Dear Zeke,

   I remember the first time I met you. I had tears in my eyes the first time I held you. Evidently I was allergic to the lotion Yvette had put on in you or something.  Or maybe it was all the people getting off the plane congratulating me on my new child. 
  I had already seen a picture of you. Your mom had sent me

a link to your photoshoot. There may have been a few times I questioned if you were really mine or not. 
   Then you'd do something and your mom would say you were definitely my child.
   But as you got older you displayed an

amazing love of animals and a  talent for creativity. Sometimes (at least once) you were even a model child. I don't remember whose belt you used for the snake. But it was pretty amazing to see.
   You've done a lot of growing up through

the years. And you still have more to do in the future. Maybe not in height, but growing into maturity. Making decisions. You'll make some good ones, you'll make some bad ones. I hope how we've raised you leads you to make more good than bad.
   At some point last night, Possibly while we were waiting for the graduation to start, Possibly while watching

you walk out onto that field, Possibly while watching you walk across the stage, Possibly while watching you walk back to your seat with your diploma in your hand. I don't remember exactly when. I might have felt a tear come to my eye. Not necessarily because you were graduating. It might have been the pollen in the air triggering my allergies.
   Or maybe it was when the realization struck me. You had just GRADUATED! 

And it'll be 13 years before Brayden graduates!

😥 

   Zeke, I love you and always want the best for you in your life. Get an education, keep drawing and never forget what a wise person once said to me:

  "If you find a job you love, you'll never work a day in your life"

   Maybe it won't take you as long to figure out what that means as it did me.

Love,

Dad

P.S. Graduations are the only time you'll hear most parents shout "that's my boy!"

While their sons are wearing a dress.

🎓

   

Ag is in my blood, That's why there's calf poo on my arm

   Yes. 
Calf Poo. 
On. 
My. 
Arm.
   It happens. Especially if you work on a farm with livestock. You may be thinking to yourself "but he doesn't work on a farm, he doesn't have any livestock, how DID the calf poo get on his arm?" Those are very good questions. Let me explain.
   Zara had cheer practice at DCHS last Sunday night from 7:30-9:00. When I was taking her, there were 2 girls out in the pasture at the high school by a fairly new baby calf. As I was leaving from dropping her off, the 2 girls were moving across the pasture towards the rest of the herd and I noticed there were 2 women outside the fence. They were very noticeable because one of them was shooting white foam at the fence. (I stopped because, well, because that was interesting) 
I got out of the car and one lady said, "We're killing wasps!" I could thoroughly support that kind of behavior, cause I hate wasps. Then we talked briefly about the calves (one of the cows had just had twins the day before. A bull and a heifer. And the heifer was the one that was with her. The bull which is guaranteed to be okay is the one that wasn't with the cow. The heifer, which has a 90%+ probability of being a freemartin, was with the cow.)
   They were talking about getting the cow and both calves up to the barn. I went home and when I went to pick up Zara I saw them sitting in front of the barn. So I stopped to see how the calves were doing.
   They had gotten the bull up to the barn, but the heifer and cow were still in the pasture. They were waiting on someone to come from somewhere to help get them up. They asked if I wanted to get them up. Hmmmm.
   I went on home and asked Yvette if I could go back to the school and help them get the cow and calf up to the barn. Yvette said, "If you think you can help, go ahead"
   I put on my shoes and went back to the school. I introduced myself and told them who my child was that had had Ag class last year.  They wanted me to know that one of the cows was less than friendly. Her name is Loca and she lives up to her name. I said they should have named her Big Friendly Baby. And then the person they were waiting on showed up with somebody with them. So we headed out to the pasture. 
   It wasn't a perfectly smooth roundup. First they tried to bring the cows to the gate and slip a halter on the cow they needed. Her name was Maggie. Her daughter was named Edith. She was the white one (a Charolais. They were all white ones) She wasn't having nothing to do with that. (Ain't Nobody Got Time For That!)

Brayden met Maggie

Then we tried taking them across the pasture to go through the gate to go to the barn. We're stumbling around in a pasture in the dark. We sort of chased the cows. The grass was almost knee high and wet. Then the cows turned back and kind of chased us. (Remember, one cow is less than friendly. She's a white one. They're all white ones. You can't really tell which one the unfriendly one is, so...run) It only took 3 attempts to finally get the cow more or less where they wanted her. 
   They tried driving the cow up the alley with the calf outside the fence. She didn't really like that idea. So I did what I've done before that worked. I started walking the calf up the outside of the fence and talking to her and the cow. Mostly nonsense.       Talking about walking around and new adventures and her being like my children and my wife because we started on this trip to the barn and barely get started and she had to stop and use the bathroom and then we started again and she had to stop and use the bathroom again and how there used to be a character on tv with the same name as her and Rod Stewart sang a song years ago about someone with the same name as her mother and how nice it was going to be when she got to the barn. 
   When we finally got to the end of the alley they finally got the halter on Maggie I scooped Edith up on my arms and walked to the gate where one of the nice ladies opened the gate for me and then I sat down in the hatchback of a vehicle and I held Edith while the driver drove to the barn.

Reunited

I don't remember any of their names, and they probably don't remember mine. They didn't care about my name.. They didn't need my help. But I had a special skill that they could utilize. (20 years of marriage has taught me to take orders from a lady😉)
   The calves seem to be doing fine. But that's how I wound up with calf poo on my arms.
   It made me realize that I miss having livestock and at the save time made me realizeI don't miss stuff like that at all....

Thanks for Reading!
Thanks for Praying!
Thank You for Your Support!