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Hi Everyone,
It has been extremely HOT this week, but as I write this is definitely the hottest so far. It is 102 degrees, with a heat index of 124. Papa is outside checking on all the animals and making sure that they have some cool fresh water.
I could go in three different directions with this week’s journal. First off—I could not write one, and I think that you would understand and forgive me. Secondly—I could put on my Rose colored glasses, and tell you about my week, but that wouldn’t be fair to those who read my journal because they hope to one day be farmers. Thirdly—I could tell it to you like it is, give you a dose of reality. Reality can be mundane, and it can be bizarre. Our life last week really wasn’t mundane, neither was it bizarre—but in reality, it was hard.
Monday started off normal, but the longer we milked our cows the more life began to spin out of control—at least for Mama that is. She was on the verge of a severe case of vertigo, and it was all she could do to finish milking her cows. We had grand plans for the day—mowing pastures and mulching walkways for starts. As soon as Mama finished her last cow she headed for the house and crashed on the sofa for the rest of the day. I headed to the garden to harvest the okra and do a little weeding. The okra was planted in the East Tunnel—as mistake I made last year, and repeated this year. There is not enough room height wise or width wise in a tunnel for okra—not to mention it is too hot to harvest it in the tunnel (no air flow). The heat was so bad that I almost wasn’t able to finish harvesting the last third of the okra plants. Next I trimmed the sweet potato vines out of the walkways—a Monday ritual in order to keep them under control. Then I could have gone over to the raised bed section of the garden and worked in our Cottage Garden—but I have less than six weeks to have the East Tunnel cleared out of all its weeds and so I decided to start on it. Most of the weeds are nothing more than giant patches of crabgrass that is about three to four feet tall—though all blown over. Mixed in with the crabgrass are lots of Forget-me-not flowers that have gone to seed. Last year I hired “Gumby” to pull up all the spent Forget-me-not flowers because the seeds are pesky little spiny hitchhikers that stick to your clothes, socks, gloves and hair faster than anything. You can see the video here: “Gumby to the Rescue.” It was way too HOT to hire Gumby this year, so I just dove in. Thankfully the seeds did not stick to my dress, and they were very easy to pick off of my gloves and shoes—but concerning my socks, that is a different story. I shall save them for the next time, and the next time and when I am all done I will throw them away. I pulled weeds for close to an hour, taking lots of water breaks and once stopping to go sit under the oak tree. I wish that I could say that I got a whole row weeded—but the grass and weeds are so thick that I only managed to get the bulk of the weeds off of a six foot by six foot area. I couldn’t go anymore, and the clock said 1:00 which meant that it was time for lunch. When I got up to the house Steve had just finished mowing the courtyard, and he was as done in as I was. All I wanted was a cool shower—and I knew that there was no possible way for me to go back outside after lunch. I was done for the day, and once I checked the weather station and saw that it was 98 degrees outside with a heat index of 127 I knew why. Mama was still fighting vertigo—and lunch is her forte, so Papa and I settled for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a glass of milk. After lunch Papa and Steve mowed and used the weed eater around the Poultry Kitchen and house. Steve called it quits at 3:00 and around 3:30 I found Papa crashed in the laundry room on the floor. Soaked in sweat he was too dirty to come inside to the living room, so he lay down on the floor and I got him a portable fan to help cool him off. He then headed for a shower, and afterwards he took a nap because he had a headache. I realized that there was no way Papa was going to be able to go to town—and we were out of cat food. Sunny Boy and Catalina met us in the garage meowing and staring at their bowls every time we entered the garage. So I decided to head to town to get some more cat food. I grabbed a steak out of the freezer and threw it in some water before I left and when I got home it was thawed and I was able to cook dinner in a flash for a steak cooks in less than 10 minutes and then I opened a canned jar of green beans and a canned jar of potatoes and heated them up and dinner was served. Papa’s headache was thankfully gone, and Mama was not as dizzy.
