Last week was not a great week at the farm.
When I arrived home, Hubby was trying to reach Older Son. Our one older cow was off her feed, and symptoms looked she had lost the unborn calf. Older Son commandeered his buddy Henry and they and Hubby tried to "pull the calf." Calf was indeed dead, and when they were done, so was cow. There went the property taxes.
This week, things were looking brighter. Hubby counted our big round 800 pound bales of hay. After putting an ad in the local buyers guide, we got a couple calls, and before you knew it, we had sold 30 bales of hay.
Hubby is smiling and life was looking up.
But he still won't take me to dinner tonight.