Calluses

“You can read quite a story in the calluses and lines….” ~ Holly Dunn

This is going to sound strange, but I like the calluses on my husband’s hands. Some women would pull away from a hand that was rough and scratchy, but it serves to remind me that Scott works so hard to provide for his family, and for me. The calluses at the junction between his palm and his fingers are from driving the tractor to mow, rake, bail, haul, or put out hay for the cows. The ones between his thumb and forefinger are from stripping milk out of the teats of hundreds of cows a day; all of this from hard labor. Somehow, I don’t mind when I hold his hand and I can feel the hard knots. I don’t mind the scratchy-ness when he caresses my face. He loves me, he loves his lifestyle, and he is blessed to be able to work hard. And I love him for it.

Waiting not so patiently

I am so near the end of a process I started in April I can hardly stand it!! I applied for a government loan repayment program for veterinarians that are willing to serve in “underserviced” areas of the country. There is currently a severe shortage of cow vets in this country, so this is the governments answer, bribery. It’s actually not a bad deal and my clinic just so happens to be in one of those underserviced areas!! They will repay up to (key phrase) $25,000 a YEAR for a minimum contract of 3 years service, and you can serve for more than that. I spent a month or so tracking down and documenting all of my vet school loans (eek! Did I really borrow that much!!), getting recommendations, carefully writing a personal statement, and double checking everything in my application. Last I heard was on July 14th confirming that they had received my entire application and that it had entered the review process. They are supposed to let me know by EMAIL (who sends out such important info by email???) by September 30th. Twelve more days…..

Had I never heard of this program, I wouldn’t have missed it. Yes, I would have spent 8-10 more years automatically shunting 1/3 of my take home pay to student loans, but I carefully budgeted for that and am not going hungry. But now that I’ve done 1 million calculations in my head about how it may be possible to be debt free in as little as 4 years, I’m going to be devastated if I don’t get the award.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not just the money. There is so much more at stake. First of all, if the debt is paid off that soon, it would be a really great opportunity to only work part time for a few years and get to be a mommy. This is something I never ever thought of while I was in school, but haunts me now. How in the world are Scott and I going to have enough time to properly raise a family. A constant question. Second, and this is the biggie, whether or not I get the award has become “the sign” as to if we should stay here at CTVH and the dairy or move on and start a new life of our own. HUGE decision and it’s all weighing on the government of the United States- great!

Why would we move, you ask? Well, at the beginning of the year, neither one of us was really satisfied with our jobs. I was in a slump and am now out of it. Scott loves the dairy lifestyle, but finds that Twin Oaks lacks in efficiency, technology, and profitability. All major, well-founded concerns. We had made a deal back in January that if we both weren’t happy by the end of the year, we would leave. As it currently stands, I am happy and Scott is miserable. If I get the money, that becomes a huge incentive to stay. “No, you can keep your $75,000 of free money!” Not so much. But at the same time, it’s not fair to make Scott continue to be unhappy for 3 more years if I get the money.

So you see where I might be lacking in the patience department…..

A day at the dairy

So I think I will rename this blog and try to incorporate more of our lives as they pertain to the dairy. Then again, maybe I won’t. First of all, I don’t have much to do with the dairy. I just stop by nearly every day after work so that I can see Scott for the first time that day and so that I see him before he comes home at 9 that night or later. Occasionally, I will help feed and water calves. My other job is to bring Scott something to drink. Oh, and I’m also the afterhours, mobile bovine pharmacy.

Scott’s life as it pertains to the dairy is much more interesting. He and his dad take turns getting up 3 days in a row to milk cows at 4 am. Other things he does include feed calves in the mornings, put out hay, put out grain, mow, rake, bale, and haul hay, breed cows, take cows to the sale or the processing plant, move heifers from pasture to pasture, clean calf hutches, fix fences, pump out the pit (which is the sexiest thing you ever did see) and anything else that might need doing.

Sounds exhausting, no? You’d be right about that.

Physically: Aches and pains, heat exhaustion, subclinical dehydration, kicks from cattle, milking, driving a tractor for hours on end. My job here is to make sure Scott is hydrated, takes care of himself, has clean clothes, and eats something healthy at the end of the day.

Emotionally: The father/son/employer/employee relationship is not an easy path to wander down. Neither is the husband/wife story. I’m torn every day between demanding myself to be patient (again) and wanting to demand more of Scott as a husband. As I leave the dairy after my daily visits, I am saddened by leaving him and knowing I won’t see him or get to be with him for several more hours and then at the same time so proud of him for following his dream and working hard to keep the dairy alive.

Spiritually: The time I resent the dairy the most is on Sundays and Wednesdays, when it keeps Scott hard and work and doesn’t give him enough time to make it to class, Sunday night services, Wednesday night services and sometimes even Sunday morning worship. I find myself alone at church 3 out of 4 times a week. And I begin to hate the dairy for getting in the way of my husband’s relationship with God. And for getting in the way of our relationship as a family. It’s not just me; Scott hates missing church and hates that I go alone.

I sound like I’m whining, I know. I sound like I’m selfish and just want Scott to myself all the time. But it’s more like I grieve. First for the time we are missing out on learning how to love each other and the time we should be spending together as a couple B.C. Then for how torn my husband and I are between work and family. And finally for the constant stress and confusion we face from all of the above listed factors. So no, not whining, just wondering when we’ll catch a break.