New Life Old Farmers

I got ‘the’ call at 10:02 am yesterday morning.  My Loving Spouse informed me that Our Friend the Farmer had ‘cows calving all over the place’ and as I was anxious to see Mother Nature up close, I needed to stop working on our taxes and high tail it over to the Farmer’s field, which of course I did!

I was a little disappointed upon my arrival, as all I could see where a pack (whoops, a herd) of cows (big fat pregnant cows) standing around breathing out steam.  I was sure I’d missed it again.  Luckily, Our Friend the Farmer came by and pointed out the cow that was mooing loudly, pawing the ground and shaking her head.  She was close to the fence, which was convenient for me as she was one of his more aggressive cows and I was instructed to ‘give her some space’.  Hmm, yes, no problem.  Trust me, the last thing I wanted to do was to tick off an aggressive 1000 lb. cow in labor, which as we know, labor sucks and if there was a simpler way to have kids, we mothers would have figured it out a very long time ago.  So, I watched her get up and down, walk around and moo.  The Farmer went to get hay.

I will refrain from being graphic, but let me just say, that ‘things progressed quickly with the cow’, as evidenced by the sack starting to come out her back-end.  Our Friend the Farmer came back in his truck with a load of hay for the cattle in the next field.  At this point I was elevated to ‘official calf birthing watcher’ and received my instructions.  “The feet/hoofs need to come out together and pointed down.  If they are any other way, the calf could be breech or twisted etc.  After it is born the cow needs to start licking it and especially the head, to clear the sack off the calf’s nose so it can breath.”  I was then given the Farmer’s cell number and told to call if any of those things happen.

Then I commenced pacing… but far enough away to not upset the cow who was still trying to keep an eye on me, and close enough to see all the things I was now in charge of.  Out came what looked like a foot… luckily on the next contraction, it was a bit clearer that there were two feet/hoofs.  Phew.

And then plop…!!!  Out came this little sack of hot baby cow…calf.  Luckily, a warm day, no snow on the ground, but the ground still freezing at night, so not a lot of mud either.  Perfect calving conditions (see how much I am learning)!

Okay, ‘we’re’ out…now start licking…. which the cow did, but… not the head.  She was licking the baby and the baby was trying to get up and it was still in the sack and I’m telling the cow (in my head) come on… lick the head, lick the nose, lick the face… but the cow did not.  Another cow came by to help lick, but still no one was getting the baby’s nose clean and I was getting anxious.  This calf was not going down on my watch, so I called in the expert, Our Friend the Farmer, “SHE’S NOT LICKING THE FACE”… “Okay, I will be right down.”  Big sigh of relief from me, as the head was still not getting licked and I knew I couldn’t help. The cow didn’t trust me and could have hurt the baby more, if I’d even thought about going into the field let alone going near her calf.  Just as the farmer stopped his truck the cow licked the face and nose and the baby tried to stand up.

It was exactly 10:32 am when I called The Farmer…. every thing happened in 30 minutes, so fast!

I really like the cows… There is one cow that is just huge!  I am sure that she has twins….now that I’d really like to see!

I think we might be acclimatizing.  45 degrees feels warm!  The weather has turned beautiful again.  The grey days have passed through, if even for a while. Now the clouds are high and we can see the mountains and hills white with snow that surround our pretty valley.  The birds are singing.  There are so many of them and I enjoy hearing their different voices.

The wood fire is kept going, but without the same urgency as previously.  In fact, The Teen only has to bring in 1 load of wood in the morning before she cooks her breakfast of 3 fried eggs!  The same kid that I have spent 19 years trying to get protein into, eats our farm fresh eggs like they are manna from heaven.  Now we know what the farmers have known for a long time… fresh is better, much, much better.

The snow has melted off and there is a surprising amount of green grass about even if it is not actually growing, it is green none-the-less.  Green enough to encourage a site one does not want to see.  The other morning My Loving Spouse was brewing the morning coffee and I opened the window blind in our bedroom to see our yearling Dixie calmly nibbling on grass by the woodshed.  (In other words, THE HORSE HAD GOTTEN OUT!)  I loudly screamed for My Loving Spouse, who did not come running as he was getting the coffee and as he thought ‘it was just a mouse in the bedroom’.  (Let me specify, ‘a mouse in my bedroom IS a running to the rescue event’  just so we’re all clear here.)  I grabbed a robe and went running out of the bedroom, hollering his name again.  This time he did come running.  I stood before him eyes like saucers, my mouth open like a huge gaping hole unable to speak!  Finally, I waved my arms and stuttered… ‘Dixie is at the woodshed’!!!

