22 March 2024

A Record Sort of a Day

I started out the day by breaking a nail. It split clear down past the quick. Not usually a big deal. I came in when I had time, trimmed the nail down, put a bandaid over it so the part of the nail I couldn’t trim wouldn’t catch.

Then we had to pull a calf.

The calf was huge, The heifer was a big framed girl, plenty big enough to have no trouble with any but the biggest calf. This was the biggest. I needed more than the one hand I had gloved to get the straps on. The thick front legs were squeezed so tightly together it was all I could do with both hands to get the strap over the second ankle. Pushing the strap up the leg the nail caught on something. The straps finally caught. We pulled. She strained. She went down. We let her out of the chute, then followed her continuing to pull. The sun shone down on us as big white flakes of snow drifted down around us. Outside with room to move around we were able to free the calf.

A giant head, thick shoulders, and wide legs gave the calf a strange look even before he stood up.But he was alive and working on getting up.

Then after lunch another heifer was starting to calve. And another. At the same time, claiming the calf born earlier in the day without any help. They needed brought in and separated, Then we watched and waited. The progress was quick at first. Water bags out then feet showing. Then nothing. Balancing that need to get in there quick enough to help and keep the calf alive and waiting long enough to give the heifer a chance to stretch and have a chance to have it herself is tough. The first one I think we waited too long. On the second one, who had started working on calving a little later, the timing was about right.

The first one was laying in the corral and didn’t want to get up. Weak with trying combined with a wonderfully quiet temperament. She laid quietly while we hooked up the straps, catching the broken nail with every try, and pulled the calf right there in the open. It made life much easier. Then she jumped right up and went to licking her giant calf. Maybe it was more quiet than weak. This calf looked just like the other. Thick neck and shoulders, huge head.

We left the calf in recovery position with his mama licking on him and went to pull the other heifer that was waiting.

She needed run into the chute. The pull wasn’t awful. The nail was busy doing it’s usual, worse now after being bent around so much. The calf was the same. Big head, thick through the neck and shoulders.

That was four calves on heifers in one day. One of them without assistance. Three pulled. With the one other heifer calf born this year that’s five heifers calved this year, four of them needing pulled. Not even slightly decent odds. Hopefully the rest of the heifers are easier. I don’t know what went wrong with these calves. Last winter was a hard year on bulls. There was only one of the older bulls left over, the rest were young and untried. At least there was no way this is from my Hereford bull. He wasn’t with the heifers.

It was the worst possible day to break a nail.

But it was the best possible day to have my husband by my side. Those really good men out there need to be fully appreciated. He never once lost his patience, he never yelled or got short with me. He might have cussed the cows a little, but that’s understandable. He strongly dislikes cows but was willing to help with them anyway because they are important to me. He is strong and skilled and willing and gives me more grace than I know I return to him. Together we kept three very difficult calves alive and never did stop liking each other even.

Category: Cows, Family, It's a God thing | LEAVE A COMMENT
12 January 2024

Breaking Ice

The weather went from pleasant, in the thirties and sunny, to miserably stinking cold.

School was canceled. Everything was canceled. The light dusting of snow never did stop. We eventually ended up with a few inches of dry dusty powder. None of that means the kids get to stay inside.

Nothing spoils an other wise pleasant day like coming in exhausted to bored energetic children. So they get to go out and play when we do. Besides, it makes chores so much more fun.

They chose to stay behind and play outside yesterday while we went to break ice in the evening. It seems like they should be old enough to stay home alone for short periods like that. Apparently not, especially with the terrible influence of the movies they’ve been watching. Trying to be like their favorite characters, one of the children, who wishes to remain anonymous, stuck her tongue to a metal bar. She managed to get free on her own without too much damage, but the evidence was there. A sore slightly bloody tongue and an odd frozen white spot still there on the bar the next morning.

No more Christmas Story for them.

We got to see the spot her tongue left when we went out this morning to break ice.

On our way out we stopped and gave the horses some extra cookies. They deserve a little extra to keep them warm in this cold weather. The heated waterers were keeping up just fine. Then we fought our way across the corrals to the unheated tanks.

Half way across the children collapsed to the ground. They couldn’t go any farther. The trek through the snow was more than they could handle. They took turns pulling each other up then collapsing on top of each other.