Tuesday dawned another hot and humid day—which means that your clothes get soaking wet with sweat by just being outside (you do not have to do any work in order to break a sweat). Yet, we had a treat Tuesday that we did not have on Monday—a nice cool breeze. We cherish those, and are grateful that our farm is known to produce them quite often. There was more inside work to be done on Tuesday—as I had to bottle kefir and make yogurt, but after lunch we all headed to the barn to clean it up for the first shipment of hay for this winter. We have always dreamed of getting some of the good hay from up north—but never had any connections. Then last week we were told that a friend of ours who used to live in Florida, but had moved to Tennessee, had some really nice hay that he was selling—and he could deliver it to us. We were ecstatic—but we had to make room in the barn first. Have you ever noticed that if an area is set aside for something, and then that something gets all used up—that something else seems to find its way into the empty somethings area? Our barn was built to hold hay—but when the hay has all been gobbled up the barn begins to get filled up with other items, and then when it is time to put more hay in the barn we have to clean it out. One of the things that needed to be cleaned out was a large drying rack full of multiplying onions and elephant garlic. Papa worked on cleaning out the big stuff, and restacking some old hay; while Mama, Steve and I cleaned up the garlic and onions and transferred them to baskets.
There is one lesson that pertains to farming that I am pretty slow at learning—I am not in control! Last year when we had more eggs than we could possibly sell, we thought nothing about scaling back on the amount of laying hens we raised—then the egg shortage of 2022 came into effect and we didn’t have enough eggs to sell to everyone that all of a sudden wanted eggs. Where were they six months earlier? We have been increasing our egg layers since February, and by December, Lord willing we should have 400 hens laying eggs—and Lord willing the people will still be wanting them! Milk is always up and down, and it never fails that when the demand is high the production is low, and when the production is low, the demand is high. When 2023 rolled in our phone began to ring daily with people wanting a family milk cow. We sold 20 in a few months: new born calves for the people to raise on a bottle, weaned heifers because they want to wait a few years before they start milking, bred heifers because they want milk ASAP, and when we decided to swap our herd to 100% A2/A2 genes we even sold a few of our cows in milk. Then . . . just as sure as people were calling to buy milk cows, people started calling and writing us to buy milk. Our customer base began to be added to weekly. We put a halt to selling cows—we now needed as many milk cows as possible, and we were no longer interested in selling the last two of our A1 cows—if a cow gives milk we need it! I can say that they are both old and will not be around much longer—so in God’s timing, not ours we will have a 100% A2 milk herd. Then just when we were trying to make sure that our herd didn’t get any smaller, but bigger—lightning strikes and kills two of our cows. Milk production plummeted drastically overnight, but to our delight two more cows calved and our production increased again. Then Emma got bit by a rattlesnake and while it didn’t kill her, the wound it created on her hoof has crippled her for the time being and she hobbles around on three legs. Out of precautions we decided not to keep her milk until her foot is healed. Still new customers keep signing up weekly, and the milk is being stretched very thin. All year long calves are being born and cows are freshening, and calves are being weaned and cows are being dried off in order to build up their body condition before they calve again. A freshened cow is always welcomed, and weaned calves mean more milk—but not always does a cow need to be dried off at a perfect time. Rosepetal went into heat I do not know how many times last year—and I was therefore constantly moving her due date. I finally settled with an October due date and was expecting to dry her off the beginning of September. Then last Tuesday as I brought her in to be milked I noticed that her bottom was starting to swell, and around her tail was starting to get spongy—all signs that the appearance of a calf is fast approaching. I compared her to a cow that is due in two months—and that cows was still firm. Then I compared her to a cow that is due in three weeks—and they looked alike. I looked at the calendar and it looks like one of the due dates that I had question marked must have been correct—she is due in a few weeks. So I didn’t milk her that morning—being that we have such a high demand for milk, I probably could have gone on and milked her that day, but all I could think about was that she was due in two weeks and I hadn’t dried her off yet. I guess she will only get a two week maternity leave—so I will not mind if she is a week or two late. Losing Rosepetal’s milk made our milk production even less—though our demand is still growing. Our cow Sunshine was due August 4—but as of Wednesday she still hadn’t given birth. Our milk cow Bonnie is due to calve October 3, and it is time for her to be dried off—so she can have her two month break. Since we had to dry off Rosepetal, and Sunshine still hadn’t calved I really didn’t want to dry off Bonnie just yet. So I had a plan! “Dear Lord, if you could please let Sunshine have her calf on Thursday, then she would be ready to put in the milk tank next week, and I could then dry off Bonnie and give her a 6 week vacation instead of an eight week vacation.” To my delight—Sunshine calved on Thursday! YEAH! Then when I was milking Sunshine on Saturday I realized that she has one teat that is pretty cheesy (yucky mastitis)! Will it heal in a week’s time? I do not know, but I realized this morning that Bonnie cannot go another day being milked, so I had to go ahead and dry her off too. So I am once again reminded that I am not in control—God is sending us customers and He knows that they want milk, and I shall have to rest in that.
