June

We are beginning the transition into summer as the humidity slowly cranks up. 

There are more lightning bugs at night than I can remember from years past.  My colored lights are working to keep the deer away from the daylilies and the first blooms are appearing.  I didn't realize how much I missed their lovely blossoms.

Speaking of deer, they've dropped their fawns in protected fenced pastures and cool woodsy spots.  They give it away by running in front of my UTV as I zip along.  I guess the instinct is to divert potential danger away from the hiding places.  They evidently have no idea how little incentive I have to chase them.

The cows are also doing the reproductive thing as well.  We have three brand new calves that I know about.

I love the way that my cows smell -- milky and sweet.  The other smells of early summer include chamomile, honeysuckle, and fresh mown hay.

The hay sheds are filling up as the "hay conglomerate" gathers big round bales from area fields.

Meanwhile, all my mowers and trimmers are in working condition, allowing me to keep the lawns and grassy areas under control (for now.)

December

It is unseasonably warm.  Daytime temps go from 50 to 70.  We've had no rain in over a month.  Well, unless you count 1/100th of an inch in some places in our region.

I always get edgy when we are in a drought.

Each morning, I stand outside the big barn as the goats go up the hill in single file.  I'm rudely oggling udders, watching for signs of impending kidding.  Our guard llama, Zorio, apes me.  He also stands and inspects the troops.  Then, he follows up the hill, going around to an open gate, as he can't get under the fence opening the herd uses.  He meets up with them and stays with them all day, watching for danger.

Last week, I handled a newborn heifer calf, marveling at nature's perfection.  How is it that complicated biological systems come in cute little packages?  She is tiny, but nursing vigorously, and will likely be a little hulk in a month.

Gracie is in the neighboring pasture, obviously wanting to join the rest of the cows.  She's doing great, but I want her to enjoy the priviledge of grain and hay just for her.  Once she is again in her herd, she'll have to fend for herself. 

Amazing Gracie

I found her accidentally when I went down into the valley to treat a bull calf.  She was in the brush on a hillside near the treeline, curled up in a little black ball.

This was the valley where cows parked calves during the day and that was definitely the case with the bull calf.  His mother visited him several times a day to nurse him then left him to his own devices the rest of the time.  I wanted to give him a shot and band him and we managed to catch him and take care of those tasks.  Afterwards, I noticed the other calf.

It seems that Gracie had been abandoned.  She could not stand or walk and was totally blind.  She rolled down the hill, startled when I approached.  She appeared to be about six months old, but starved and dehydrated, as she couldn’t get to water on her own.

We got her to a flat area near a fenced off sinkhole and realized that she was too heavy to pick up and drive up to the corral at the top of the hill.  Even a group of men were unable to figure out a way to move her with the tractor, so we made her a little pen with a tarp covering to protect her from the sun and rain.  I became her “Meals on Wheels,” driving down twice a day to deliver water, hay, and a small portion of sweet feed. 

Calves have the instinct to run away from humans and other animals when they are young.  It is a good instinct.  But Gracie must have just panicked without the ability to flee.  She was tentative about the feed at first, never having had it.  Soon, she seemed to look forward to the sound of my motor in the morning and evening.  It was a good month before I saw her try to move around the pen.  She was managing to crawl to a dry area under the tarp.  Soon, I’d see her out in the sun beyond the tarp.  However, I wondered what I’d do when rain or snow impeded my driving on the fairly steep hillside.  Although I realized that this was an uneconomical hobby, I really couldn’t bring myself to re-abandon her and let her die.

The bull calf had finally followed his mother up the hill and Gracie was all alone except for my visits.  She let me pet her and rub her curly head.  Her eyes were very damaged, but she seemed to be very good at sensing where I and the food and water were.  She was responding quite nicely.

Last week, Gracie actually was trying to get up on her legs for a few seconds.  The blood circulation must have been cut off after months of lying down.  That was a happy sight, but when she was able to stand up to drink from the water bucket, I was certainly amazed.  I had no thought that she’d ever stand up.