After that bit of rest rolling around in the snow they were rested enough to carry on.

Once we reached the cows I left the children to break ice while I gave my pet cows some cake. Soon the children let our cries of distress. The fork part had fallen off the pitchfork. It sank away to the bottom of the icy cold water tank. The three of us stared forlornly into the depths. We could see the tines down there, just sticking out of the muck.

With the handle and the ice breaking bar we fished around, stirring up the muck. I took off my sunglasses and handed them to my son to hold. Peering into the depths I could see a little better. Fishing around I hit it a few times. I also dipped my gloves in the water. Shaking out the icy water I went back to fishing.

Pretty soon a bare hand reached into the water in front of me. My son had decided to get the ice out by hand since our pitchfork was dismantled. I yelled at him about playing in water while it’s below zero. He put his gloves back on. Then continued to pick up ice chunks with gloves on.

Luckily the fork caught on the handle and I was able to slide it up the side of the tank. It was just about to break the waters surface when something else splashed into the water.

My sunglasses, forgotten by my son as he amused himself clearing ice, had fallen in. In that split second I pondered all my choices in life. What choices had I made that brought me to this terrible cross roads? We needed to fork to keep the ice from freezing a foot thick in this weather. I needed to glasses to survive the bright sunlight reflecting off the blinding snow. I might be able to stumble back to the house with my eyes closed. Why weren’t the glasses floating. Shouldn’t they float? They didn’t They sank clear to the bottom as I hung tightly to the fork.

Maybe we could fish them back up the same way?

My hands got soaked reaching in for the fork, but I wasn’t going in up to my armpit digging for my glasses. So I fished some more with the fork handle. And actually found them! They came up in a clump of moss and muck. I plucked them out, wiped off the ear pieces and tried to wipe the lenses. I didn’t have enough dry places to get them clean so I peered through icy frosted lenses. It blocked the sun even better.

At the next tank we held the fork by hand and scooped ice out. My sons gloves froze quickly to the metal guardrail fence as he climbed over. We all gazed on very impressed until he yanked them free, leaving chunks of glove behind. At least it wasn’t anyone’s tongue.

My husband came and rescued us in a heated vehicle making the trip home much more pleasant. Once inside we pealed off layers and laid gloves out in front of the fire to thaw. They need to be ready to break ice again in just a few hours.

 

Category: 8, Cows, Family, Goblin Child | LEAVE A COMMENT
1 November 2023

Halloween ’23

Halloween is over. Come and gone once again. For us that means the whole month of October. It’s my favorite time of year and can never last long enough.

I can’t possibly fit everything in. It started with festivals, an eclipse, moved on to our Halloween/pumpkin carving party. The kids all ran so fast and played so hard that I didn’t even get pictures of my own children. The weather turned perfect for it. 8 organized a pumpkin hunt, then ran so hard, with so much enthusiasm leading it that he lost a good number of his participants.

We did a wonderful chili feed and hay rack ride with our church. Again, beautiful weather and a great time with friends. We even stopped by the lake on the way home,played in cat tails and admired the beautiful trees.

There has been nothing cuter than our kittens twining about the pumpkins.

Then it got really cold. My pumpkins froze solid as did everything else. But we dressed up warm and did one haunted house. As the children disappeared into it ahead of us I thought how nice it was that they were getting so big. Never thinking about the one tiny one among them. He came out crying and terrified. Poor thing. The older ones begged to go through again. I was happy to oblige. Nothing like a good haunted house.

When Halloween day finally comes it’s always a bit bitter sweet. The month is over. Fall is done. No more kicking through crinkling leaves. No more pumpkins and beautiful decorations.

But, we jumped in, ran full tilt, squeezed every drop of enjoyment there was to be had from it. The school trick or treating through the halls. I always get in to watch the kids come through. Then supper at the church and their trunk or treat. Finally down the streets of town.

There’s nothing like a small town Halloween. We know everyone so as children disappear into houses we stand on the streets and wave. Groups of children meet up, greet friends with happy shrieks as the faces under masks are revealed. Then they run off together for a few houses before parting ways.

By the end of the night The Goblin Child had morphed from a fairy to Sherlock Holmes and I think we have next years costume figured.

