If You Homeschool, You Must Be Flexible

Anyone who homeschools loves the fact that you can so flexible, especially during an emergency situation. Today was the kind of day that shows just how flexible a homeschooling family must be. The story (a true one, just written today) goes like this...

Down through the years, I have gotten used to Alan being gone over the road. He's driving a truck for most of his work time, going on 19 years now. Have learned to do a lot of things myself. Have dealt with many farm emergencies. But today, for the very first time, I was ready for him to quit his job on the spot to be home to deal with our farm emergency.

My neighbor came to the house to tell me we had a calf and someone had hit it. So, I drop what we are doing and try to get the kids shoes on and get down the road, thinking I'm going to be cleaning hamburger and guts up off the road and facing a lawsuit...Get down the road and around the corner and one of our calves is STANDING along the ditch, outside our fence. No vehicles in sight. No one. OK, so thinking, someone was mistaken, the calf is just out. Normally, I can walk up to a calf that is out and they go straight back to the place they escaped from and put themselves back in. We mend the fence or, more often, find the short in the electric fence. On no, not this time...

I get within 6 feet of this going-on-2 year-old calf - who weighs close to 200 lbs., maybe more, and is at least waist-high to me - and she charges me. I hurriedly back down the ditch bank, and out into the middle of the road, giving her room when I realize she isn't stopping. She's still coming at me. So, I keep backing up. She is limping, but the calf has chased me a good 20 feet when I honestly think God tripped her up. I put both hands out in front of me, and remember thinking, "Yeah, like that's gonna stop her," when she suddenly fell. She was close enough to me that her head touched one of my hands and when she fell, her front feet slid out in front of her on the pavement and one of her hooves hit my foot. This calf was determined to get me one way or another. She jumps up and is so mad (and I'm sure hurting) that she charges me two more times before I call Alayna (Daughter #3) for backup. Maddy and Kenna are in the truck with definitely instructions, "Do NOT get out of the truck." Maddy sticks her head out the window and says, "Mom, that's Yubee's calf. Well, if you know Yubee (known about Poor Ways Farm as "the crazy cow"), you'll understand this calf's lack of friendliness. Apparently, like momma, like calf. Every time I step from behind the truck, she's ready to charge.

Lots of people stopped to ask if they could help thinking we'd had an accident. Lots more drove on by. Some went flying by doing about 70. One little black sports car in particular, who almost hit ME during one of their 3 or 4 passes by me and the calf definitely needs to slow down. So while waiting on Layna, I am just trying to keep the calf off the road and praying no one hits my truck with my kids buckled into their seats (couldn't leave them home by themselves and definitely not safe to let them out of the truck due to ornery calf and traffic. Layna arrives. She gets charged at least one, but we do get the calf to walk a little ways toward the gate. With a bad back leg, the calf is not able to jump back through the escape route she originally used, but she keeps trying. The calf is hurt, frustrated, and very mad. And the rest of the herd has moved up to the other end of the farm, leaving the calf on her own,

Layna (my back-up) called for back-up. Aaron (her husband), who was at work, took an early lunch and came to help. The three of us manage to get the calf to within a 100 feet of the gate (we've moved her along over a half mile)...then she decides to come at me again and as she comes across the ditch, which has a dead log laying in it, her front leg falls between the log and the edge of this narrow ditch, causing her to fall. When she fell, I heard her injured leg crack again. Now, she's laying on the log, in the ditch, with her front leg stuck (and I praying she hasn't broke it, too), and she's exhausted from the very long walk she's taken on a bad leg, she's still mad, and we can not get her up. I keep calling Alan, as if he could actually help from Ohio.

One of the older men who had stopped earlier (he was on his way to pick up his granddaughters from Pre-K), came back by on his way home with his granddaughters. He went past, but then parked and came to help. After what seemed like days, but closer to an hour, we still couldn't get the calf up, but she was so tired she did let us put two ropes around her neck so we could try to pull her up out of the ditch and get her legs under her again. I'd reach down to loosen the ropes so we didn't choke her, and we'd pull again. About the third time I reached to loosen the ropes, that calf let out a deafening bawl, and scrambled up, almost knocking me down yet again. She was running on pure adrenaline. She got up took a couple of steps after me but once she got on the pavement again, she fell again. Now she's laying on the side of the road, on the side of a hill. Not good. I call Alan again. Sent Aaron down to the get tractor, he came back with his little trailer instead. By then our Amish neighbor, Joe had come to help, too. The 4 of us got her pulled up onto the back of the trailer, up the tailgate (bless you, Aaron, for buying this trailer and leaving it at the house after the loading the pool). Went to shut the tailgate so she wouldn't fall off and so it wouldn't bounce and scare her but when it touched her as we raised it, she tried to come off the trailer. Tied her head down so she wouldn't try to get up. Our help left because the rest should have been a piece of cake. (THANK YOU Mr. Bob A. and Mr. Joe M. Tried to pay them and they would not accept anything. And Mr. Anderson actually tripped and fell in the ditch at one point, scaring me to death, but insisted he was embarrassed but fine). Aaron backed the trailer back up the hill while I watched for traffic, and yeah, pulled through the pasture gate. We went to untying the calf and she was still in fight mode. Aaron finally got the ropes off her neck and he was ready to leave the trailer and let her get off "when she rests some". I told him I had a better idea and walked around the other side of the trailer where she could see me. Walked up to her head and just reached for her. Yep, she jumped up, backed herself off the trailer down the tailgate, walked about 15 feet away from the trailer, then turned around, head down, gonna charge me again. I ran to the other side of the trailer and she decided she'd lay down but never took her eyes off me. We left her resting.

THANK YOU, Alayna and Aaron, for coming to help. And I did exactly what I told you I was going to do when we finally got this job accomplished...sit down and cried. But feeling much better now.

I don't know what I did to make her so mad, but for 3 hours that calf had a "I dare you to come closer" look. I've checked on her twice since our ordeal (from a distance). I'm pretty sure Alan will be butchering a calf when he gets home, but all things considered, she seems to be content out in the field at the moment.

I told Aaron that today he got a good taste of the bad side of farming. He just smiled and said, "I love it!" Honestly, I didn't know whether to punch him or hug him. I hugged him and thanked him for all his help.

Alan, you owe several people a steak dinner!

Now, I have a couple of thank you cards to get in the mail to the angels God sent to help us that last 100 feet into the pasture.

We got back to the house, ate lunch, and didn't have much time before 500 Page Club began. We got re-organzied, went out the door which I locked behind, got in the truck and got everyone buckled in, and...no keys. No truck keys. No house keys. Tried for 15 minutes to get back into the house. Called the library and told them what I had done and that at the least we would be late. Might not make it at all if I couldn't find a way in. Took me an hour and 25 minutes to get in. The girls happily played in the back yard with their puppies.

 Ate sandwiches for supper, got bathes over with, and it was time for the girls to go to bed.

 The way we had our day planned? Certainly not. But we dealt with it, survived it, and will come out better because of it. There are lessons to learn in every situation and every aspect of life. Just have to be flexible.