When she began to walk around the pen, staggering in a stiff legged forward movement, I was still more surprised.  After a couple of days, I left the pen gate open so that she could graze on the grass.  She ventured out and began a multi-day climb to the top of the hill.  I’d drive down to wherever she was on a given day and deliver her food and water.  She was visibly exhausted each evening and she just lay on the hill to rest. 

Yesterday, she made it to the top.  There is an automatic waterer there, which she evidently has mastered as she rejected the water bucket.  She’s got hay and feed and will, I hope, continue to improve in condition.  The herd will cycle back to that field in a couple of months and with luck she’ll be reintegrated.

Gracie once was lost, but now she’s found; was blind, but now she (almost) sees.

August

The sun was a red disk when I woke up this morning.  The kitchen is on the Eastern side of the house and I always look out at the sunrise as I grapple about for coffee.  What this bodes, I don't know, but it is unusual.

A slight tilt of the planet has given us the first tugs and pulls of weather change for late summer.  There are occasional days of lower humidity.  We are promised slightly cooler temperatures for the weekend. 

Plants respond immediately to the less roasting temps.  They begin to flower again.  The eggplant on the porch has six lavender blossoms promising fruit.  The pepper plants are also blossoming.  Four-O-Clocks in pots bloom in a variety of colors.  Rose of Sharon and Hydrangeas are also displaying some nice flowers.  The intense heat, however, seems to have negatively affected some plants which would normally be in bloom.  Butterfly bushes, for instance, bloomed early this year but not as spectacularly as in some years.

Meanwhile, in the veg garden, tomatoes are ripening and we've already consumed a good amount.  Peppers are large but still green.  I've processed all the peaches.  Now, apples and figs are ready to pick.  This is keeping me busy in between other tasks.

Our cows have dropped three calves in the last month.  The goat herd, which had a year off from producing young, are cavorting with a borrowed buck who has the status of rock star.  He is always followed by a small cabal of groupies, which changes as they settle.  We've agreed to keep him until October, so there will surely be births during the coldest months of winter.  It will be interesting to see if there are any November births from the last buck.  There didn't seem to be much activity when he was here, but you never know.  Sometimes they can fool you.

Mother, May I?

So, we're into the merry month of May.  The first pale pink peony has opened up.  (I seem to be in an alliterative mood.)  Sweet William is prominent in the gardens and the air is full of the scent of wild rose.  The irises bloom -- each color seems to have its particular schedule. 

The goats are in their annual Spring mania, doing crazy, dangerous things and driving me to my own mania as a result.

In the kow kindergarten, we have six little ones and I have a feeling that there are more to come.  The grass is high in the  low pasture, so they'll be moved there soon.

It's hot and humid at present, although less than a week ago it was near freezing overnight.  Yep, it's Spring.  I've already frozen some asparagus and we had chard for dinner last night.

Crisp and Cool

Click on photo to enlarge.

Rain last night and cooler temperatures this morning -- I pulled out my camera to capture some of the views from my window.  It was almost impossible to take a bad picture.

We've made some progress repairing a couple of old outbuildings this past week, getting the foundations re-poured in preparation for shoring up the walls and re-roofing to keep out the rain and snow.  This will provide more efficient animal housing and storage space.

Dinky, our little Hereford cow had a calf a few days ago.  We drove the mule out into the field to check on cows and came upon the newborn snoozing in the sunshine.  The first day or so, newborn calves do not run away, so we were able to pet and admire her.  I looked up to see Dinky steaming over.  If I hadn't noticed her, she surely would have knocked me over -- she was that agitated over our handling of the new baby!  She's moved the baby into the high brush and is hiding with her for now.  I expect we'll see the baby running with the other calves in a few more days.  There are three others frolicing in the crisp Autumn weather.

Scorcher

"May" rhymes with "Hay" and every year it's a game of dodge the raindrops while surviving extreme heat.  Today is June 1st and the heat is on!

All around us, farmers are making hay.  The weather may cooperate this week, but dealing with equipment malfunctions is trying and delays progress.  Same old same old.

