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Hi Everyone,
Farmers are who we are, and farming is what we do—and no two days are the same. Life is always an adventure and you never know what a day may behold.
Chaos in the Milking Parlor
Last Sunday morning while Mom and I were setting up to milk we heard a noise in the yard that sounded a little strange. We were not sure what it was at first. Then a little later I saw a cow walk across the yard in the dark. What we had heard was her pushing down the fence to climb over in order to get out of the pasture and into the yard. I grabbed a flashlight and a bucket of feed and went to somehow lure the cow over to the milking parlor—she had taken the short cut to the parlor instead of coming in with the herd. When I reached the cow I realized that it was Ella. Thankfully she was very interested in the bucket of feed and easily followed me to the milking parlor where she became my first cow to milk. Ella is usually my last cow to milk, and America is my first—yes, I totally believe in America First! Poor America didn’t know what to think when the other three cows came in and I had to push her back because her stall was already full. When Ella left, then Abby knew that she was second, and then Rosa knew that she was third, and Bonnie knew that she was fourth—and they all barged in faster than America. Once I was done with Bonnie then America was finally able to make her way into the parlor. It ended up being one of those times when “the first shall be last, and the last shall be first.”
Monday morning Clayton and I started training lessons with Blossom and Anne. They are both first time heifers (cows that have never calved) and they both come into the milking parlor just fine—but you cannot tie Anne in (for she goes crazy) and Blossom will not use the exit (instead she barges back through the entrance wire and keeps breaking the hot wire and stretching out the spring). Clayton is very good at working with training the heifers—thanks to his strength and determination. So he decided that it was time to train Blossom to go out the exit, and I decided that it was time to train Anne to be calm in the parlor when tied in. The first thing Clayton did was put a halter and rope on Blossom so that he could easily lead her in the right direction—at least that is what he and I thought! While Clayton was able to use the rope to pull Bonnie and Rosy into the milking parlor when they were in training—Blossom was a different story. She is a little cow, but when she plants her feet—SHE PLANTS HER FEET! Clayton did manage to get Blossom to go out the exit, but instead of going down the sidewalk she jumped the hot wire into the wrong section. The attempt to get her back into the exit area resulted in her jumping another wire and he just had to let her out a different way.
When I was done milking my cows, I brought in Anne and decided to tie her in—but before I could get her rope tied behind her she put herself in reverse real fast. To my delight the knot at the end of the rope got caught on the boat cleat on the railing and brought her to a stop. Anne then headed back up to the trough to eat. I went to tie the rope correctly, and she put it in reverse again. Thankfully the knot was still caught and once again she came to a stop. Back and forth she went each time getting a little bit more frantic, and I never got the chance to shorten the rope. Then she backed up and the rope sagged down low enough that it knocked her feet out from under her and she found herself sitting on the rope swinging a little. I bellied over in laughter and Clayton turned around to see what in the world was going on. There was my cow curled up in a ball being held up by the rope. Anne set there for a little bit then she did some cow-robatics and leaped to her feet. I finally was able to get her tied in properly and she finished eating.
The next day Anne came into eat shortly before Blossom was done eating. I didn’t think about tying her in because I was in the middle of milking Ella. When Blossom finished eating Clayton untied her and grabbed the rope on her halter so that he could lead her out. There was a slight bit of commotion, and Anne decided to leave running into Clayton and Blossom which caused Clayton to get his toes stepped on. Anne then came back into her stall, but since I was milking I was afraid to tie her in just in case she fell down and ended up sharing the space with me. It wasn’t much longer before she backed out again, but this time it gave Blossom the push she needed to go in the right direction and Clayton and Blossom headed out the Exit and Anne left shortly behind them and then Blossom left down the sidewalk with great haste. The first thing Clayton said when he got back from his escapades was, “and why was Anne not tied in?”
Wednesday was another flop of Blossom jumping fences, and Anne refused to come in. On Thursday Clayton was able once again to lead Blossom out the Exit and down the sidewalk. Success truly is sweet! On Friday we noticed that Blossom’s face was swelling due to the halter. It just wouldn’t fit her properly. Too loose and it falls off, and too tight and she cannot eat—but we were having a hard time finding the balance of “just right”. I think that we readjusted the halter three times, but come Friday we realized that we just had to get it off—but Blossom refused to come in. Papa and Clayton chased her round and round—but Blossom continued to refuse to come in. Clayton ended up praying asking god to please help him to catch Blossom so that he could get the halter off—and shortly afterward that is just what happened. We never did get Blossom to come into the parlor, but she stood still for the halter to be removed and we had pity on her and took her a bucket of alfalfa pellets.
