You Can't Wear New Tennis Shoes

I have learned over the years that you can't wear new tennis shoes on a farm.  Athletic shoes (sneakers or tennis shoes to us old folks) are my footwear of choice.  They are comfortable, lace up so they don't fly off when you chase down an escaping child, and you can wear them anywhere.  However, there is a direct correlation to new, clean, white tennis shoes and disasters.

Early on, when the kids were small, I was tripping around the kitchen one night in my new tennies, when hubby burst through the door.  "Come quick!  The cows are out! "  "I'll be right there", I called as I headed for the bedroom door.  "Where are you going?!!!" he stutters.  "Just to change my shoes", I replied.  "NO TIME!  COME ON!!"  So off we went. 

We headed for the field where they were last seen in the pitch black dark.  Sure enough the field was empty and there was a gaping hole in the fence.  It seems the bull took issue with the bull in the next field and they took out a section of fence.  The cows, sensing a good show, quickly followed through the gap to watch the contest.  The only thing more fun than rounding up black cows on a dark night is chasing them.  You not only can't see the cows but you can't watch out for their "calling cards" or manure splats they have randomly left behind.  I hadn't gone 10 yards before I felt my foot slide and issue a sucking sound.  Yep!  New white tennies were now green!

Another day I was calmly snapping beans on the porch, when ear-splitting shrieks filled the air.  "Head her off!  Don't let her go that way!"  "MOM!  STOP HER!"  Jumping to my feet, I looked frantically for the cause of all the hysteria.  Coming around the barn at a dead run was the newest show heifer, two leaps behind came son, and two leaps behind him daughter, losing ground fast.  The heifer had evidently decided that the process of learning to walk on a lead wasn't near as much fun as being in the herd and was fast removing herself.  The path she was taking was leading straight through my garden and into the unfenced hay field beyond.  Turning her back would save time and energy trying to trap her in the open field.  I took off at an angle to cut her off, running through the corner of the garden.  I successfully turned her but not before my beautiful new shoes were covered in wet, rich mud!

The last straw came the night hubby came to the house calling for all hands, immediately.  It seems that one of the cows had managed to get through the fence by the creek and fallen down the bluff.  Stunned and hurt, she was in immediate danger of letting her head fall into the shallow water and drowning.  Ropes were grabbed and we hurried off to rescue her.  Naturally, being the one with the least muscles or weight, I was sent to hold her head while they pulled her to her feet.  Gingerly, I waded out into the chilly water, watching yet another new pair of shoes, turn an interesting shade of greenish, brown from the muddy creek bottom.  The cow was saved, the shoes were doomed.

I still buy new tennis shoes, but now they stay in the car.  I don't put them on until I am off the farm and safe!