Fret, fretted, will fret

50 birds

Fret (v. intr.)
1.To be vexed or troubled
2. To be worn or eaten away; become corroded.
Synonyms: brood, dwell, mope, stew, worry.

Famous last words.

So just tonight left for me to fret about them.

And fret I did.

Yesterday turned out to be almost as hot as the day before, despite the forecast high of 77 degrees. More like 86. The forecast also said it was going to start raining about 3:00 in the afternoon and cool off from there. They were only off by about 12 hours! It was still hot when we got to Martzahn’s, our processor. Most of the birds were panting. They’re large birds, too, so we only put 4 per cage instead of the normal 5.

I fretted that we had shorted someone else some cages. But I would have fretted more if we’d put 5 per cage. They would have been too hot.

So all night I tossed and turned, fretting about shorting someone those cages, fretting about the birds being too hot, fretting about things my imagination came up with like a wild animal breaking into the building and eating all my chickens.

About 2:30 a.m. the wind came up. I got up and went around closing windows. Turned on the news, and the storm was at Blue Earth, MN, northwest of us. I went back to bed.

An hour later the lightening woke me, a constant barrage of flashes with no pause in between. Got up and turned on the news again. This time the storm was right over our county. Baseball sized hail was being reported northwest of us, with the storm tracking southeast. I fretted about my truck sitting out, the garage full of garden produce waiting to be processed.

Fortunately we didn’t see any hail. The storm skirted just a few miles north of us.

Back to Martzahn’s this morning to pick up the birds. As it turns out, we did short someone some cages. (Sorry!) And we lost 1 to the heat in the night. And 2 were condemned at butchering time, and I don’t even know what kinds of things lead them to be condemned. I’m assuming it’s something the inspector sees when they cut it open?? So I came home this morning with 108 birds.

I’m wondering. Is a person who frets so much really cut out to be a farmer? I don’t know. Some days I just feel too tender for the job.