The first golden daylilies are blooming.  Asparagus is plentiful and requires daily picking.  I blanch and freeze as quantities require.  I never got around to planting the vegetable garden, but chard, tomatoes, and beans have volunteered.  The beans have grown to the top of the trellis.  There is much fruit on the trees, but the black raspberries are late this year.

The cows are happy to be in deep grass and the goats are fat and finding plenty of browse under the grass.  Baby goats are growing.  Some are already half the size of their mothers.

I Love Puzzles

My current project is cutting down a large stand of brambles near our front gate. It is a complicated and treacherous puzzle. You could really get hurt unraveling this puzzle.


It's not the first time in fourteen years that I've done this, but I swear it will be the last time! I've got plans to keep this stuff in check. There are lovely perennial bulbs planted there which, some years, are never seen and appreciated.

I work for an hour or just a half hour and then need to rest. This is not for the faint of heart. I'll work outside as long as I can each day and tackle the pruning and cleaning of flower beds during Spring. When the Summer heat comes it'll be all over!

I planted some peppers in the greenhouse yesterday.

The newborn calves run like crazy when I drive down the hill. The interesting thing is that they run to Papa Tom, our horned Dexter bull. He's been known to lay in the pasture with a group of young calves all around him. How do they know he's the pater familias? Is it instinct? He is a lovely boy and I am fond of him

False Spring

It is predicted that we'll be in the 70s today.  Spring bulbs have begun to emerge and I am getting nervous.  If the fruit trees blossom out, we are sure to get zapped when winter returns.

Rain is predicted again, although we've seen precious few raindrops this February. 

All in all, this is the strangest February I can remember.

Two new baby cowies were born last week.  It was good that they were born in temperate weather and got to see some sunshine for their starts in life.  There is no grass growing to speak of and big round bales are being delivered to the pasture daily.

We've been hard at work in the goat maternity barn, getting ready for Spring births.  We put three new storage cabinets together and moved the refrigerator to the upper area near the sink and cabinets.  It will be good to be able to find things with the expanded storage.  If you need a towel or a rag or meds quickly, it will be possible to get hands on stuff.

Today, I'll sweep up and maybe even put sawdust in the birthing stalls.  We'll get some help and move square bales in so that we are ready.  I am fully expecting snow in April -- that will demonstrate that Mother Nature will not be thwarted.

The Almost Great Escape

It took a day for me to recover from my efforts in thwarting the Great Escape. Now that I've had a whirlpool bath and taken massive amounts of Ibuprofen for joint and muscle pain, I can look back on the event and laugh. (Sure.)

If you've followed this blog for any time at all, you know that we own a big bovine called Tinkerbell, who is the ringleader of our cow herd and has an adventurous spirit. She's the one who was found under a big round bale after breaking into the hay shed one year and the one who somehow got into the woods for a summer vacation another year.

On Monday morning, I heard loud mooing coming from the area near the lawn of our house. This is fairly unusual, as cows only moo when they really need to. This time, it was excitement which was responsible for the noise.  Tinkie was pushing down the pasture fence to munch on the uncut grass and was threatening to completely mash down the fencing to get onto the lawn. Other cows were cheering her on and starting to anticipate the security breach. It was a riot -- literally.

The pastures have been chomped down to the ground due to the lack of rain and we'd let the cows roam over three so that they'd have a chance to eat grass as it grew slowly. The lawn, however, has been neglected as far as mowing is concerned, and it was just too tempting.

I quickly got dressed and ran out to yell at the cows to stop. They did not stop entirely and when I went back inside to figure out what to do, they just kept on trying to get onto the lawn.

I picked up a stick and opened gates that would lead to the now harvested hayfield where there are sections of lush grass regrown. I tried to drive the cows out of the pasture near the lawn, hoping they'd see the open gates and circle round to the field. They were confused. Why was I upset with them? Weren't they using ingenuity and initiative to take care of their own needs?

So, realizing that they wouldn't leave off the attempt to free themselves of the pasture fence, I started walking from the pasture they were in through the other three, calling "Come on cowies!" over my shoulder. Eventually the brighter ones began to follow and, well since they are herd animals, the whole forty-five or so cows followed. Once they saw the final gate into the hayfield open they began to run through to the lovely green grass. Our little Hereford, Dinky, kicked up her heels in delight.

