Peanut’s Tire Service

A couple of weeks ago, Peanut and I traveled to the city. Somewhere along the way, I ran over something that punctured my tire. We noticed she was almost totally flat when we stopped to eat at a restaurant with some family. Fortunately, my cousin’s fiancee was there to put enough air in it for me to get somewhere that could take a look at it.

I’m pretty helpless in these situations because I have no clue how to air up a tire. Is that bad? That’s bad, isn’t it? My husband enables my helplessnes, bless his heart, by doing all these kinds of things for me. So, basically, I have no survival skills.

I picked a guy with excellent survival skills.

Soooo… I actually do have excellent survial skills because 1) we are one and 2) I picked him in the first place. That is some very strategic, survivor intelligence right there.

With the powers of deductive reasoning, I’m golden. The conclusion? When my husband is with me, I have excellent survival skills.

So, anyway, Peanut was with me and has since learned a few tricks. I’m not sure when she watched the farmer do this, but we snuck up on her one evening just as she was doing it.

She’s gonna’ make sure that tire never goes flat again.

Taeter's Tires

Taeter's Tires 2

Taeter's Tires 3

I had to snap the pictures with my phone from behind the truck because we knew as soon as she saw us, she’d stop. I was laughing and trying to stop a tear or two at the same time because it was just precious. She came up to me later and said, “Mommy, I fixed that tire for ya.” And then she gave me a thumbs-up.

I feel so safe. 🙂

Her confidence in herself makes me proud. And it also makes me proud of her dad. Because he has the patience and love of fun to teach her everything he knows.  By the time she grows up, she’ll be a force to be reckoned with.

And probably a better woman than I.

 

Copyright.  © 2013 by Breauna Krider

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Tri-County Fair

The Tri-County Fair was last week in our small town and the kids were there to show their dairy heifers. I didn’t get to go this year because I was splayed out in my bathroom floor with my face on the cool tiles, mouth wide open, eyes glazed over, on the very edges of death, trying not to throw up. Stomach bugs are the devil. So, I had to rely on the farmer and his sisters to supply me with some pictures.

Here, the girls are waiting for their time in the ring.

Taeter and Kissy

When you’ve got calves around, who needs chairs??

Peanut was the youngest one to show there, but don’t think that puts her at any kind of disadvantage!

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This is the visual definition of competence if I ever saw one!

Daddy was there to show her how it’s done.

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However, we have to thank Aunt Tanna for putting in all the time to get the calves ready. I have to thank her for the good laughs it gave me along the way. I have no right to laugh, because I didn’t help in any way. But, I got the pleasure of standing on my deck watching a breeding-age heifer on a rope run full boar across the yard, (bellowing and kicking because she thought she was finally free), with my husband running as fast as I’ve ever seen him run, holding onto the other end, refusing  to let go (because he hates to lose). It causes me to laugh. It doesn’t matter that he’s spitting mad. It doesn’t matter how many times this happened. I laughed. Every time.

And once the fury wears off and I give him the play-by-play of what I saw, he has to laugh, too. He enjoys a good ol’ rodeo around here every once in a while. It reminds him that he’s still got it. 😉

But, we are grateful to Tanna for doing the majority of the work, because if she hadn’t, Peanut probably wouldn’t have had the chance to participate this year.

"Mmmm, you smell like...like... apples."

“Mmmm, you smell like…like… apples.”

And here she is holding her little ribbon! She had a great time and I’m certain this will become an annual thing for her now.

A proud mama,

The Dairymaid

Farm Girls

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My baby's growing up. She just turned 3, but she's already going on about 15. I know this because of the amount of sass I get every day. She already knows better than I do and don't try to tell her otherwise. The only times she becomes very agreeable are when a Kit-Kat, shopping, or 4 wheeler rides are involved.

But, no, really. 3 is a fun age. Her observations about things she doesn't quite understand are hilarious. Her creativity is through the roof. She asks a million questions about everything and never forgets what you told her first. Needless to say, we have to be very consistent with our answers.

However, one thing hasn't changed. She's happiest when she's following Daddy around.

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She asks questions.

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She gets answers.

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And she's an excellent diesel-jug-holder.

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Calves need feeding?

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She’s got it covered.

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Being a shortie makes that a lil’ hard sometimes!

Manure needs jumped in?

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Um… manure never needs jumped in. To Peanut, though, this is one of life’s greatest pleasures.

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And this is the face of a guilty person.

Chained to the washer and dryer,

The Dairymaid

P.S. There’s a “less-than” symbol in this post. I’ve spent the last 30 minutes trying to get out of there. I’ve pulled every last hair on my head out and it still remains. I quit. I hate math.