Cow Parades

Spring and summer afternoons on the farm include bringing the cows in from the field. It has been sunny around the farm recently, so The Herdsman and I decided we would venture out recently and help with the herding duties. Really, we just wanted to go for a walk and say "hi" to some cows. They are cute, aren't they?

It also helps that the cute handsome Farmer also participates in the herding process.

As we are still counting the Herdsman's age in weeks, he and I stayed behind the gate and really just watched the cow parade and enjoyed the scenery.

We also were the object of curiosity.

Despite it being a beautiful day and we were able to say hello to all our cow friends up close and personal (see above photo), The Herdsman slept through his duties once again.

And so while The Herdsman slept, The Farmer and I watched the cow parade. 

The Farmer insisted on taking a few photos, and I think these next three are payback for all my a**less chaps comments. 

Yeah, this one especially...definitely payback for the multiple a**less chaps posts.

Now you may notice it is a bit muddy in the cow parade lane.

I normally wear my boots for herding duties, but I decided on this day it would be OK to wear my ankle slip-on boots. 

This was a poor decision on my part. 

These ankle boots were purchased when I was eight months pregnant as I was having tough time getting my boots on. We purchased the ankle version one size too big so I could just slip them on without much difficulty.

However, now these ankle boots feel like clown shoes. They are just a tad too big and my ankles, well, they are no longer swollen. As such they are a bit too easy to slip on - and off.

Case in point...

Yes, that is my footprint in the mud after my right clown boot got stuck in the mud.

And this is my bare sock-foot after my left foot followed suit and stepped right out of the clown boots.

This reminded me of the first time I helped bring the cows in with The Farmer. I was nervous, hoping to pass this very important test of farm life. I was wearing appropriate foot attire - knee-high rubber boots - but as we walked through a huge mud bog near the front gate (there's no way around it), my boot sank...up to mid-calf.

I was stuck.

While we have no photos of the incident, imagine me standing there in a huge vat of mud with one foot buried a good 12 inches in the sloppy, sticky, gooey tar-like substance. And since this was my first time herding the cows I had a lot to prove I was up to the task. Instead I was motionless, teetering on the brink of falling head-first into this pile of muck. And just to be clear, it's not all mud when you are on a dairy farm.

And despite my impending self-inflicted mud-pie face all I could think was "The hat!" Because yes, I had accidentally worn one of The Farmer's good hats out into the field. Who knew that amongst his 834 baseball caps he had good ones and bad ones? But yes, he does! I had forgotten my hat that trip and thus naively picked one out of The Farmer's closet. And yes, I picked a cute one. If I'm going to wear a hat and try to impress The Farmer with my rookie herding skills I'm gonna look cute! However, it turns out this particular cute hat was The Farmer's new/nice/going-to-town hat. 

Oops.

When The Farmer saw said hat on my head he gave a stern warning..."Just don't get it dirty."

So as The Farmer pulled me out of the mud bog - yes, I needed rescuing and the fairy-tale-damsel-in-distress sort of rescuing is not really be-still-my-heart-inducing, but rather borders on mortification - all I could think was how to prevent the hat from impending mud-bog doom. I was sure I would not be invited back to the farm should a minute speck of brown goo appear on the hat upon post-herding inspection. Farming is messy business but there is no excuse for  ruining the going-to-town hat.

Fortunately, the cute/new/nice/going-to-town hat survived intact. My boot was rescued from the mud. I was invited back. 

And The Farmer bought me my own hat.