The Bible Study Group

When you live on a farm, nothing ever goes like you think it will.

It was my turn to host the women's Bible study group from our church.  This event required an in depth cleaning of the house.  No one ever ventured upstairs but no area was ignored in case they might.  The hostess was also responsible for providing a dessert.  The dessert was served on the best china, silver and tablecloth.  In short, it was quite an undertaking. 

The house was ready, the dining room gleamed with freshly polished silver, and the dessert was ready to serve.  Hubby, nobody's fool, figured that the best thing he could do would be to take the kids and leave us to our study and visiting.  The ladies arrived and were soon settled into chairs in the living room.  Forgetting that not everyone is used to living with animals, I had failed to lock up the house cat.  She, with the unerring instinct of felines, had made a bee line for the visitors, curling up under one little lady's chair.  Naturally, she was terrified of cats, so soon was perched with her feet hooked on the top rung of the chair.  Flustered I removed the offending cat and prayed nothing else would happen.

The meeting progressed and we were soon into the Bible lesson.  As the leader expounded on the text my mind wandered and my gaze was caught by a movement outside of the window.  I focused intently with a look of horror on my face.  Peacefully grazing through the side yard (and my flower beds) were the four young bulls supposedly safely locked in the barn lot.  I slipped casually from my seat and strolled into the kitchen, where I bolted for the back door.  Flinging it open I raced around the house hoping the bulls would proceed quietly back to the lot.  Thinking it a wonderful game, they kicked up their heels and scattered.  I glanced back in time to see a window full of faces staring out at the circus unfolding in the yard.

I decided to change tactics and reversed to go back to the barn.  A voice called from the porch, "Can we help?"  "No, I've got it under control", I yelled as I raced back across the yard.  Reaching the barn I grabbed a bucket and threw in a scoop of feed--enough to make it rattle good.  Then I ran back across the yard again, beginning to get a little winded with all the running.  Scooting to a stop so I wouldn't spook the bulls, I began rattling the grain in the bucket, speaking softly, between gasps.  The bulls, hearing the grain, decided that sounded like a better idea than shrubs, started ambling over.  Soon I was leading a string of bulls, like the Pied Piper, back across the yard and into the barn lot. 

By now the entire group of ladies was standing on the porch, Bible study forgotten, totally fascinated by the entertaing sight of their hostess running around the yard. 

It certainly is never is dull on the farm.