Shed

We started putting the new hayshed up this week. It's been kinda fun doing something different. As I don't mind working at heights, I've been one of the bunnies in the excavator bucket seven metres in the air swinging off a podgy bar or spanner. I can't say that I'm terribly impressed with the design of the shed, but then again, I'm no engineer.
For the stats minded, the shed is twenty eight metres long and twelve metres wide and seven metres high at the peak, with five metres clearance at the side.
In other news, I retract my earlier statements regarding cattle breeds. We put a herd through the yards yesterday morning to draft off a new pen for the feedlot. They were lunatics, but not in the usual way. It's like they were part of a sleeper cell of cattle planted by PETA, programmed to go from meek and mild to completely nutso at the most inopportune moment. The Angus were the loopiest, but the Santas were the scariest. One of them leaped at me from the other side of a six foot gate and nearly made it over. Scared the shit out of me and took us a while to get him off the gate without us - or him - getting damaged. I'm getting pretty light on my feet, though, only one of them actually made contact with me.

A previously docile Santa Gertrudis walked into the forcing yard, decided he didn't want to be in there and bolted back out, straight at me. Cattle will often throw their head at you as they run past, dunno why, but they'll do it from three or four feet away. This bloke did it just as he reached me and gave me my first horn wound. Luck he'd been dehorned when he was a pup, because the horns grow back with a flat end. Still hurt like a bitch, now I've got a little graze/bruise right where my rock-hard abs meet my rock-hard..., other muscles on the side.

I'll get over it.