Okay. I shut the gate and began the uphill climb back through the pastures, closing gates behind me as I went. Then, I saw the five calves.

Cows "park" calves in safe places while they graze, periodically checking on them and nursing. These were the smallest herd members and became aware of the ruckus, grouped together, and timidly tried to figure out what the heck just happened and, just where were the mammas?

So began a second herding. Calves are instinctively shy of human contact and tend to run away, rather than follow or drive in front of you. It took patience and many arthritic trips up and down those hills before they finally caught sight (and hearing) of the herd. When they grouped near the gate hours later, with their mothers looking anxiously for them, I was able to reunite all herd members in the same pasture.

If you've ever thought you'd like to be a farmer and enjoy the quiet pastoral life, I think it is in the spirit of complete disclosure that you know that some days are like this.

We're Done!

All right, Mother Nature, we're baked. You can turn off the oven now.

I don't know about official temperatures, but our thermometer on the kitchen door has been wearing out the 100 degree mark. Enough is enough.

Rain is forecast for the next week or so. We'll see if it materializes. In these hills and ridges, rain is a hit or miss proposition. We didn't get much the last time rain was forecast.

On the bright side, the tomatoes are developing nicely. I didn't put them in the ground until June, but think they'll be ready to pick before long.

The goats are venturing out even at midday. You'd think they'd stay in the big shady barn, but no -- they have plans as they've progressed to pastures new to them. There must be enough yummy stuff out there to give them the incentive. They don't come back to the barn until it starts getting dark.

I heard a cow in labor two mornings ago and see her with her new calf. Cows have been switched over to the pastures near the houses and barn, where much standing hay is available. They're doing a moderate job of chomping it down. My husband took the opportunity to try to mow the stickweed and dried grass in some of the resting pastures. Stickweed is a nasty plant that NOTHING eats. As far as I know, it has no use at all except to take over where it can succeed against other plants.

Peaches and pears are on the trees but we really need some rain so that they do not just dry up on the trees.

Okay, Mother Nature, you've got your orders. Now, come on and deliver.

Life Goes On

The mud has dried up and the driveway's been evened out.  I am (potentially) free to drive away in to the wild blue yonder.

All the baby goats, except for the last set of triplets and mother, are out enjoying the sunshine.  A big cedar bough that broke off during one of the ice storms was dragged out to the pasture and a large group is enjoying it.  I'll go up into the cedars later with my lopers and hack off limbs from trees that are too crowded.  Won't they be pleased to find some limbs down where they can get to them!  All the cedars and pines on the hill have been neatly trimmed by goats into lollipop shapes because they eat everything they can reach standing up on their tippy toes.  Only the topmost greenery survives.  Actually, they are providing a good service where the pines are concerned, because they will grow straight and tall if the under branches are kept trimmed -- and they are!

There are two new black calves born in the last couple of days.  The cows are lounging in the sunshine.

Roosters are acting amorous -- if you want to call it that -- eggs are getting more plentiful.  I've shoveled out a couple of coops and am mobilized to dump pine shavings in the cleaned coops and nest boxes.

There are turnips and some chard and kale growing in the garden.  The snow cover must have helped.  Seeds are ordered.  The pruning has begun.  We're getting a preview of Spring, and life goes on.

Tinkerbelle's Adventure

Spring marches on relentlessly.

Lilacs fill the air with fragrance. The peonies have their little ball buds and amazingly, flag iris are ready to bloom.

It's been cool and rainy. Fine with me. Seedlings are safe and sound in the greenhouse, developing nicely, thank you. I can see peas, beets, and spinach coming up outside. I transplanted some Oriental greens outside and also scattered seeds in small beds

Baby bucklings have all gone to new homes. The goats were stuck inside much of yesterday because they don't like rain and mud. Again the barn needs raking and new shavings in stalls and hallways.

Of course there's a clutch of little chicks with their determined mommie chicken. You can't get through Spring without chicks, whether you want them or not. She tricked me!

