Who’s in the barn?

There was a short week where we didn’t have any morning chores. The cows were in the pasture and the goats had been sold. I’m back to morning chores now. We’ve got the steers that are scheduled for burger and Sweet Caroline in the corral and the rest of the herd in the pasture. That means filling a second stock tank and feeding hay and grain to the boys and Caroline. They all could use a little fattening.

Poor Caroline, she’s been so skinny. I’ve dewormed her a few times thinking maybe that was the problem. According to the calendar she was due to calve in a month but she was just too thin. I spoke with the vet and he came out and gave her a look-over. Diagnosis was slight pneumonia, very nutrient deficient and not pregnant. All around disappointing but fixable. His recommendation was give her some finishing grain along with her hay and some extra minerals. And ween that darn calf!!

The other girls kick their calves off when they’ve had enough. We haven’t had much of a problem getting them to ween when needed. Elwood is a few weeks short of a year. There’s no good reason he still needs milk. Sweet Caroline is living up to her name once again. She will nurse any calf that tries and will not kick Elwood off. That is draining her as well.

Long story short, I’ve been trying to keep the two separated for a good month now. It hasn’t been going well. Elwood’s head is still small enough to fit through the fences and gates. He calls from the gate and she stands there and lets him eat. We had finally been making progress when she was in with the steers.

That all went to hell on Sunday morning.

It was my fault. I should have known better.

Caroline went into estrus and G.W. knew it. She’s already his girl. They are usually side by side all the time. He’s been her protector since she first came home. He was running her up and down the fence line all day Saturday. This caused the steers to run and Caroline wasn’t getting the rest that I felt she needed to get back to normal. So, my genius moment I put her in the barn for the night.

Sunday morning Mike left early for work. Soon after he sent a text. The conversation started like this:

“Are you up?”

“No, whats up?”

“The cows not bad but will need a new gate.”

“Yikes. Ok”

“GW is in with Caroline”

“Holy $#!+ ! I’m up”

Lucy and the gate

Minutes later there I was, bathrobe, barefoot staring down the bull in the wrong pen. The gate was still on the hinges and chained to the post but clearly not functioning properly. It was bent in half-ish and upward.  The 1/3 of a bale ring and smaller gate that was blocking the barn door had been tossed aside and there he stood between me and Caroline.

G.W. and the 1/3 of the bale ring.

I should have known better than to take her out of sight.

The only ones that stayed where they belonged were Lucy and Grace (the donkey). It was obvious that I was not going to get everyone sorted out right away. Instead I managed to get Elwood the unruly calf penned in the barn and let the rest go.

Fast forward through my electrocution by fence and bee hive attack to Monday morning chores. I’ve started playing a new game the cows have made up called “Who’s in the barn?!” I’ll give you a hint, it wasn’t Lucy or the donkey… Six bovine, a variety of sizes and colors watched eagerly through the fence as I opened the barn door that morning.

I may or may not have started swearing.

I love doing morning chores and love working with our cows, but sometimes it can be a little… challenging. I love the challenge though too.

Calmly and with the help of some hay and a grain bucket I got the whole herd out of the barn with the exception of Caroline. Using the mangled gate as a first defense I blocked the run from the corral to the barn. Then, I got smart and turned the piece of bale ring around so that it fit into the corner made by the fence and barn door. I climbed through the ring into the barn and leaned the other small gate across the door and used a lead rope to tie the two together! Let’s see Elwood get through that! Ha! G.W. could destroy my handy work I’m sure but that’s beside the point. I’ll take a win when I can get one.

As for the rest of them, I just said the hell with it and left them to the pasture until Mike could get home and help.

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Lonely Mowing

Clyde and Lyle – Fainting Goats

Last weekend we took a break from the farm and baking and went to the lake. It was a fun, family filled weekend. I turned my phone on once and saw a stack of missed messages in all forms and quickly shut it back off. This was to be vacation and Mike might lose it if I started baking.

Once we were home it was back to work. The goats were to be sold. The ladies that were taking them were there and waiting. The loading of the goats went pretty well. They are all very friendly so catching them wasn’t a problem. Hoisting them into the kennels in their SUV took a little extra muscle. Mike got that job. Hank is a big guy. Lyle, well, he never quit eating, so he had some heft behind him. Sweet little Scarlet and Lily were pretty easy.

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The Making of a Beekeeper

A few years ago, the little boy found himself in the middle of an angry hive of stinging, flying somethings. They were in his shorts and up his shirt, he got it pretty good. The following summer he stayed in the house every time we checked bees.

Fast forward to this summer, curiosity got the best of him. One night I went to check the bees and he asked to come with. “Next time. You need pants and boots and long sleeves.”

We weren’t even finished with supper the following night and he has excused himself from the table and came back dressed to check the bees. Together we built a fire in the smoker. He “suited” up in Mike’s beekeeping hat and gloves and grabbed the hive tool. We hopped on the four-wheeler and headed out for his first hive check.

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Putting Up Hay

Rain, rain, stay away. Come again another day. Papa wants to hay today.

By Friday night we had the first cuttings bales of fresh hay in the loft. I think this was the first year nothing broke and we didn’t have the worry of rain. I should probably write that down because who knows if we will ever be so lucky again. I guess I am jumping the gun a little bit; the hay on dad’s fields still needs to be put up and the sky is looking pretty dark.

Personally, I love haying season. As with anything there are some not so great parts but I do my best to overlook those. Things like a million cuts on my forearms from the scratching hay, the constant heavy lifting in the summer heat, the chaff that clings to sweat and itches and the sneezing and snot. Yeah, haying isn’t always pretty, easy or comfortable. All that aside, it’s great. (Yes, I know, I probably am outnumbered everyone to one on this.)

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A Year to Tend the Weeds

I feel like this should be a post talking in metaphors about how I need to take a year to “weed the garden” and simplify my life or minimalize the amount of stuff in my home. It’s a good thought and both would be beneficial, but not this time. I literally need to weed the garden.

Its official, I’m not planting a garden this year. All of my seeds will remain neatly sorted in their packets and in a zip-lock bag until next year. How depressing. A ton of vegetables, herbs and flowers and all their beautiful potential sitting quietly under my desk.

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