Once done in town we head into the country and stop by the houses of friends. With only the few expected visits they give out loads of candy. Visits get long. The night gets late. Once home children collapse into bed but are to wound up to sleep. This year school will come bright and early the next day.

This year it means one more day of dressing up. The theme is western. That means mostly just the normal clothes. except for one. The Goblin Child gets out her most treasured shirts. Shirts made by a friend in Australia special for her own daughter then sent to us once out grown. They almost fit her perfectly now. And she asks if she can top it off with one of my buckles. We dig them out and she looks carefully to decide which she wants to wear. Looking at them is bitter sweet, to keep with the theme of the holiday. Almost twenty years ago now. They’re getting old. How can that be?

I had wanted to get back to showing again so bad as the kids got older. Then we started doing tricks and it isn’t even on the radar now. It’s fun to relive the past, but I wouldn’t trade it for the current.

 

Category: 8, Family, Goblin Child | LEAVE A COMMENT
4 September 2023

A Day At The River

We got to spend a rare afternoon at the river with good friends yesterday. And even more unusual my husband was able to escape and join us.
It was the perfect day. Miserably hot, cooled beautifully by the cold river water. There is no phone reception down there so my husband wasn’t bothered by the usual phone calls every few minutes. We got to enjoy piece and quiet.
The kids bounced and screamed in the deep water under the water fall. They found a huge trout in the shallow water. I walked up to see it too and shrieked as it swam at my foot. No more doubting their story about the big fish. They floated down stream, allowed beyond our careful watch for the first time to explore a little on their own.
Us adults soaked and rested and occasionally played in the deeper water too. Two of us shrieked as we saw the trout jumping up the waterfall. One of those was a grown man 😉 It appeared briefly feet above the water as it climbed up stream.
As we stood together for a moment, my husband and I, my friend said wait, hold still, I’ll get your picture. We gathered one child and called the other.
Nothing more clearly shows this child’s personality and the story of our lives with him than these pictures.
Category: 8, Family, Goblin Child | LEAVE A COMMENT
19 August 2023

The Best Gifts

Some men buy their wives flowers. And maybe the type of wife who wants flowers is naturally drawn to the type of man who buys flowers?
I never have been a huge fan of cut flowers. I’d rather see them growing happily still on the plant.
Luckily for me my husband is the type who gives much better gifts. Even with his tendency to give good gifts the one he gave me yesterday was above and beyond.
My allergies are killing me. I spend my days sneezing, eyes watering, very attractive all the way around.
One of my favorite cows was sick. Black Betty, after the song which gets stuck in my head every time I say her name, has been happily raising a couple of bottle calves. She went from a wild range cow to a pet this spring after loosing her calf and getting a new one to raise. She is big and sweet and I was very worried about her.
I had locked the little bunch of cows she is running with in the corrals but there was a impenetrable barrier between her and the chute I’d need to get her in to take care of her.
The weeds in the lanes and corrals are well over head high. Clouds of yellow pollen billow from them at the slightest touch. If I tried to pass through them I would die. There was no chance I could bring her up to the barn.
My husband does not like cows and is working hard to get the wheat harvest finished. He put off getting started combining to take the children and together, bring Black Betty up to the barn.
The 4wheelers were turned yellow from their coating of pollen. Even my non-allergic family were coughing and sneezing. But they got her up.
I waited in the barn, which had taken climbing through some weeds to get to. I cleared spider webs out of the way and got the cute ready. We gave her the recommended shots and turned her back out into the wall of weeds.
Then he hurried off to the combine.
It may not seem like much. Running a cow in to the barn. But to me it was the best gift he could have given. Betty seems to be feeling much better today.
A gift of time, which is in such limited quantities, spent doing something you hate is such a valuable gift. I will treasure it always.
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8 August 2023

11th Birthday

Larely, while the Goblin Child has been happily riding around ON her horse, she has been saying how nice it would be to go on a trailride. I point out that she is in fact currently trailriding.

That doesn’t count of course. She wants real trails, beautiful and scenic and somewhere she has never been before.

We have two horses. Three of us. There are trails nearby. But getting there and figuring out the logistics is daunting.

Finally it occurred to me that we could manage that. Fort Robinson isn’t that far away. They offer trail rides. One of which goes up into the buttes. She could have her trail ride and I could get a bit of revenge. Don’t like riding your horse here at home? Here, how do you like these trails 😈 as we climb the steep terrifying buttes.