Thursday and Friday morning we worked at replacing some of the rubber pieces on the milking claws and the inflation tubes. We like to do it twice a year—preferably January 1 and July 1, but I am known to procrastinate and if you ever helped us do the job you would understand why. The rubber inflation tubes are attached to metal tubes and incased in metal tubes and they are a pain to take off. Once on—they are truly there for life—but wear and tear happens and one of the ways to stay on top of clean milk is to keep them swapped in a timely manner. In order to get them off you have to use a knife or a good pair of sharp durable scissors. Then you must stretch them away from the metal tube so that you can cut them, and then they fall out. You cannot pull the rubber off of the tube for it is suctioned on real tight—you have to cut it, and make sure you do not slip and cut yourself. There are 16 inflation tubes (four sets of claws with four tubes each)—and you are worn out after working with just two. I always have to get a man to help me—whether it is Papa, or Steve or whoever we have working for us at the time. Then once the old inflation tubes are off, you have to put the new ones on. The hard part there is that not only does rubber not like to slide off of metal; neither does it like to slide on! Then once you get it inserted into the metal case you have to pull real hard to get the big bubble to come out the other end of the metal case. Let’s just say that no one enjoys the job, and we are all glad that we do not work at a BIG dairy, for our old worker, Eli, told us that they would have to do like 400 of them at a time.
On Thursday we did get a chance to finally dig out the walkways in the West Tunnel and fill them with fresh woodchips, and Mom finally got some mowing done. The hay came that night around 5:00 and it smells so sweet. We took a handful out to the cows for a taste test and they were gobbling it right up and looking for every crumb that landed on the ground. I guess they passed it with flying colors.
Then our lives dumped upside down! I woke up Thursday night at 2:00 with an earache. I was concerned that I might have an ear infection because I remembered getting water in my ear when I had my head under the water faucet trying to cool off. It took me about an hour to get it to unclog—but when morning arrived my whole head hurt, and Mom had a bad sore throat. We were sick! We made it through milking and took care of quite a few customers before I could finally come inside and crash. I didn’t get to crash for too long because we had other problems. We are out of Apple Cider Vinegar, out of salt, and out of minerals—and the shipping is outrageous to get them (close to $700). Then I needed to order another pallet of chicken feed and found that the shipping had gone from $300 to $600. Could we continue to get chicken feed shipped in? We will be out of gallon jugs by Monday and the place we usually get them from informed me that they no longer deliver—we could either come pick them up (an hour and a half away in Jacksonville) or they could ship them LTL. I spent all day back and forth with them by email trying to figure out how many bags could fit on a pallet and how much it would cost to ship. In the end they could only fit 7 bags on a pallet and it would cost a little over $100 to ship them LTL. We were used to paying $60 for delivery. Then to make matters worse, they couldn’t be shipped until Monday—but at least it would just be an overnight delivery. That meant that we would have no gallon jugs until Wednesday—and that would be too late. So it was decided that Papa would drive to JAX on Monday, and if my calculations are correct we can fit nine bags in our van—so that should last a month. Now back to the chicken feed. I wondered who I could hire to go to Virginia to pick up a ton of feed. I even tried to figure out how to find a private freight deliverer—but couldn’t figure it out. Then I noticed that my order had 16 bags of turkey started instead of 8—which pushed my load onto two pallets instead of one. I was relieved, the price of shipping was the same, but I just had too many bags on my order. I fixed my mistake and got the chicken and turkey feed order placed. I still had one more problem to solve—how to get ACV, minerals and salt. I put a call into a neighboring farmer and it looks like I can get ACV from them cheaper, and if we go together we can get salt cheaper too. They have a small feed coop and I can order minerals through them, but I will have to change our mineral brand—and that will take some more research. With all the problems taken care of Mom and I could now crash in front of the computer and watch our fill of Restoration videos of people restoring 1600 to early 1900 homes. With the purchase of our 1915 farmhouse we need all the ideas and advice we can get.
