The Bag Lady, so named because she's the inventor and manufacturer of these handy items, takes to it like a pro. The photo is hers too--she didn't just swipe it from somewhere like Crabby tends to do. You may recognize her from her amusing contributions to the comments section. And now, here she is with her very own post.
Take it away, Bag Lady!
SEX and the Country Girl
Well, okay, this isn’t about sex, but got your attention, didn’t it? With Crabby away, the Bag Lady thought she would try to fill Crabby’s shoes/claws.
Actually, she started out trying to think how she could relate to a bunch of fitness buffs when she is, in reality, quite lazy, slothful, overweight and generally all-around not much good at anything in particular. So, with that out of the way, she’ll try to bluff her way through this.
Life out here in the country is challenging for someone with the Bag Lady’s limited capabilities. Being accustomed to the sedentary life, having in her previous incarnation been a city girl with an office-type job, it has proven to be an eye-opening experience. For all of you trapped in concrete, the fresh air alone takes some getting used to. Especially during the spring thaw, when it is perfumed by eau de manure.
Which brings to mind yet another aspect of country life - cows. Those big (and I do mean Big!) deceptively placid creatures who populate the countryside, quietly munching their way through life. They need to be fed, watered, and generally cared for. When calving season comes, they need to be checked constantly (every 2 hours, 24/7) to ensure that they aren’t having any trouble producing their off-spring. This task eventually fell to the Bag Lady when her spouse was away. She will spare you some of the Icky Details, but has to confess that in her wildest dreams as a singing, tap-dancing, amateur thespian-type urbanite, never thought she would one day find herself with her arm up to the shoulder inside the business end of a bovine! Especially when one considers the orifice directly above the one containing said arm.
Occasionally, those cows need to be moved from one place to another. This is where the fitness aspect of ranching comes into play. Cows are generally easy to deal with, as long as you can convince them that it is their own idea to go into that corral/barn/pasture/whatever. If they decide there’s no f***ing way, you have to be able to move quickly and nimbly, something not in the Bag Lady’s repertoire. That said, she has surprised even herself with her ability to get the hell out of the way of a charging 1500 lb cow intent on doing her serious bodily harm. Certainly qualifies as aerobic exercise in the Bag Lady’s experience. (Envision a chubby older woman, doing the 100 yard dash, yelling “What the f**k am I doing here, I’m a dental assistant, for Christ’s sake!”)
Calves are fun. They are so cute, especially when they are learning how to move their bodies. Usually around the age of 2 days, they are running, jumping, kicking up their back legs and generally goofing around. Mock bull fights with other calves or their mother, sniffing at the dog, then startling and running away when he licks their nose. They also contribute to the Bag Lady’s fitness routine. Calves need to have ear-tags inserted, and various other things done to them, which is easiest when they are small. Being small (roughly 100 – 150 lbs) doesn’t mean they can’t kick, squirm, wiggle and generally exhaust you. Wrangling some 40 or 50 calves in a hot, smelly barn filled with bawling calves, in the mud and the blood and the shit, while their mothers are outside, bawling for their babies, is something no fitness centre can compete with. Who needs Snoop Dawg when you can have a chorus of honking, bellowing cows expressing their displeasure?
Has the Bag Lady bored you to tears yet? There are other aspects to her fitness routine. For example, you have those step-thingys in your gyms – the Bag Lady has her tractor. Feeding the cows every day in the winter means getting in and out of the tractor roughly 14 or 15 times. (You get in to drive the tractor out of the shop, you get out to close the shop door, you get back in, drive to pick up the big round bale, get out to open the gate, get in to drive through the gate, get out to shut the gate, get in to drive to where you put the feed, get out to cut the strings off…you get the picture.) This is every day – there is no Not Doing It Because I Don’t Feel Like Exercising Today.
Gee, the Bag Lady just checked her word count—she’ll just have to save all the other fun stuff for another day! Hope you enjoyed your foray into country life. (Next time we'll have the sex part…)