Farmer me

My sister was out of town recently and I, as selfless as I am, decided I could handle doing her chores for her one day.  She has a sheep farm, how hard could it be?  I found the hopper which is where the grain is stored.  There is a small trap door in the bottom and all the grain sits above it in a giant steel drum.  The little trap door was stuck so I yanked which opened a flood gate of grain.  I had the standard farmer response....screaming, because as everyone knows screaming slows down a Niagara Falls of grain.  You would think a bin whose only job is to dispense grain would be more user friendly.  When I finally figured out how to get the door unstuck and close it, I had dropped a small field worth of grain onto the ground below.  My son and I got to spend an hour scooping it into buckets.  The highlight for my son was watching me accidentally pick up a dead rat with my bare hands.  That experience will be seared in my brain for some time to come. 

We then got to hop on her 4 wheeler and drive out to another pasture to feed some sheep.  She assured me the rams wouldn't bother us when we went out there.  She was wrong.  All my talk to my son about staying away from them because they are dangerous must have worked.  They chased us while he screamed "THEY ARE COMING AFTER US" and "THEY ARE GOING TO EAT US", repeatedly.  I may have to tell him that sheep don't generally eat people.

The final task was untangling their 100 pound monster of a dog.  She had wrapped herself around a crab apple tree which had very low branches.  I had to crawl under the tree, nearly losing an eye to all the sharp branches, on my hands and knees while the grateful giant molested me. 

My sister should probably not leave town again.