Yesterday we had one of those days. First there was Bungee. Bungee is a BIG calf. She belongs in the pen with the other BIG calves, where she can drink from an automatic waterer and eat from a feeder, instead of being tied in the aisle with little calves. They are hand watered and given TLC not needed by those beasts in the pen. However, Bungee's other name is Houdini. The the guys got sick of catching her and tied her up with the babies.

Doing babies is my job when kids are at school. When I attempted to hang her nice big bucket full of luke-warm water, she grabbed the rim and dumped the entire pail on the region that might be my lap if I were sitting down at the computer (which I would much prefer as opposed to watering six-month old calves by hand). I was plumb ticked off. All my other long johns were in the washer, so it was spend the whole day looking as if I had suffered an unfortunate accident or shiver without them. Avatre, who knocked Liz down going after her water, is another BIG calf that WAS on the walkway. I can tell you that before breakfast was even considered yesterday, Avatre and Bungee were both galloping around the big calf pen happy as kids at recess. 'Nough said.

Then last night the guys were telling stories out of school while the last cow was milked. They both glory in tales of their excesses in hall ways and class rooms. The girls and I, being more conservative types, went out to the milk house to start tearing down so we didn't have to hear yet another put-one-over-on-the-teacher story.

We were just getting started when they came out laughing over some real humdinger of a tale. I don't know why the boss didn't look to see what we were doing before he hustled over and unhooked the pipeline from the tank. I do know that what I was doing was hitting the switch that pumps about five gallons of milk at a shot through the pipe he was unhooking.

It got him square in the face. It also got the door, the microwave, the jackets on the ladder and pretty much everything on that side of the milkhouse. It was a real Keystone Cops moment. We placated him with promises that it would be worth the discomfort of suffering a milk bath because of the benefit to his complexion. The three bottle calves went a little short because that was their milk all over the walls, ceiling, and husband.

Oh, well, farming is known to be a hazardous occupation, and yesterday just proved it.