"Are you sure you feel like traveling?" Mark asked his mom as she stood by the car as dad put the overnight bags into the back seat.
"Yes I'll be okay. We will just go straight home." The poor little lady. Her whole hand except a couple fingers were bandaged in white and secured to her waist with a sling.
Mark helped her into the car and shut the door. Dad said his good-byes over the top of the hood and then slipped into the driver's seat.
"I wonder if those poor folks will ever come back here after these last two trips?"
"Oh I'm sure they will. It is just the pits that they have had such bad luck within the last few weeks!" Mark said raising his hand to wave as dad drove out the drive and headed west.
First it was the deer accident that left them without their car for a couple months. Then when they arrived on the bus to pick it up, Mom's thumb was all red and swollen and red streaks were running up the arm. When she woke the next morning with a temperature, I took her to our doctor. He immediately admitted her to the hospital. She ended up in the operating room where they had to remove the infection. The poor woman was so brave, but had so much pain. My heart felt so sad for her!
"Well, I'm just glad that it all turned out okay for them and that they are on their way home," I said waving until they were out of sight.
"Where is Kate?" Mark asked
"She was just right here. Probably went in the house for something. Why?"
"I was wondering if she would help me give a couple litters of pigs iron shots before lunch."
"I'm sure she would. Let me tell her," I answered walking up the back porch as Mark headed to the farrowing shed.
"Kate...Dad wonders if you could help him give some iron shots?"
"Okay, I guess. Right now?"
"He headed out there."
With a bang of the door, Kate was on her way. She sure was coming in handy here on the farm. With Bret working at K-Mart every day, we were lucky to have a girl who was willing to help. I started to clean up the kitchen and then packed up some more things that Bret could use at college.
At lunch, Mark announced that he had another job for both of us. We could have our choice!
"I need to get those feeder pigs out of the nursery this afternoon. They are getting just too tight in there, and their body heat is making it hard to keep cool. The misters help, but they just need to get moved out. Then it would be really good to get the rest of the 80 across from Grandpa's plowed. I'd guess about a afternoons worth. Who wants to do what?"
"I'll plow!" Kate was quick to announce.
"Well, I guess that tells me what my job will be," I said getting up to clean off the table.
"I'll take Kate up and get her started, then I will be back for you."
Man I hate to wear jeans for this job. Oh well, Mark wears them all the time and wearing a pair of shorts with knee high boots would look stupid! On second thought, why am I worried about it? Only Mark and the pigs will see me, and I went to the bedroom to get a pair of shorts. Just as well be comfortable.
Even with the misters off, the pigs were all wet and muddy. Now when you get fifteen or twenty eighty pound pigs in a pen the size of 6' x 10', well there isn't a whole lot of room for two people! I knew exactly why Kate wanted to plow!
With eight pens full of these squealing fellows, a person had a hard time hearing. Mark hooked the weigh wagon to the tractor and backed it up to the back door. Then he and I got our boards and opened the gate of the first pen of eighty pounders. We made our way back through the bunch, my bare legs immediately turning an ugly brownish white. We hopped over some and walked between some until we got to the back. The motive was that we would chase them out into the hallway and then after shutting the gate, proceed to load them in the weigh wagon and haul them to the fatting pen.
Now a person would think that an animal would go straight out the opening. Not a pig! They had to go squealing around the pen and between your legs, about five times. Back and forth they went. Finally Mark said "Let's just get five at a time." So out they go, five at a time. After they are all out in the hall and the gate closed, a person proceeds to get them to go out the wide open door into the weigh wagon. Oh no, that would be too simple! We have to go a squealing and running to the opposite end of the hall and crowd up on top of each other. I don't really know where they were wanting to go as they came to a closed door, but they try anything except the right thing.
So once again, we go clambering over top of them, one leg on top of a couple pigs and the other one somewhere down between two others- half sitting on another one, until we make it to the back of that pile of squealers. Mark takes four up and out the door. I brought four more until finally we have the bunch loaded.
When we get two pens loaded in the weight wagon, Mark climbs up over the side and hops into the tractor, and I stand in the back of the wagon, getting shoved and penned against the back by wet, muddy pigs as Mark drives to the fatting pen to unload. It is the same there. They can't or don't want to see the open gate and the nice spacious pen awaiting them. They once again squeal and pile up in the corner while we go hopping over top and in between them to help them find the open gate. Now if we would ever leave a gate open by mistake, boy you could bet they would all be out!