Saturday found us feeling much worse, and trying to breathe outside in the heat and humidity in order to milk the cows was not easy, but before we headed outside to milk we got some work done in the milk house so that we were not in there with Steve while he was bottling milk and washing the equipment. Mama packaged eggs—and for the first time in months we had more than we needed to fill the order. I bottled the kefir. It was 9:00 by the time we were ready to start milking. Patience is not a very strong virtue when you are sick, and it is long gone before we finish taking care of our twelve cows each. I lasted through about 10 cows, and then the heat was too much, I was tired of being pooped and peed on, and when Mom gets done before me and heads inside a little envy creeps in. It doesn’t help that the last two cows I have to milk we have to throw their milk away—it is like working for no pay. Magazines, books and movies paint a picture of milking cows that make people think that it is so “romantic”. I will never forget the day our friend called and said, “There is nothing romantic about milking a cow when you are big and pregnant, sick with the flu, and it is 20 degrees outside in January!” That is reality my friends. People are always shocked that we have to milk our cows every day. The work load isn’t over though when the cows are all milked, and Thursday’s thru Saturday’s are our busiest for farm customers. I found out just how sick I was when dealing with a new customer Saturday afternoon and they were surprised that sugar cane grows here—at least it used to grow here on our farm until Mama had Papa dig up our patch last spring in order to get it out of her new garden bed. Anyway, the customer was asking how the cane stalk gets to sugar, and I said: “Well, you juice the stalk, and then you boil the juice until it turns into syrup, and if you keep boiling it, it will turn into eggs.” They had a good laugh, but I knew that I was ready to just go inside and crash for I had been going strong all morning and I had no more “push comes to shove” to do anything else. Poor Mama was already collapsed on the sofa, and she had no “push” to do anything that needed to be done. I joined her for a while—then I had to get up and push myself to get the dishes done for it was getting harder to fix us something to eat for we hadn’t done dishes since Friday morning (not normal around here). Later there was some more push found to help Papa separate the calves, and then I needed a little more push to cook dinner (chicken noodle soup) and to put all the ingredients in a stock pot to make another batch of chicken broth in the oven overnight—but once dinner was over I had no more push left.
Meals were not of their best for my dear Papa—but he never complains. Peanut butter and jelly and a glass of milk covered his lunch on Friday—when all Mama and I wanted was a cup of broth and some garlic bread. Then come dinner we were not hungry at all. I made Mama and I a cup of Peppermint/Sage tea and just as I poured up my cup and was fixing to add an ice cube so that I could drink it, Papa came in and asked—“How bad do we need milk?” I told him “real bad,” and I offered to come and help (thankfully before I put ice in my tea). I knew that his question was referring to the fact that he had tried and tried to separate the calves but they were not cooperating. When your skin hurts to touch it, and your joints and muscles hurt—walking through knee high grass isn’t the easiest thing to do, but up and down the field I walked with my Papa and together we managed to separate those eight calves from their mama’s for the night so that we could have more milk in the morning to help satisfy our growing customer demand. When we were done and Papa was taking me back to the house I offered to heat him up a fish cake and heat up a jar of potatoes and cook some green peas—but he was so hot from working outside that he opted for some granola. Saturday afternoon I did manage to make him a grilled cheese sandwich, and I made one for myself that was topped with sliced garlic and onions—I need any creative way to get garlic in me. Saturday night we had chicken noodle soup, and Sunday afternoon we ate the soup leftovers. I can at least say that no one has starved.
We didn’t make it to church today, and in all honesty I had no desire to climb out of bed this morning. Thankfully once the milking and morning chores were done—we were able to sit back and rest. I did manage to go back outside for a brief period to water the citrus trees and the plants in the green house. With the temps in the 100’s it doesn’t take long for everything to dry out. Tomorrow is a new week, and for weeks I have had it on the schedule to plant the fall crop of white potatoes tomorrow. I have no idea how I will feel, or if I will have the strength—and I am not sure if the potatoes can wait too much longer. I need them in the ground now so that we can harvest them in November—so that some will be sprouted in time to plant in February. Then the flower netting needs to be hung over the row of zinnias before they get any bigger and a wind knocks them over. Yes, there is always so very much to do on a farm, but sometimes life throws a curve ball and your plans are changed in an instant.
That is the reality of my life last week—and the reality for next week is that we just may not be able to get the mowing done, the potatoes planted, any weeds pulled, or whatever else was on our “To Do List” accomplished. One thing is for sure—we shall accomplish everything that God gives us the strength to do!
Serving you with Gladness,
Tiare