From Baxter Black's ON THE EDGE OF COMMON SENSE
it was a cold , starry night somewhere in West River, Dakotaland. Calving had been under way a couple of weeks. Ed and Wanda were already into the heifer checking routine.
On this particular night, Wanda had taken the middle -of -the -night duty.
Ed had stayed up late trying to fix awater leak in the barn. Water pipes are buried deep up north. Ed had dug a hole big enough to bury a small mule. Grunt work-- frozen ground, mud under the permafrost. He located the break,shut off the main line and called it quits for the night.
After Wanda reheated supper for him, he hit the hay. It was midnight and he fell asleep, exhausted.
Wanda set her alarm for 2:30 a.m. She'd make the deep-in-the-night heifer check and let Ed rest. Ranch wives are the unsung workforce in the glamorous panorama of the romantic life of the cowboy.
Imagine, if you will, instead of billboards depicting the handsome, macho Marlboro Man, you see a full color spread of a red-faced woman with steamed up glasses wearing lumpy, well-used canvas coveralls, her nighty wadded up around her waist, poking out the above the zipper, maybe a torn down jacket with de-hornig blood on the sleeve, hair sticking out underneath a ratty wool stocking cap, mismatching gloves and muddy slip-on rubberized moon boots that look more like deer liver than clothing.
The alarm woke Wanda. She bundled up and stomped out to the barn. She moved one nervous heifer from the calving lot into the barn.
The heifer did not like the move and got on the fight. Wanda tried to bluff. It didn't work. The heifer charged!
Wanda scrambled over the portable panels that comprised the sides of the pen and fell-- right into the hole Ed had dug earlier. The heifer tried to jump the panels after her but suceeded only in knocking it over---- right on top of the hole, trapping Wanda underneath.
Then, just when your'e thinking 'poor Wanda', the heifer landed feet first on top of the panel, driving all four legs down through the bars.
Wanda lay on the flat of her back as four bovine cloven hooves paddled furiously 12 inches above her frayed and frigid evening wear. It was like the fisheye view of swimming cows.
Four hours later Ed woke up, shaved, made the coffee and came out to the barn looking for the love of his life.
it was a cold , starry night somewhere in West River, Dakotaland. Calving had been under way a couple of weeks. Ed and Wanda were already into the heifer checking routine.
On this particular night, Wanda had taken the middle -of -the -night duty.
Ed had stayed up late trying to fix awater leak in the barn. Water pipes are buried deep up north. Ed had dug a hole big enough to bury a small mule. Grunt work-- frozen ground, mud under the permafrost. He located the break,shut off the main line and called it quits for the night.
After Wanda reheated supper for him, he hit the hay. It was midnight and he fell asleep, exhausted.
Wanda set her alarm for 2:30 a.m. She'd make the deep-in-the-night heifer check and let Ed rest. Ranch wives are the unsung workforce in the glamorous panorama of the romantic life of the cowboy.
Imagine, if you will, instead of billboards depicting the handsome, macho Marlboro Man, you see a full color spread of a red-faced woman with steamed up glasses wearing lumpy, well-used canvas coveralls, her nighty wadded up around her waist, poking out the above the zipper, maybe a torn down jacket with de-hornig blood on the sleeve, hair sticking out underneath a ratty wool stocking cap, mismatching gloves and muddy slip-on rubberized moon boots that look more like deer liver than clothing.
The alarm woke Wanda. She bundled up and stomped out to the barn. She moved one nervous heifer from the calving lot into the barn.
The heifer did not like the move and got on the fight. Wanda tried to bluff. It didn't work. The heifer charged!
Wanda scrambled over the portable panels that comprised the sides of the pen and fell-- right into the hole Ed had dug earlier. The heifer tried to jump the panels after her but suceeded only in knocking it over---- right on top of the hole, trapping Wanda underneath.
Then, just when your'e thinking 'poor Wanda', the heifer landed feet first on top of the panel, driving all four legs down through the bars.
Wanda lay on the flat of her back as four bovine cloven hooves paddled furiously 12 inches above her frayed and frigid evening wear. It was like the fisheye view of swimming cows.
Four hours later Ed woke up, shaved, made the coffee and came out to the barn looking for the love of his life.
