I'm past 60 where life seems a little quieter, more patient, less demanding, less contentious. Folks long gone are more remembered; childhood is more missed, youth is forgiven. With the grey hair, that I'm still vain enough to dye, has come the understanding that life isn't forever and if I have something left to do, I better get with it.
Fastest bull loading I've ever seen. Must have taken all of 2 minutes to get him into the trailer. Too fast to even take a picture. We loaded a big white bull that was in the wrong field (again) by the dugout (above) in the Spring field. He must have known (from last time) that he had done wrong. Tonight he's complaining outside in the corral by the house. Tomorrow he'll get dropped off way away from those poor red angus cows that are supposed to be bred by red angus bulls.
Note how long the grass is in the foreground. Grass around dugouts is never that long. You can almost hear the grass growing it's growing so fast with all that rain and now the heat.
Had to send home another Simmental (that makes 2) with a broken penis. I didn't think those bulls really fought that much. They are actually pretty respectful of each other. I guess I don't know what goes on when we're not there.
And I mowed the grass around the trailer and sweat big time (not a pretty sight)