It’s been a while since I've written for fun or for this column. I’ve spent my summer writing news stories for the Beatrice Daily Sun and while most of you would not think of work as fun, I had a blast. It was great to practice a different style of writing and as some of you have noticed, I am continuing to do some human interest pieces as a freelance writer.
I consider myself blessed to be able to share in so many people’s stories as a writer. They have invited me into their world and that is a privilege.
However, while I am still enjoying writing news stories, I miss writing about my life, my stories and my crazy cows. I haven’t written on my blog or for myself for months.
My goal since college has been to be a paid writer. So I can check that off my bucket list, right?
Well, kind of, I guess. But not really.
Let me explain. But first I have a cow story.
Last Sunday, in the height of monsoon season, I had been to church and had lunch with my mom at the farm. I did chores, being careful not to get mud on my clothes, because I had a story I was covering in town. Driving home I took notice of some cows in the neighbor’s field.
I remember thinking, “Good for them in getting their cows out on stalks already.” But then something was a little too familiar about one of them. I discovered that they were mine and they were not where they were supposed to be.
Faced with the challenge of cows-at-large in the rain and mud with a prior commitment, I decided to yell some warnings out the window and return later with reinforcements. (Yes, I regularly wave and yell at cows as I pass by.)
Later, I did return with my brother and his cow-dog-want-to-be. We were able to push the five renegades into a pasture with some of our older cows. It was a temporary solution.
Very temporary, in fact, because when I went to do chores on Monday, four of them had returned to their wandering ways. One heifer, not even belonging in my herd, discovered that the alfalfa was better and decided to stay.
Not being able to get them in because of the mud and rain, I chose a wait-and-see attitude.
Three of my rogue animals showed up on the outside of the fence at the farm on Wednesday. The other heifer - again not one of mine - found her way back into the fence and has taken up residency where the alfalfa is sweet and the living is easy.
I opened the gate for the other three and they walked right into the lot with the herd. They have been there since.
How do runaway cows relate to my story?
Well, to some people it might appear that I wander. I am involved in so many things in our community that some have asked me, "When do you find time to sleep?”
I enjoy helping others. Diversion, Teammates, 4-H , school enrichment, Hope Squads and now writing. It’s actually writing that ties it all together.
It may look like I am wandering aimlessly, but I always come home, just like my crazy cows. To them it might mean sweeter alfalfa, but to me it means helping people. Encouraging, inspiring or just making them laugh through my writing.
I don’t know how to explain the neighbor cattle except maybe they are distractions or excuses.
Sometimes we need to reevaluate our goals.