When you are missed, the fellers should make the ef­fort to find you

Westside Eagle-Observer - - OPINION/NEWS - By Bill Bill is the pen name used by the Gravette-area au­thor of this weekly col­umn. Opin­ions ex­pressed are those of the au­thor.

We now have three of those smart clocks that know how to set them­selves and tell us the con­di­tion of the moon. Why don’t we have smart cal­en­dars too, so, as the months whiz by, they can change them­selves? I have to spend about an hour chang­ing all the ones hang­ing around the house. We have lots of them be­cause we for­get pretty of­ten and it helps to see it on paper! This last month has had me run­ning to catch up, afraid I might miss a whole day or two as fast as it went!

We are back in the hay field and blessed be­yond mea­sure with an­other good cut­ting. I hate putting up hay; I love hav­ing it to feed the cat­tle be­cause I like cat­tle. So it is sorta like, to me, hav­ing surgery to rip out your ap­pen­dix. I hate the or­deal but like to live! The off­spring are once again en­joy­ing them­selves and mak­ing bales faster than I can haul them in. I am wait­ing for the day the old­est grand can start do­ing my job and I can sit on the porch and sip tea!

The eclipse hap­pened in my fall calv­ing herd and those old hides are well at­tuned to the moon cy­cles. The sight must have been some­thing to see, eyes rolling and bawl­ing around, maybe go­ing in cir­cles. I know be­cause the ba­bies are hit­ting the ground fast now! I know the cows could not have all been bred the same day but they are calv­ing three or four a day now! Sci­ence is just won­der­ful but, brother, pay at­ten­tion to the way na­ture works as de­signed by the Higher Power!

We cleaned up flower beds this past week­end. My close rel­a­tive thinks a man should push the wheel­bar­row and, there­fore, I was at­tached to one. I was not haul­ing hay as of Satur­day, so we don’t want to al­low the time to be lost if an­other hand is idle. Yes, I found the only Sneaky Snake and, yes, I hollered and ran back­ward. The nasty, slimy crit­ter was wrapped around a post my close rel­a­tive was us­ing as a prop for a tall flower. That snake slith­ered and un­coiled and I was sure he was gonna jump up and bite my nose! Any­how, I am not afraid of spi­ders!

It is my opin­ion, and ev­ery­one has one, when you are missed, the fellers should make the ef­fort to find you. If you are just sick in bed, they at least could of­fer to feed the dog. As for now, be­ing busy with calv­ing — and so far, so good — and haul­ing in hay, I have not at­tended a round-ta­ble meet­ing in sev­eral days. The fellers will think I have died or gone to Aus­tralia. I told them I was think­ing about it. Not one of the City Fa­thers has called to in­quire! I am gonna stop in to­day and sur­prise them, buy cof­fee for all at the ta­ble and thank them for their thought­ful­ness! That should raise some dust!

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