It rained all night long and we woke up to a cool damp morning. I was worried they wouldn’t be giving rides.

Telling the kids we had to get some shopping done I drug them out of the house. We drove through the town with the stores and out the other side. I thought they might be engrossed in their tablets and not notice where we were going. Instead they were happily looking out windows. And still never questioned that we had passed the store I had said we were going to.

Pulling up to the fort we were supprised to see a neighbor of ours get out and beat us to the ticket line. She was signing up for the next available traileride for her kids. We signed up for that one too. Plus a jeep ride to fill the time between.

The goblin Child had texted one of her friends about something completely unrelated. It was a huge surprise when the friend texted back that she was at the fort, and they, she and her family, were going to be taking the same trail ride we were!

Wow, what a small world.

We toured one of the museums. Took our jeep ride. It was very pleasantly cool in the open top jeep as we wound up the buttes. Lunch in the restaurant, buffalo for everyone! Then it was time for our ride.

The trail horses were the usual tired, bored with life, and sick of people. I got a big raw boned sorrel who came with the warning to watch him and not let him bite the horse in front. My son got a cute little bay roan, rabacino? who walked so nicely right behind. My daughter got a long lanky grey who fell in line next to her friend. They were clear in the back of the line.

We started out across the gentle rolling hills. I fell into conversation with the girl leading the ride. She was a horse girl, of course! who also loved her milk cows. We had a lot to talk about. I remembered to look back and check on the children once in awhile. Every time I did my horse took the opportunity to reach out and bite the lead horse. Then we started climbing. The trail went straight up for quite a ways. The horses panted and climbed dutifully upwards. We stopped occasionally to let them rest.

The trail was mostly wide and not terrifying. Not even to me who is terrified of heights when horseback. A couple of places got narrow on steep side hills but we all survived. It made me think how nice it was not to be riding out flabby out of shape horses. They would never have made the climb. At the very top of the butte we stopped to admire the amazing view, and let the horses breath a bit. I took the chance to get my phone out and get the few pictures I did get. My horse took the opportunity to bite the horse in front of him.

Then it was time to start down.

At first the trail was gentle, winding down along the sides of the hills. Then it took a turn straight down. Holding my breath and tensing I let my horse know how terrified I was. He stumbled a little. I forced myself to breath, deep and regular. Then made muscles relax, as much as I could. I thought about how embarrassing it would be to insist on getting off and walking. On a guided traileride. On a horse who had packed all sorts of non horse riding tourists in sandals and shorts down this same hill. That was enough to make me stay on. Each slip on a loose rock made me gasp and cling tighter to the saddle horn. Each time we brushed against a sharp yucca I was sure it would be the last straw that made him take off bucking down the hill.

Not surprisingly, we made it to the bottom without incident.

Back on the gentle rolling hills I was able to breath again. To check back on the children riding behind me. My horse too the chance to bite the horse in front of him.

We all survived the ride. My son was exhausted. All that long slow was a lot more work than zipping around on his little mare in the yard. My daughter had a great time coming up with stories with her friend. They had decided on the worst case scenario for the ride. Her story goes like this:

Your riding along on your horse and the horse gets bit by a rattle snake. That makes the horse buck. You fall off the horse, over the steep cliff we were riding along. You get impaled on a tree on the way down. A mountain lion comes along and eats your legs as you hang there. Then you catch on fire!

Luckily, none of those things happened. But think how fun if they had.

She enjoyed the ride greatly, but doesn’t think it would be worth it to work on steering her own horse so they could go do it together. It was more fun on a horse she could just sit on.

Dang kids.

Category: 8, Family, Goblin Child, Horses | LEAVE A COMMENT
31 July 2023

Crop Dusting

They’re flying, spraying the corn today. Corn root worm beetles are eating the silks. The spraying isn’t done lightly or often. It’s expensive. I hate to see it. No one ‘wants’ to do it.
I also can’t stand to stay in the house while they’re flying.
It’s part terror. I grew up watching La Bamba. I’m always sure a plan is going to crash on my head, or my house. I have to know where they are, so I can run away.
And partially fascination. Those guys are crazy. He’s going UNDER the power lines! It’s amazing to watch that skill level. Going under or over, he misses the lines by a foot or two.
Sometimes they don’t miss. I have good reason to be afraid as they fly over our house.

