Change is Good!

In case this blurry phone photo doesn't reveal detail, this my a western cut, pearl snap shirt draped over my farm boots. Who would've thought it? 

Last evening my daughter, grandson, and I were coming back from a run to Subway for sandwiches when I saw a calf standing in the middle of the road. I thought he'd probably escaped through the bars that run atop the concrete feed bunks; sometimes a smaller critter can squeeze through this space that is designed to accommodate heads only for the larger animals. My daughter was driving and, having followed my former non-farm-participation example while she was growing up, didn't have much inclination to take action. She looked somewhat alarmed as I confidently leapt from the car and chased the animal on foot.  He instantly ran the wrong direction and took refuge behind the oil tanks across the road, but I've had some experience now and knew what to do. I opened the gate to the feedlot and then took off through the ditch and across the bumpy pasture to flush him out.  He was just a young calf--about 450 pounds--and was feeling his oats (or  rather, corn chop). He kicked his heels in the air and again took off the opposite direction.  


My daughter was sipping her coke and staring into space when four year old Daniel, who had been watching his grandmother's antics, shouted, "Quick, Mommy, here comes the cow!"  I ran to the driver's side, hollered to Dear Daughter to scoot over, and the chase was on.  


"Ummm...you might want to fasten your seatbelt," I said.  


It was fun. I looked over at my daughter and saw the alarm on her face as she fumbled for her seatbelt. I  could empathize;  many times over the years I have been in her position. But, unbeknownst to her, I had no intention of indulging in the driving heroics of which Farmer John is capable. It was a fairly sedate ride. 


The calf ran into the lot, I got out and shut the gate, and we went home to supper.  


I was hot and tired and showered before bed.  As I left the room I looked back at the boots and shirt I'd left lying on the floor and laughed aloud. I've traded my teacher cardigans and slacks for jeans, a down vest, and yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, I actually own and wear a western cut pearl snap shirt. I never would've anticipated making such a radical life change at age 58.


Who would've thought it?  God is good, very good, and I am so blessed.