February 2010


 

First Calf

Our First Baby

I got home from getting the kids from school yesterday and the cows were up by the house.  Nothing unusual.  They know they get fed around about that time, so they come up and watch us, getting ready.  They’re quite comical really.  Sometimes they push and shove just like kids, which wouldn’t be so bad if they didn’t weigh 1500 pounds!  But they’re pretty friendly for the most part.

I’ve been walking among them for the last week or so just checking to make sure all is well.  It’s time for them to start having their calves and I want to make sure there are no complications, because living, breathing calves are better than … well, you know.  I’m a little jittery since our first calf was still born less than a week ago.

So we arrive home and everything’s right in the world.  We go inside and not 30 minutes later I look out the window to watch our silly girls still waiting by the fence.  I notice something small and black lying on the ground beside one of the cows and I rush outside not believing my eyes.  Momma is cleaning it up and I say a quick thank you prayer for a fast, easy delivery … and on a pretty day too!  I hope the other 13 are just like that! (16 cows, 1 unbred, 1 still born, 1 on the ground = 13 to go and I’ll keep you posted!)

Advertisements

Ok, we didn’t make the hay … we bought it … for woohoo!  How much?  It was pricey, but it’s good hay.  Our hay man delivered it and even fired up our tractor to rearrange what we had left so he could get the new hay in the hay pen.  Yes, the hay pen.  We had to put a fence around the hay so the horses couldn’t get into it.  They would rather eat the hay in the hay pen than the hay in their feeder.  Same hay … go figure!

Makin' Hay

A sad day in this farmgirl’s life. My beloved old friend, my horse, my Joe, has passed on. I’d had him for over 14 years and he was almost 28 which is gettin’ up there in horse years.

I secured the buckle on his halter and rolled up the lead.  Sadly, I retired it on the wall of the barn in it’s place. The lean-to is a cold and lonely place without him.

A fine friend that will be dearly missed. Happy trails, old friend.

Ridin' Joe

Joe in the Sunset