Nothing is Ever Simple

I love to sing.  I'm not very good but that doesn't change my enthusiasm or enjoyment.  I sing, mainly, in the church choir under the direction of a very tolerant and gifted director and teacher.  Our little choir practices diligently before presenting an anthem or special for the congregation.  They are all friends, so they are usually very complementary and make us feel good about our efforts.

This past Sunday was a little more special. 

Our church is the proud possessor of a Pilcher Pipe Organ that is now 100 years old.  To celebrate this we hosted a recital by Dr. Wesley Roberts, who is the Professor of Musicology, Piano and Organ at Campbellsville University.  The choir was to join in with Dr. Roberts on two anthems.  It was a special day with lots of visitors and we were all excited, and a little nervous about our part in it.  I had repeatedly warned the family that I would be tied up that Sunday afternoon with the recital and reception.  They assured me that it would not be a problem.

Hubby went to pick up the grandkids for church while I went early to practice.  He arrived with just the little girl, since the two little boys had opted to chore with their dad.  Everything was smooth until Hubby leaned over during church and whispered a suggestion that we just grab a sandwich at home instead of going out to eat as we usually do.  I glared at him but he piously bowed his head.  "How are you going to convince your little princess to go home if she ever gets to our house!"  I hissed.  "I'll handle it" he blithely returned.  The problem being that our granddaughter can wrap her grandfather around her finger and tie it in a bow!  I knew she wouldn't give up her afternoon of our undivided attention easily.

We had driven separately, so by the time we arrived home for our sandwich, the two of them had it all worked out.  The granddaughter was going with him to church to hear Jo-Jo sing then we would all change and go to her brother's ballgame.  Since Hubby isn't the most patient of people with entertaining little ones, I figured that the best case scenario would be that she would cuddle up and nap and worse case he could take her out and let her play in the classrooms.  So I took off to church for our pre-singing warm-up, with them to follow shortly.

The choir was in their places in the front pew, the church was filling up and I still hadn't seen Hubby.  Then suddenly his head was next to mine and he was whispering urgently.  "I've left Hadleigh in the nursery.  I've got a cow calving and I've got to go back home. "  With that, he was gone.  The choir members looked at me quizzically.  "How did he know he had a cow calving?  Did she call him?"  one questioned, laughing.  I just shook my head...I didn't know either.  I was left wondering if there was even a sitter in the nursery or did he just leave our granddaughter playing?  I finished the rest of the afternoon with one eye on the sanctuary door wondering if I would see her wandering around. 

The program was wonderful.  We sang with enthusiasm and hopefully didn't miss many notes.  Pictures were taken, friends greeted, cookies tasted, and the event was over.  Hadleigh joined me after spending a happy hour playing under the supervision of an older child and we rushed off home.  She babbled happily from the backseat about the "really loud organ" and the prospect of seeing the new baby when we got home.

As I got within sight of the hill I spotted the vet's white truck parked in front of the barn.  "Oh, no!" I murmured, "The vet is here.  That's not a good thing."  A little voice piped up from the back seat, "It's OK, Jo-Jo.  He's really a nice man!"  "That's true'" I thought, "but you sure don't call even a nice vet on a Sunday afternoon unless it's bad!"  She jumped from the car and ran to the barn to see the new baby with me running behind hoping that it wouldn't be sad news.  Hubby scooped her up and told her to be quiet and we would go see the baby. 

We all crept into the barn and peeped over the stall at the tiny, black bundle laying on the hay.  Mama cow crooned a low moo-o-o and licked the little head.  "Sh-h-h!" Hadleigh cautioned me, "You have to be quiet!"  We crouched down and the little girl and the little heifer looked at each other.  Hubby and I looked at each other, a perfect ending.

It turned out that he had spotted the cow in labor on his way out to town.  Realizing that he needed to help her and he couldn't do it with a little one in tow, he came on to church and, surprise, left her in my (?) care.  Fortunately, one of the older kids was already staying in the nursery with a couple of other children.  If he hadn't gone back, we would have lost both cow and calf.  The calf had her head back over her shoulder, an impossible position for it to have been born.  The vet was able to reposition the calf and all ended well.

On a farm, nothing is ever simple. 

Even church concerts and sometimes calving.