds of the one-armed MIL stoking the fire in the woodstove, and gathering more wood from outside the backdoor. I rolled out of bed and headed downstairs, only to see my MIL's bed empty, with her sling lying off to the side. With a sigh, and a roll of my eyes, I went to go round up hubby to let him know that his mother had flown the coop and was out wandering around in the dark without her sling. Most likely she was chopping down some large tree with an axe, or pulling calves out with her bare hands - something against the instructions she'd been given which were more along the lines of taking it easy, and keeping her arm immobilized. Sheesh - parents - they just don't listen. ;P

When I returned from the Black Friday outing, it was time to finish building the new fence. That took a couple of hours. When that was over, I wandered up to the barn because MIL had said that one of the other cows was in labor but hadn't delivered yet. I was fortunate enough to get there just a few minutes before the calf was born. The mama just laid herself down at the top of a little hill in the barnyard, and out slipped the calf... toboganing down the hill. At first the calf didn't move, but within a few seconds she started moving, and the mother went down to start licking her off. I ran inside to get MIL, and eventually we had the kids out there, too. If the calf was a boy, the kids wanted to name it "Shark" but it was a girl, so they named her "Fish". Below are some videos of Fish's first hour.



Fish's first steps:


The fun continued right up to the end of our visit. When we were packed up and getting ready to say our good-byes, MIL came down and asked if we could stay just a little longer, as it looked like Fish's mama was showing signs of infection. MIL wasn't sure she could do the antibiotic injections one-handed, so we got the kids back out of the car and went inside. In the end, it turned out MIL's cows are quite comfortable with her, and she was able to walk right up and give two injections with no problem at all. By the next day, Mama was back up on her feet and doing much better.

All in all, we had a blast. Hubby and I dream of moving down there some day. He says that just as soon as medical and retirement benefits, and decent pay, come along with working out in the boonies, we can look into it. For now we'll have to settle for being city slickers, and enjoy being periodic weekend ranchers.