On the cow front, Tinkerbelle -- one of the six belles I received in a trade for an old tractor one year -- Lulubelle, Annabelle, Jezebelle, Clarabelle... -- well, anyway, somehow Tinkie, as I call her, got on the other side of the fence. She has access to the pastures the goats are in and is chomping grass with reckless abandon, ignoring her cow buddies who are somewhat concerned about her independent spirit.

Yes, Tinkie was the cow rescued from under a round bale one year when she managed to get into a hay shed. She recovered and hasn't learned any lesson at all from that experience. Evidently, she doesn't have a new calf currently or there'd be a lot of bawling -- as when she managed to get into our fenced woods on one of her other adventures.

Tinkerbelle's girth belies her name, as she is not fairy-like at all, except for the fact that she has magical powers and can, evidently, fly over fences.

Ah, Tinkie, you embody the non-conformist explorer. You are the symbol of independent thought and innovation. May you grow and prosper.

...but I'll get you yet!

Spring, Sprang, Sprung...

I know, it's been a while since I last posted.

We've been through cold weather, hot weather, rainy weather... since. Right now, we are in a period of lovely Spring weather: cool nights and warm days.

As you can see, the fruit trees are in bloom at the top of the hill and the apple trees down below are budding.

Things have calmed down in the goat barns and we are in a routine. The herd is currently divided into three parts (like Gaul?) as the little kids are too small to successfully follow up the hills and down into the valley. I'd have to send out searching parties every evening to make sure they all got back home safely. In the past, I've had to locate small groups of babies who evidently were taking a group nap when the herd began returning to the barn.

The garden still awaits planting, although my tractor has been outfitted with the scoop to get compost from the big two year old pile. I still need the tiller to be put on so that I can get things ready.

It's been hectic. The weekend before last we did ear tagging and castrations. Last weekend we had an impromptu cattle round-up. It took six adults to cut one large Angus heifer out of the herd and down to the barn and into the trailer. Hopefully, Fran's bred and carrying a nice black calf.

When we got to the barn, there were neighbors delivering a trailer load of square bales. Thankfully friends pitched in and helped by arranging the bales in the loft as they came up the elevator. Thanks, Ginger and Rachel.

Thanks also to Lindsey, Maggie, Rose and Nora for all your help with the baby goats in the past month. It is really appreciated.

We are inundated with eggs: chicken, goose, and turkey. So it's a sure thing that Spring is here.

Who Needs Punxsutawney Phil?

Who needs Punxsutawney Phil to predict when Spring will arrive when you have Sophie the cow? In about nine degrees F, she had a new calf out in the middle of the pasture on the ice. I say Spring is right around the corner, and if the baby can hold out until tomorrow, it will be about 60 degrees and sunny.

What a wild ride February can be.

Sophie is a Holstein cow that I was given as a cute little calf. She was raised on goat milk in a bottle and is now the largest cow in our herd. She's had a calf a year, usually in February, since she was three years old. Holsteins are those commercial dairy cows whose offspring are routinely taken away early so that the milk produced can be pooled and sold. Seldom can people appreciate their wonderful mothering instincts and grasp how sad it is to deprive them of the experience of raising their own young. I will give Sophie a big kiss and perhaps take a picture later today.

Other signs of impending Spring: the Embden gander is escorting individual geese to the goose house to start the egg laying season. He sits outside and waits until they re-emerge.

Over the Hump

We've made it to Solstice, and now the days will gradually get longer and the nights shorter.

I can understand why so many civilizations worshipped the sun.

"It's winter now. The night will be a minute longer. A lot can happen in a minute. Even hope." Kevin Rolly

However the change will be so subtle that most people will be unaware. We're having a very "precipitous" day, with clouds, slippery mud, and chills.

It's hard to keep the barns decent in this weather. Yesterday was the only dry day we've had lately. I'm raking and shoveling while baby goats jump and play all around me. It's nearly as bad in the big barn, where delegations of adult goats keep checking to make sure no food is being given out.

I've been grabbing a goat or two to trim hooves and generally check for problems. So far, so good.

