First, I officially throw my hands in the air. There is no calf on the ground, Bridgit's laboring state hasn't changed one iota, and I now fully believe I lack the ability to predict labor and read tea leaves. (Wait, what?)
Second, I finally have a good answer to the question my chiropractor has been asking repeatedly on my almost weekly visits ("What have you been doing? I've never seen you so "out" as you've been the last couple of months"). BUCKING HAY BALES. Duh. We've been feeding the girls hay now since early September (hmmm, about when my upper back pain/"out" neck really kicked in), one bale per day...and if Paul isn't around, I have to grab one from the stack, shove it through the skinny barn door, whip off the two very tight plastic hay twine things (all while fending off two hungry annoying cows shaking their horns at me and challenging authority), by myself. Paul came home last night and I coerced him into getting the girls their Tuesday bale (even if it was pitch black out by then), but they scarfed the whole thing down today...so it was my turn for Wednesday. Darn. And wouldn't you know it, the chiropractor is only available as "on call" on Thursdays. Just my luck.
Did someone say hay?