Tales of the Pregnant Farmer- Preface

Yes, pregnant. 31 weeks now. We never made a “real” announcement; if it happened to come up in conversation it was mentioned otherwise not. Not that we are not excited, but it’s another part of life and so it goes. For the most part I keep my complaining to myself. Really, who want to hear someone wine and complain for nine months about things that really can’t be fixed before then?

One Sunday (before Elvis was born) after church we were talking about how Lucy “gets after” Wheezy with her horns to get the first of that mornings hay or grain treat. My husband said “it must be the pregnancy hormones… I know how she (Wheezy) feels. I eat my meals upstairs.” (upstairs at our house is two bedrooms and a bathroom) This got a good laugh out of everyone.

I think he was kidding…

I know he was kidding. His story changes too, last time he said he ate in the basement (which is storage/root cellar/wood furnace). But I didn’t think I was “Lucy crabby”. Geez.


Anyway just because I am pregnant doesn’t mean anything stops or slows down around here. The cows still need water and hay, as well as the dogs, cat and chickens. Well, not everyone eats hay but they all want to be fed and to get some attention. Oh yeah, there’s the little boy and my husband too. Some how everything gets done by the end of the day. As much as I’d like to just sit (or take a nap) there’s no time for such nonsense. It just takes me a little longer to get from here to there and at times, I’m sure it’s been quite a show along the way (like me carrying a calf across the summer pasture to the corral gate).

I will share a couple stories in the near future…


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