Chores. As long as I can remember there have been chores. Growing up "chores" in our house didn't mean cleaning your room, making your bed, putting away toys or clothes. No. It meant feeding the animals and not the dog or cat but the livestock.
Feeding livestock takes a pinch more time than say setting out a bowl of dog food and it's often reserved for the fall, winter and early spring months. When its COLD. My parents and I are both fortunate to have land to allow our animals to graze on during those short summer months. A brief reprieve from the elements to fork out hay or fill the water tanks in sub-zero temps. It's not all bad and it's part of owning livestock that I don't typically think twice about until recently.
At the end of a long week I really look forward to Saturday mornings. Sleeping in, breakfast with the kids and most recently, chores. Nearly every Saturday morning since the horses have been on hay we get up, there is usually a Jurassic Park re-enactment while Dan or I make breakfast, we eat and as the boys finish up their breakfast, I've made the announcement that I'm heading out to feed the horses and I'll be back shortly. In return these little voices have hollered out, "Can we come with you!?" Oh, why not.
As I fork out hay, Jeffrey and Anders are right there. Grabbing what little bit they can tear off from the round bale and tossing it to the horses. We chat about who would win a fight between a T-Rex or a three-horn; is Paul Bunyan really 63 ax handles tall or that Siberian tigers live in the snow, but not here in Minnesota right?
Saturday morning chores. They've become my favorite.