With all this hands-on farm work going on, I really MUST learn to use gloves if I want any hope at all of having decent hands by the hand of the year.  Decent meaning still containing skin!

After handling wire while building rabbit cages, setting up the used-wire turkey pen, cutting chicken wire, and constructing the wood and wire gate for the pen, I have lost count of the nicks and scratches on my hands and arms.

The worst, though, happened thanks to Sara.  I have been working on getting her familiar with walking on a leash, jumping on the milk stand, and letting me handle her all over while on the milk stand.  With her delivery being any time now, I decided to make the final trim on her messed up hooves last night as she stood there locked in the head gate.  She was doing great until I grabbed one of her hind legs, when she suddenly took a massive kick, raking the back of my hand right across the concrete wall next to it.  She managed to effectively remove a good amount of hide from the back of my hand.  I will spare you the full view.

As goofy as the massive bandage looks, I would prefer that over something inadvertently touching the back of my raw hand as I go about my daily activities. 

Concerned about the disappearance of my “dainty,” feminine hands, which I have often received compliments on, I jokingly asked S if he was still going to love me when my hands were gnarled, muscular, calloused, and ugly.  He quickly replied, “I think farm girl hands are sexy!”  We’ll see if that holds true, but in the mean time, I must remember to use my gloves!!

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