I'd rather not

Some things haven't changed in the past 71 years I've been on this earth, but some things aren't even recognizable. I like the way the pickups and cars looked back in the '50s and '60s better than today. I liked the way men and women looked. Today, I wonder if it's a he or a she, and quite frankly on some I don't have a clue. Food has changed some but not really. Steak and potatoes and veggies, such as green beans, are pretty much the same. It is hard to improve on perfection. One thing that hasn't changed is some of the tasks that have to be done no matter the year.

There was a post on Facebook about lice biting on chickens and causing small red spots. Lice and chickens seem to go together. I would imagine with certain chemicals one could have a chicken house without lice, but I wouldn't want to eat the eggs or the chickens. So the other day, I was thinking for some reason about cleaning the chicken house, which I hated to do. Let me say it a little stronger: I really hated it. I made every excuse and came up with every reason not to. Most of the time my excuses and such worked, and Mick would get the honors. I salute him for helping me out.

Growing up there were tasks that were more fun than others, and some seemed to be more work than others. There were four auto gates going to Mom and Dad's, and on a regular basis they had to be dug out. An auto gate was a metal frame about 6 feet wide and 10 feet long and was made normally of 2-inch pipe or so. The pipes went the long ways and were about 6 or 8 inches apart. One could drive over the pipes but the cows couldn't walk on the pipes. So one could drive over the auto gate and not have to open a gate at every fence. Dirt would sift in so they had to be dug out. It was work. Not fun.

Sometimes one or two of us would dig them out, but there were times when all three would. Dad and Mick and I did it together. Honestly when we all dug them out, it didn't seem like work.

Up where I grew up, it took about 20 acres for every cow, so on a section of ground, or 640 acres, one could possibly keep about 30 cows. The pastures were big. Some pastures might have four or six or more sections in them. Miles and miles of fence to check every year for broken wires or posts broken off. One literally had to drive along the whole fence and visually check it out. It took lots and lots of time and at times lots of work. But it wasn't bad work like cleaning the chicken house. On a scale where 10 was bad like cleaning a chicken house and digging out an auto gate was a 6, fencing was maybe a 5.

About the first of summer all the calves which were born in the spring had to be vaccinated and branded. So about sunup or a bit before, the guys and gals on horses would gather the cow and calf pairs into a corral. The calves were separated from the cows and then caught individually. Each one was given certain shots and branded and castrated if it was a bull. It was work but on a scale of 1 to 10 this was maybe a 3. It was work, but it was enjoyable work. Once you had finished branding all the calves, there was a meal ready and prepared for the workers. Branding dinners rivaled Turkey Day meals.

Growing up, days like Thanksgiving or Christmas would be celebrated together at Mom's and Dad's most of the time. So Mom and my sisters and the ladies would spend hours cooking pies and turkeys and hams and everything that goes with it. Work most definitely. But for someone who loves to cook, it might be a 2, but for those who hate to cook it might be an 8 or 9 or even a 10. Marge made a big pot of sausage gravy with homemade biscuits and scrambled eggs the other day as a birthday gift. She enjoyed cooking, and we all sure enjoyed eating it. Many no longer cook for whatever reason. Instant dinners and such seem to be the craze.

I guess the key is to get the jobs done that are work like a 10 simply because they have to be done. Chicken house needs cleaning, or the bales need to be stacked in the barn or the weeds need hoeing, or the auto gates need digging out. Maybe the sewer under the house is plugged up so someone has to find the clog and remove it. The water line to the house is leaking so someone has to dig it out and replace or repair it. There are a lot of number 10 jobs that have to get done.

But whose job is it? I don't like crawling under a house to find a sewer clog, but I've done it. I sure didn't enjoy it, but it had to get done. I've roofed many a house. I'm thinking what we just might need in America is more workers who will do a 7 or 8 or 9 or 10 job. Workers who will dig a water line or roof a house. Seems like we have way too many pencil pushers who just want to sit back and watch rather than do.

I don't know the answer for sure, but I have an idea. Seems like a work ethic has to start when Mom and Dad bring the little one home from the hospital. Work growing up creates a work ethic. Getting up early to milk and do chores before school wasn't all bad. Cleaning the chicken house might have been unpleasant, but it produced a worker. Mowing the yard didn't hurt. Again, "Work growing up creates a work ethic."