candy
Living in the country and raising a few head of cattle for the purpose of butchering to feed the family is the way of life for the small rancher. A small rancher is of course, someone who doesn’t sell the cattle for profit, but just uses them for a food source. That is what Bob’s family used to do…Bob and I included. This was a new kind of life to me, as I had never been around cows much.
Corrie, Amy, and I would feed the cows in the morning, or at least the girls would come along. If you have never been around cows when someone is bringing in a bucket of grain, I promise you that you do not want to let small children in there. You see the grain to a cow…well, that’s their candy, and you had better move fast and get it into the feeding trough, or you will get run over. They have absolutely no discipline when it comes to grain.
I remember one cow in particular that I had named Rosie, because of her coat. Rosie was a Hereford cow. She loved her grain. She would run along side me to be first in line. One time, she was running and needed to scratch her belly at the same time, so she tried to do both. The result was that she kicked me in the back of the knee. Man…that hurt. She left a quarter sized bump and a huge bruise. The bump was with me for about a year and the bruise actually re-occured off and on. I can still feel her kick. She didn’t mean to do it of course. She was like a little kid and very gentle, but she loved her candy, and anyone in the vicinity of the bucket had better beware. Needless to say, you can see why the girls watched me feed the cows. They did help with the hay though, but that was done from the other side of the fence where they couldn’t get run over.
Butchering the cows…well that is another story. After caring for the cows and even naming them…probably not the best idea, I simply could not stand the thought or the sight of my pets being shot in the head, even though I knew it had to be, and I was ok with eating the meat. So the girls and I stayed in the house…with the TV or radio on fairly loud while the butchering was taking place.
We have long since moved into town, and we do not raise cows anymore, but I look a little differently at the cows we pass on the roads when we travel, because I know a little more about how they act, and what it takes to raise them than I ever imagined I would.
Today was parade day, and as in most places, many businesses were closed so their employees could attend. It has been a long standing tradition for a lot of my family, and we are sizable, to attend. I usually arrive at the location we want around 7:00 am for a parade that starts at 10:00 am. I know that seems extreme, but if you want a good spot with enough room for your family, it is the only way. My daughter picked my mom up at around 8:30 to bring her down, so that she doesn’t have to sit there for too long. We also usually have a few friends that join us for the festivities too. Today’s parade found 18 of us in attendance and 4 of us in the parade. Not a bad showing.
Not everyone likes a parade, obviously. I am 
sometimes amazed at the ones who do as much as the ones that don’t. One expects that the teenagers might not be interested in parades, and yet my granddaughter, Shai and her friend, Daryan, as well as her friend’s brother, Brevan and my grandson, Caalab all had a great time, while my grandsons Chris and Josh, weren’t interested. Of course, parents with young children love it and enjoy the entertaining value it offers for their kids, but several of our singles had a great time too, and my mom…well for anyone who knows her, it just goes without saying that she loves it.
There is just something about a parade that brings out the kid in everyone. Parents are helping the kids run for the candy and trying to get the different people working the floats to throw more candy and stuff their kids way. They buy things like silly string
and clown hair for their kids to add to the enjoyment of it all. The little kids dance around excitedly waiting for the next float to come by. And then there is the water…super soakers, and fire trucks, buckets and squirt guns all used to cool the crowds off as well as to provide that momentary shock and cold.
There is always something for everyone…fire trucks to police cars…horses to Alpacas…cheerleaders to gymnasts…bands to radio stations…churches to veterans…clowns to politicians…theater actors to beauty queens…and so much more. It is a patriotic time, as well as a fun and silly time. It is the parade.
