That was exactly my point. If you ain't growed up yet, it ain't happenin. My mother is 78 and still acting like a kid.
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That was exactly my point. If you ain't growed up yet, it ain't happenin. My mother is 78 and still acting like a kid.
Talking about shoveling manure, I grew up across the street from a dairy farm. This was the Athens District of Los Angeles (South-central/outside city limits). Our back fence bordered in the Watts District (inside city limits). My schools were all in the Watts District as Athens had none.
Anyway, starting about 7 or 8 yrs. old I would shovel out and hose down the milking barn. I had to be big enough to handle a wheelbarrow full of cow dung. I didn't let the odor of the manure bother me. This was early '50's and 50 to 75 cents was a lot of money. I also washed bottles for pocket change. The farmer would stack milk crates for me to stand on to wash them.
Anyway, starting about 7 or 8 yrs. old I would shovel out and hose down the milking barn. I had to be big enough to handle a wheelbarrow full of cow dung. I didn't let the odor of the manure bother me. This was early '50's and 50 to 75 cents was a lot of money. I also washed bottles for pocket change. The farmer would stack milk crates for me to stand on to wash them.
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MissCris
Guest
When I was little, I knew I would be famous when I grew up. I sang, and wrote, and was basically already a star. My life was going to be full of glitz and glamor...
Now (tying into the farm theme going on here), I live a quietly weird life in an itty bitty town in rural Colorado, trying out the homesteading thing on less than an acre of land. My life is more dirt and chicken poo than glitz and glamor, my home is simple and rustic rather than luxurious, and I’m often up to my elbows in mud, paint, or flour.
I still sing, though. The kids, cats, and chickens make a great captive audience.
Now (tying into the farm theme going on here), I live a quietly weird life in an itty bitty town in rural Colorado, trying out the homesteading thing on less than an acre of land. My life is more dirt and chicken poo than glitz and glamor, my home is simple and rustic rather than luxurious, and I’m often up to my elbows in mud, paint, or flour.
I still sing, though. The kids, cats, and chickens make a great captive audience.
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Tinuviel
Guest
Talking about shoveling manure, I grew up across the street from a dairy farm. This was the Athens District of Los Angeles (South-central/outside city limits). Our back fence bordered in the Watts District (inside city limits). My schools were all in the Watts District as Athens had none.
Anyway, starting about 7 or 8 yrs. old I would shovel out and hose down the milking barn. I had to be big enough to handle a wheelbarrow full of cow dung. I didn't let the odor of the manure bother me. This was early '50's and 50 to 75 cents was a lot of money. I also washed bottles for pocket change. The farmer would stack milk crates for me to stand on to wash them.
I'm sure a big cattle barn like that is different, but for our few cows, I never minded the smell. Ok. not true. A calf on colostrum is a force to be reckoned with lol. BUT beyond that
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Don't worry... Wyatt Earp will bring him along.... you can have a "shotgun wedding"
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(Note to self: Never eat whatever Chris is cooking, because the ingredients are mud, paint and flour.)
This is one of those times I wish I had a multi-like button. MUST LIKE MORE THAN ONCE!
Of course... I also passed school without Google. The internet didn't really become a widespread thing until I was out of high school. This means two things. 1 - I'm an old fart. 2 - I feel cheated.
just wait, you will be very happy to be cheated, if you can stand being cheated out
of what is going on in the world these days, especially as you grow older..
always stay true to your Maker, He will teach you how to avoid a lot of grief...
of what is going on in the world these days, especially as you grow older..
always stay true to your Maker, He will teach you how to avoid a lot of grief...