Saturday found Clayton still determined to train Blossom to use the Exit and the sidewalk—but he had no halter or rope to direct her. So he had me stand to block the Entrance (with the handle open so that if she got past us she didn’t stretch out the spring or break the hotwire. He then let Blossom out and got beside me to block the Entrance—but Blossom put her hard head on my knee and gave one big push and I gladly stepped out of her way and let her exit through the Entrance. Truly I was standing where the strong man should have been standing. Then this morning I was still milking my cows when Clayton let Blossom out and he got in the Entrance and when Blossom ploughed through him he tackled back and turned her around and she went out the Exit, but instead of heading for the sidewalk she headed to jump over the hotwires. Clayton darted past her and turned her once again and she made a quick exit down the sidewalk. Out of seven days we had three successful exits out the exit and down the sidewalk—I am sure that she will learn to use the Exit without help one day. Now I just need to work on Anne some more.
Heading South
Have you heard them yet? Wednesday night I was walking over to the milk house cooler to get some bread for dinner when I heard them—the Sandhill Cranes that is. It is always a sign that winter is coming and fall is here when I hear the cranes making their calls over head as they fly south for the winter.
The Food Pyramid
Mom has been designing a new garden bed since early last spring. We have named it “Martha’s Vineyard” because it is where the grape vines will be planted. The firsts four feet around the bed will be for flowers, and then there will be a fence line where the grapes will be planted in a border that goes all the way around the garden bed leaving the middle section of the garden bed open for planting vegetables. Each section is in the shape of a triangle. We spent Monday preparing the first triangle for planting the first batch of onions. Clayton, Mom and I spent about an hour or more measuring out just where the rows would be and where the walkways would be. Geometry was nobody’s forte! Once the sections were marked then Clayton and I worked at filling the beds with composted chicken manure, woodchip/mushroom compost, and wood ashes. Then I broadforked them and smoothed them all out and the next day Mom planted close to 100 sweet onions. Since the garden bed is in the shape of a triangle, when we added the walkways and the planting beds the area reminded us of the Food Pyramid.
Making Broth for Future Use
Once the storm past a week ago we made a BIG roasting pot full of two gallons of beef broth—well, it was supposed to be two gallons but I cooked it way too long and I ended up with less than a gallon. That gallon was as gelatinous as jello! On Monday night we put another batch of beef bones in the roaster in the oven over night. This time they didn’t cook as long and we got two gallons of nice broth. Then on Thursday Clayton and I canned up the broth. Clayton was eager to learn the canner and asked how I learned. I told him that Mom had taught me, but that I wasn’t sure how she had learned—but it wasn’t from YouTube because Mom was canning for many years before that was even invented. I remember when I was a child there was a local cannery in town and people took there produce there and the volunteers helped them get things set up and once you had all your goods in your jars then the ladies canned them for you and you came back later to pick up your canned goods. Then one year the county decided that a Volunteer Fire Station was more important for that place than a cannery.
Gobble-gobble gone!
While Thursday morning was spent canning broth, I spent the afternoon weeding, Steve and Mom spent the morning and afternoon measuring out the location and putting in a few posts for the next row of grape vines in the Martha Vineyard, and Clayton split the remaining pile of logs into firewood. As the work day came to a close there was one chore left to do—march all the turkeys up to the poultry kitchen. Usually we round the turkeys up into the cattle trailer and drive them up to the poultry kitchen and let them hang out there for the night. Papa just got the cattle trailer freshly painted and a new floor put in—and he didn’t exactly want to let the turkeys “break it in.” So he decided to park two hoop houses behind the poultry kitchen and then we would all walk the turkeys through the pastures and up to the hoop houses where they would spend the night. Turkeys, Ducks, and Geese can all be herded—but chickens scatter like water on a basketball court. Thankfully Papa’s idea went very smoothly, and it didn’t take very long at all to walk the turkeys to their new “hotel” for the night. Friday morning we got our chores done and then at 10:30 the Tavernari family showed up to get things set up for our Turkey Day! The turkeys had enjoyed life on the farm for the last 16 weeks, and their “one bad day” had arrived. They had been fed kefir for extra protein just about every day, and along with bugs, weeds and grass their diet was substituted with an organic feed that was free of corn and soy. We had hoped to start processing the turkeys around 11:00, but Papa’s tractor bucket arm had broken the day before while he was stacking some hay rolls that had been delivered—and the welder arrived around 11:00 to fix the tractor. So we did get a late start. We only had 37 birds to process and it really did go smoothly. Turkeys are totally different than chickens—and we usually work in teams of two to make it easier to handle the birds. We all had to agree that we wouldn’t want to butcher turkeys every week—chickens are much easier. By 5:00 the birds were chilling out in the cooler and the building was all cleaned up. The Lord had allowed us once again to provide turkeys for people’s Thanksgiving meals.
Sometimes that is just what you need!
I will say that Saturday afternoon Mom and I spent relaxing and taking care of customers. Papa made deliveries and Clayton headed over to visit a friend. When he got home he asked how my afternoon had gone and I said “lazy”. He said, “Sometimes that is just what you need!” He was so right, for truth be told there is always something to do, but sometimes you just have to turn a blind eye to the “To Do List” and take some time to refresh.
I hope that you have a very Thankful Thanksgiving!
Serving you with Gladness,
Tiare