'Guess I'll finish putting plastic on the big windows in the chicken house today to make it as cozy as possible. The ducks and geese are happy for the foul fowl weather. Cows are a worry, but they got a nice, big roll of hay yesterday and seem to still find grazing in the hay field.

Overcooked Dinner

Okay, boys and girls. Who thought that, indeed, a goat would give birth yesterday? If you raised your hand, you were right!

Even though I went and checked on ducklings and goats around 4:30 p.m. before going up and starting dinner, when I walked in the barn at about 6 p.m., there was a new mother bawling in fear and pain. She needed a little help. There was also a goat with her head and horns stuck in the panel between stalls. That required bolt cutters to cut and bend back the metal after trying for half an hour to free her. (Logically, you know if she could get her head through the space, there should be a way for her to get back out.) Nevertheless neither she nor two people could get her out.

Add cows figuring out how to get through a goat baffle into the next pasture, and you have a pretty good idea of how the day went.

The roast was overdone but eatable by the time we got up to the house. That's the way it goes some days.

Phooey!

Remember Pigpen? He was the little kid who could best be described as a "dirt magnet." That's me.

On Monday, I took a shower before going out to do the morning chores. That was a collosal waste of time and water. Before going out, I had to change all my clothing and shower again.

Ten minutes after going out, I was covered with mud and sludge. Since the spring went dry a day earlier, I decided to take a shovel and clean out the sludge left behind in the cement waterer. Optimally, you'd never see the bottom of a spring-fed waterer, let alone clean it out.

The cows were going "nuts" looking for other sources of water. They'd been let into the lower pasture to get some grass. No rain for so long has depleted the supply in the upper pastures. The large cement waterer usually accommodates them very well, so the ball waterer was fenced in for the goats in the small front pasture. I filled two large water troughs for the cows elsewhere in the lower pasture, but they broke the fence to get to the ball waterer.

Last night, we worked in the dark to switch the fencing around so that it was on the "cow side", then got all the cows on their side of the fence. It was a lot of work and stress, but as soon as it was accessible, I realized why the cows were so determined: it was the small calves who came up to drink. Head slap! They were too short to drink from the big water troughs! The cement spring-fed waterer is at their level, but the troughs are just too tall.

Actually, I think that cows and goats are very patient with us humans and have to work very hard to get us to understand their concerns.

There is a "slight chance" for rain today, so I'm going to go out and finish cleaning out the cement waterer. All the mud and sludge remaining is dried out completely. No shower until AFTER this and all the barn raking and messing around in the garden. It has to rain sometime, and that will, hopefully, allow the spring to collect water again and fill the waterer.

Optimistically, this is my one chance this year to get that waterer cleaned out completely.

Think rain.

The Three Sopranos

Popping in to let you all know that the plastic garden (cross your fingers) is doing well. We really, really need rain and there are some clouds building and the perennial "chance" of thundershowers today. (Double cross your fingers.)

We have a new set of triplet goatlings (bucklings) born last week. Mother is very sick and can't stand up to nurse them, so I'm bottle feeding them three times a day. It doesn't leave much time to do everything else. I'm having to milk out the last of what the goats who kidded months ago have left and supplement with store-bought milk. I used up the last of my store of frozen colostrum the first day or so.

I may have to catch a cow -- many have recently freshened with calves -- and get a good supply of fresh milk for these hungry, hungry little guys. I'm calling them the three sopranos, as they greet me with much anxious high-pitched singing...

Mike, I replied to your comment in the "comments" section of the last post. I'm wondering where your farm is located.

Quick Update

Iris are blooming beautifully all over the farm. There is a nice, big vase full in the house, wafting the pleasant old fashioned fragrance through the room. Peonies are just starting to open, as are African iris types. Ditches are filled with purple Sweet William and a couple of Columbines have opened up.

We've got three new calves since I last wrote: Blossom, Persephone, and Daphnis.

Some ducklings and goslings have hatched and chicken eggs and a few guinea eggs are in the incubator.

Lettuces are coming up in the vegetable garden and I continue to harvest asparagus.