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.
Well at least all this wet, cold, rainy, stay-in-the-house weather is good for something; I'm so bored I'm actually catching up on my paperwork. No wonder I neglect it, it's soooooo boring, especially after the eventful life riding across the prairie. But it all has to get done. . . even the paperwork.
1. Who left manifests (more annoyingly- who didn't) when they brought in their cows.
2. Semen test papers, check.
3. Type up report for which bulls got Fusaguard (for foot rot), hooves trimmed, and Cylence (for flies).
4. Invoice the Lease for the shingles I paid for out of my pocket when the cowboy had to fix the roof after the big wind storm and in a hurry before the rain. (But first I have to find the reciept).
5. Type up the diary pages he keeps so I can send them into the board (like we don't have enough work to do, still they never show up to see us actually working. Cowboys are hard to see from the road. ).
6. Sneak in an hour on for my blog (Who me?)
7. Copy forms for hunting permission.
8. Find a folder for the ticket writing stuff (another job for the lease rider now, catch people on the lease doing what they aren't supposed to and give them official looking written warnings. Instead of the Lease Rider he'll soon be known as the Lease Writer, ha, ha.)
Meanwhile, it's too wet to 'work' so the cowboy is out fixing fence.