Barclay, Ax Barclay. Resident cattlewoman/minion.

Doesn't quite have the "Bond, James Bond" ring to it, does it? Oh well.

I got to be a farmer yesterday. Well, a cattle/horsewoman. Its only May and we’re already low on grass, no thanks to the drought last summer. Grass is short, but growing well over the septic tank, and hay is even shorter. So after we rode horses (Zip even came, YEY!), Dad and I fenced the thorn apples so the cows would have something to chew on. They love it back there. It’s like turning kids out onto a playground they’ve never been on before. “I wanna go down the slide! Wee! I wanna play in the mud puddle!” It’s craziness.

The glory of not having school this next week, or ever again, hasn’t faded yet. I’m still all relaxed and happy, letting my stories percolate in my head, fondling them the way one might examine precious gems, holding each idea up to the light, then letting it slip through my fingers like a minnow. Edits on Taylor are going so very slow. Its seems that I get a good start, 30 pages in say, then either hit a snag or get called away. I need to just buckle down and do it, but I need to do a lot of things. Like clear the rocks in the lane, take cans back, mow Gram’s lawn, do the spring cleaning, get up north before things get crazy doing hay, put in my garden… it never ends. But, hey, I got dishes and laundry done this weekend and got the cows fed for a day or two.

The guy who leases our property for corn and soy beans is farming today. The soil finisher is going over the field right now, moving on down the road, and they’ll be through to plant corn in the next few days. Guess summer really is here in full-force. Damn it all.