 

Category: Family, Farming, Horses | LEAVE A COMMENT
5 May 2023

Hail Like Snow

My dad has been here visiting for the last few days. It’s been great.

But I’m glad he left. Or at least glad he left when he did.

Mid afternoon clouds began to build. Thunder rumbled in the distance. It started sprinkling lightly. No big deal. I went out and played with horses. The laundry even finished drying.

Then the lightning started for real. We sat outside and watched. The lightening was coming to the ground, it looked like just over the hill. Then it started to rain for real. The kids blew bubbles and chased them in the rain. Giggling and wet. Then they shrieked with joy as a few hail stones pelted them.

The joy occasionally turned to pain as large stones hurt!

Eventually the fun wore out. It had been hailing for a long time. Some of the stones were big! And still it hailed. It would come in sheets, heavy and hard. Luckily there was no wind even though the clouds circled and swirled overhead. I stood and watched, texting friends, taking pictures. Fascinated by the storm. Then I realized my feet were getting wet. The water rushing down the road like a river was also filling our door step. Hail stones splashed in the river that was our road.

The sprayer kept fertilizing. He had been going all day. The fertilizer needed watered in anyway. In the beginning we hoped the rain would be enough to soak it in we now hoped wouldn’t wash it away. He came flying through the yard once. I thought he was giving up. But no. He was just moving on to the next field. A little hail wasn’t going to slow him down. Not until he finished the job.

Once the rain and hail stopped for a few minutes 8 and I went out to explore. We looked at the cows, then saw white hills in the distance. They were white, looked like they were covered in snow. We saw the water flooding through the corrals, coming down from the white hills in the distance. We drove over to see the snow. Needed 4wheel drive to get through the inches of hail covering the road. Stopped to look at the waterfall of water rushing over the road.

We had been lucky to miss the worst of the hail. As bad as it had been at home I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like so close but so much worse than we got. Our first real rain of the year and what a rain it was. Outside it’s still coming down. At least it isn’t hailing any more.

 

Category: Family, Farming | 1 Comment on Hail Like Snow
30 December 2022

Weaning

First there was a bad back keeping the job from being done. Then there was the forecast for bad weather. No need to add more stress by doing it with a storm coming on. Then it was the storm, even worse than predicted. Two weeks worth of blizzard and frigid temps. No way to get anything done but survive in that weather. Then pens and lanes full of drifts left us wondering how to even get the job done?

It needed done and that was that. Where there’s a will there’s a way. We had to get the calves weaned.

With the usual places full of snow we had to find new places. A different lane, a different approach. It worked. Mostly because it was not as full of snow. The cows wanted out desperately. Large numbers of them sorted themselves just by running out the gate once it was open. I felt bad disappointing them. They didn’t get to go on through to the pasture on the other side. In time we will get them back out of cornstalks. Cows like the corrals, when they also get to chose to leave.

We brought a few at a time up with the 4wheelers. When I sat a  moment on mine and no wind blew, I was able to catch the scent of something. What was that? I sniffed my gloves just to be sure I hadn’t touched something untoward. Not my gloves. It was only occasional that we were still and together. Most of the time I was on foot quietly moving cows about. It’s such a fun conversation to have. Hello old girl, yes you. You can go by me now. Some go confidently, past and out the gate. Others need to be reassured they are the ones you really mean. Yes pretty girl, you can go, no, not the one behind you. Go ahead now.

Then I’d be back on my trust green mount to move the cows to the new pen or get a new batch, and there was that smell again.

Finally I was able to place it. Warm cat pee. How, pleasant. Did someone mistake the engine for a litter box? Nothing for it but to ignore the fragrant aroma and get the job done.

Soon all were sorted. Calves on one side of the fence, cows on the other. It has been well shown in studies that calves are most stressed by separation from their mothers. More than from the medical necessities performed on them. Weaning over a fence allows them to be together, just without the milk. Calves dove right into the feed we filled their bunk with. The cows were looking for their breakfast.

