Old McGarry Has a Farm

While we were in Idaho we took a little field trip over to the farm to see the calves. I managed to get two of my city slicker kids to come along. I have always had a healthy fear of livestock, but I also have a few good memories from being around the cows when I was little. I think it was fun for Grandpa to show the boys what the it takes to be a cattle rancher.

This calf is a day old. They are around 70-80 lbs when they are born. (Interesting side note: they determine a calf's weight by measuring around the leg. I suppose it would be cool to have some kind of giant scale, but apparently the number of inches a leg is translates into the weight. File that away for the day you are on Jeopardy and have "weights and measures" as a category.) Congratulations to Zack for being the only Francis brave enough to actually touch a cow.
There is a calving shed inside the barn where I used to sleep over on some Saturday nights when Dad had to watch the cows. Mom used to put my hair up in curlers for church the next day. Now that I think about it, it was a weird thing to do. I am sure that I must have smelled like cows at church. Oh well, I am sure my hair was fabulous. Not sure why they don't sleep out there anymore, but the little shed smells and looks pretty much just the same. The red fridge behind the kids used to be full of medicines and stuff. Now it holds Dad's treat stash. He pulled out a big bowl of caramel popcorn. I couldn't bring myself to eat it. No offense. Haylee and Zack got ear-tag souvenirs. Dad puts on a great tour.

No trip to the farm would be complete without visiting the combine. Zack loves combines, even now that he is getting out of his tractor stage. I think Grandpa will always have a little buddy to ride with him--if we can ever make it up for the grain harvest.