A Farm Wife's Lament

                                                         My Job
                                  It's not my place to run the train.
                                          The whistle I can't blow.
                                   It's not my place to say how far
                                          the train's allowed to go.
                                  It's not my place to shoot off steam
                                            nor even clang the bell.
                                 BUT let the damn thing jump the track...
                                       and see who catches hell!

Years ago we were traveling home from a week spent at a cattle show when I found this plaque.  After a week of being the low man on the team, taking orders from everyone, including the cows, I thought it just about described my life.

Farm wives become accustomed to being at the beck and call of everyone on the farm.  When hay is down or tobacco is being set she is expected to be everywhere with just the needed things (whether it be lunch, cool drinks, or baler parts) with no consideration to what else she may have on her schedule.  My kids learned at an early age that the power lay with the farmers.  "I'd love to help mom, but daddy needs me in the barn.", they would call as they left the house.  I have actually caught them doing "chores" by sitting on a couple of feed buckets playing cards on a bale of hay.  Important work.

Hubby was a master at passing through the kitchen and casually mentioning that he would have a couple of hands for dinner.  (I once fed five men on two chicken breasts and a lot of cheese and tortillas.  Show me a farm wife and I will show you a well stocked pantry ready to stretch a meal for additional hands.)  He also was good at pausing to "request" that I come help with the tractor driving, since I wasn't busy--I guess a mountain of laundry and hands for dinner don't count as busy! 

However, few farmers ever admit that their spouses know one thing about farming.  Trust me I have had a crash course in farming but because I am the "little woman" I'm often not taken seriously.  Nothing is more frustrating than coming up with  a good idea only to have it laughed off by the men,  then have the same idea pop back up later from a "male" as the best solution ever heard! 

One area I have been accepted as an authority is when the cows are in labor.  For some reason hubby just doesn't "get it".  I realized he needed help early on when I wandered down to join him at the fence, "What are you doing?"  "I'm watching that cow.  Do you think she's calving?"  he mused.  I watched her obvious labor contractions for a few minutes and asked, "Uh, just what do you think she's doing?"  "Well, she's acting a little funny but she's not quite due." he responded.  With a snort, I replied, "Of course she is in labor and working hard.  If she doesn't deliver in about 15 minutes you better get her in the barn and help her!"  Fifteen minutes later we were walking her to the barn and fifteen after that we had pulled a dandy, big calf.  "How did you know?"  he asked.  I just shook my head, not surprised at his denseness. 

After all this is the same man that made me wait to go to the hospital to deliver our daughter until he had gone to the office to finish some paperwork.  She was born barely thirty minutes after we arrived at the hospital.  He thought it was great timing.  The doctor thought he was nuts!  I was just glad she wasn't born in the pickup truck.