After the nursery is empty, it is a mess. There are empty pens with slats covered with manure. The feeders are smeared with mud and manure and some old feed still left in the bottom. The walls are covered with dirt, grime and manure. Cobwebs hang from the ceiling. It was one of my favorite jobs to power wash the whole thing! It amazing how clean it can look, and after disinfecting it, the smell is so clean.
It was at the supper table that night that Bret dropped the bomb on us! "I have been looking at a motorcycle. Today they had lowered the price some. I think I'll get it."
"But Bret those things are too dangerous!" I blurted out.
"Mom, we have talked about this before and you told me that I could get one after I graduated. It would be so handy at college. With a car, the freshman have to park a long way from the dorm," he said to me.
I just sat there, because I knew I couldn't win. Yes, we had discussed this subject before, but I just hoped he would get the idea out of his head in time, but no. So....
"What did you find?" Mark said slowly, putting a fork full of potatoes into his mouth.
"It's a Yamaha. A little 200cc."
"What color is it?" Kate piped up all excited.
"Red and chrome."
"Wow! Will you give me a ride?" she begged.
"Okay, but there HAS to be helmets at all times! Promise?" I pleaded.
"Yes, mother!"
"I'd like to see it first. How about me taking you in tomorrow? Do you work?" Mark asked.
"Let's see, it's Saturday. No, I don't think so. Yeah, that would be good," Bret said smiling from ear to ear.
"Oh can I go? Please mom!" Kate looked at me all big eyed.
"I guess so. I will be cleaning the nursery, so you guys just as well have your fun."
It was dark in our bedroom and Mark was sawing logs. I tossed and turned. I just couldn't get to sleep. The clock was turning way to fast! Bret out of school, Kate in high school, Bret going to college, Bret getting his first motorcycle! Whoa, stop the clock. Let me catch up!
As I laid there listening to the constant chatter floating up from the basement, I wondered what this house would be like in a few weeks. Pretty quiet I was sure. What would poor Kate do without Bret? They were always doing something together. Just like tonight. I was sure they were talking "motorcycles".
After pig chores the next morning, Mark hooked up the power washer for me. After they were on their way to town, I walked slowly out to start my cleaning job. I definitely wore jeans for this job plus boots. By the time I was done, I would be soaked from top to bottom and speckled with pig goody.
The ventilation doors were propped clear open. The hose and hand nozzle ran in though the north one. I put in my ear plugs, knotted my hair up into a shower cap, and put on the protective glasses. I bent down and gave the power washer a couple pulls, and it roared to a start. Walking in through the back door, I grabbed up the nozzle and pulled the trigger. I was ready. All the old feed had been cleaned out of the feeders, and the gates all stood open. It was going to be so much fun knocking off that manure and cleaning away the cobwebs.
Humming to myself, I soaked down all the walls, the feeders, and the ceiling. Water was misting all over me. Little drops fell from the end of my nose. Now to get to real business. Back and forth I went over every slat in the floor, knocking off the manure. Little pieces would fly up and hit my face and speckle my glasses. After about the third pen, my glasses were so speckled I could hardly see around each spot, but on I went.
OH GROSS! YUK! I drop the nozzle and run to the door, heart beating a mile a minute! OH THAT WAS JUST TOO MUCH! I had been faithfully cleaning the pen sides and..OH GAK! A mouse had stuck his beanie little head out of a pipe at me! It was all wet and looked just plain disgusting! Man, did I ever wish Mark was home!
I walked really slowly back into the nursery and picked up the nozzle that was shooting all around the place. "Okay, you are gone, right little mouse? You won't show your face again, right?" I asked as I started to clean the last pen. Believe me, I kept my eyeballs wide open to make sure we did not come in contact again.
It looked so nice and shiny! It was hard to believe that a place could clean up so well. After spraying it down with disinfectant, I closed down the doors, turned out the light and walked to the house. I was soaked to the bone from head to toe. Little specks of pig goodie were all over me, except the part of my jeans that was tucked down in my boots.
I had taken a bath and washed my hair when I heard a car pull into the drive way. I ran outside, hair up in a towel and there just pulling into the drive was a brand new red motorcycle! Bret brought it to a stop, hopped off and kicked down the kick stand. Removing his helmet he asked, "Do you like it mom?"
Now what kind of question was that? "Well, it's pretty for sure, but I sure hope you will be safe. I just don't like those things. They only have two wheels and what if you flip? I don't even think Bret heard me. He was walking around it like it was some trophy or something.
Little by little, Bret was preparing for college. Every time I looked at that new shiny red cycle, I was reminded that in a short two weeks, he would be there and we three would be here. So, life goes on!
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