My daughter got a special gift for Christmas this year. Her heifer from last year lost her calf. She loves the heifer and didn’t want to let her go. Not even with the option of choosing from among all the other heifers, after they calved to guarantee a calf. That set her back quite a bit in building her herd. My daughter loved our little yellow bottle calf from this summer. I had told her no, she couldn’t just have a calf. They are expensive and she needs to learn what it takes to build a herd on her own. But, having lost her first calf this summer, I felt bad. Marsh Mellow could be hers.

But, that means she has to help with her. We weaned the last of the bottle calves off of Popcorn too. The kids came out and helped push them through the round about rout we had to take to get them to the others. They did a great job. That left two calves behind that hadn’t been nursing. Pitiful and runty, I wanted to leave them up front so they didn’t have to fight bigger calves for feed.

We got the bottle calves calves out with the others. The children ran ahead to play in snow drifts. I walked home while the guys cleared more snow.

I saw it from a distance. The dog wasn’t up that far yet, it couldn’t be her. Besides, even from the distance it had a very calf like appearance. So what was it doing on top of a snow drift!

One of the calves left behind had been left by himself for a brief time while we got others sorted. Apparently he didn’t approve! He had climbed the snowbank. Pausing only long enough for the required pictures I rushed to get him down where he belonged before he got hurt or stuck.

In the house later my son asked if I had seen the calf on the snow drift! I told him I had, and had put him back where he belonged. Nodding sagely, my son said “so did I”.

Oh dear. Hope we will be able to keep the calf off the bank now that he has found this great new play ground.

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25 December 2022

Merry Christmas

We got the best present this morning. It was thirty five degrees when we went out to feed! Snow was melting on windshields and everything started right up without even being plugged in.

We did open our presents first. The cattle and horses have plenty of feed, they aren’t waiting anxiously. No reason to rush.

Bones, black kitty, is back outside where she belongs. Our daughter was holding her the other day and said a bug crawled off the cat onto her. She killed the bug, but there wont be very much cuddling until we can get to town for flea control!

Grey and white kitty quieted down amazingly through the snow. Once he discovered other kitties were getting fed, and the food wasn’t so bad he warmed right up. He is a strange kitty. I was trying to show him where I had left food. He attacked my hand, full on with claws and teeth. Then started violently rubbing against my arm. He may be crazy, but that’s my kind of crazy. Especially when I am fully dressed for winter and safe from his aggressive displays of affection.

The horses got carrots, my pet cows got cake. The rest of the cows got a cows favorite present, lots of food. We are cutting them back to normal rations, but it’s still exciting to get food.

We bought ourselves a flour mill for Christmas. I walked through the garden yesterday, looking for the sweetcorn we had left behind. We’ve always thought it would be fun to grind our sweet corn into corn meal. Two stalks still held ears of ornamental corn. The rest was picked bare. Deer had been sheltering behind the lilacs. Rabbit tracks covered the ground. Far better to feed the hungry animals with the remains of the garden. Who needed corn meal anyway. The sunflowers are picked clean too. Their heads barely above snow level. Now, barely into the bleak midwinter, what will they eat for the rest of the cold? I hate to have the easy pickings gone already.

Squirrels have been everywhere. We see them constantly on the snow drifts. They’re venturing far from the safety of the trees to gather kernels of corn left from the feeding of the cows. Pheasants are everywhere as always. A grouse wasn’t quick enough to evade the hawks. They feasted on her alongside our driveway. Hawks need to eat too. Bald eagles sit in the trees of the windbreak. The cats better be careful.

One calf died the first night of the blizzard.So far that seems to be the only loss. There were a couple of days we just could not get to the bulls to break the ice in their tank. They had feed and shelter. Just not water except for the snow. After the wind stopped and we could see enough to dig to them my husband took a chainsaw to the ice in their tank. He cut out thick blocks. Ten inches of solid ice in those two days. One bull is not going to be ok. He got frost bite in the most unfortunate of places. Poor guy. That would make two losses from the blizzard. Death isn’t the only way to lose cattle.

Christmas is good. Work still needs done. It is the work I want to be doing. The posts about thanking the farmer for not taking any days off, working on holidays and bad weather, always seem odd to me. What else would I want to do? This is the life we chose. This is what is good. Coming back in and sitting a bit is good to, but what would one do with a full day off anyway?

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