He calmly handed me my coffee (good thinking) and said, “Let me get dressed….the last thing you do is run outside all excited, like you, to capture a way-ward horse”.  Mr. Calm (My Loving Spouse) put on some clothes, got some hay and took the girl back to where she belonged.  We then fed them a LOT of hay to keep them put for a while, as we fixed fences for the day.

Doing what we always do on our day off, which is never what we planned.

I had another great, NEW experience today!  I went on my first cattle drive.  The sun was out, and all was beautiful.  I may have only ‘driven’ in a truck, still that is driving and I was helpful.  After all, I opened one gate and stood on one wire fence for a horse that did not want to step over it.  I delivered one cup of hot chocolate and took a lot of pictures.  Sure, they could have probably moved the 300 cattle the 6 miles without me… still….   someone had to drive the trucks and trailers back to the ranch and that someone was…. The Preacher’s wife and I was the someone who kept her company.

Here is Our Friend the Rancher in charge of getting all the cattle out and the people organized.  Yes, he said, the people organizing was the hard part.

Loading up the team…

Cowboys and Cowgirls come in all sizes…

All types of mounts as well as this red mule..

A few hard-working dogs as well…

The horses and riders start pushing the cattle down the hill.

Grandma leads them and keeps them following her as she sits in the back of the pickup, singing a chant to the cows and throwing out hay.

Here they come…

We have been positioned to block a path with the truck and trailer to keep the cows on the right trail…

Then we fall in behind the ‘herd’ traveling down the highway.

Rest stop at the Big Pines rest stop, to water cows, people and horses.

One cow decides to go into the Yakima river and comes out with encouragement, only to get herself stuck in the muck up to her cow knees.  She is too tired to move and finally is left behind.  Our Friend the Rancher will return for her later when she has rested and is able to help get herself out of the muck.

A family event… son (5 years old), Dad and Grandpa…

A LOT of very happy pregnant cows glad to be home.

A yearly event… I’d like to help again next year… and as good as I was at  my job (keeping The Preacher’s Wife company), I would like to upgrade to Cowgirl.  That will mean both a lot more time in the saddle for me and a much bigger saddle for … well, you know.

I did get a very small job working with very small people.  I am a long-term substitute for the Developmental Pre-school 4 afternoons a week.  I only work for a few hours a day, so I am sort of embarrassed to call it a ‘job’, except I do have to remember to go and be nice to people, so I guess that qualifies.

Actually it is not that different from the farm..

Chaos – organized and a bit like herding cats.

Clothing – practical for being adorned with paint (yesterday’s color was orange), side-walk chalk and ground-in fish crackers.

Fencing – the area the children ride their bikes at play time is a corridor of sorts, so two teachers are the ‘fence’, keeping the little two-legged animals ‘inside’ the riding area.  I’m pretty good at fencing, so I have already excelled at this.

Messy- plenty of messes, some that the kids clean up and the others I often tackle and we all know how good I am with a mess.

Noisy – lots of loud crowing over achievements, which is exciting and fun.  Occasional head butting or righteous indignation when one little chick steals another chicks ‘nest’.

Attitude – being firm but loving, as with our horses and just acting like I know what I am doing.

Just another typical day at Glory Farm for me.  I cleaned up some animal poop, I went to watch a calf being born and I started a new job.

 Yep, regular life on the farm.

 Okay, so I missed the actual birth of the calf, as it went very quickly (probably not quick enough for the cow however), getting there just in time to watch the mom start licking her offspring to clean it up.

The licking went on for quite some time, interspersed with looks over at me from the new mom.

Our Friend the Farmer had alerted me that this cow was calving and had pointed me down the road.  I stayed outside the fence to be polite and because the last thing I wanted was to tick off a 1200 lb. protective maternal cow with postpartum.  I  stood by taking pictures and waiting for the little guy to get on his legs and it was really pretty neat.

There was lots of maternal licking…

And he is up for a second….

And then the front legs go down…

And then the back legs go down….

So he tries again…

But after 40 minutes the little guy was not getting the whole ‘getting up’ together.  As official calf watcher, I was getting quite cold.  Luckily for us both, Our Friend the Farmer came back to check on the ‘getting up progress’.  The problem he explained to me was that the cow had the calf where the snow was deeper making the calf’s footing that much slicker.  The more the calf rolled around in the snow the colder it was going to become, which was not good.  The Farmer and his Top Man were going to give it some help and move it to steadier ground.  I was lucky enough to hop on to the back of the truck and get a front row seat on the action.

Into the deeper snow Our Friend the Farmer goes and  grabs the calf by the hoof (not foot, as My Loving ‘Proof-reader’ informed me).  I don’t think the mother cow was too keen on this, but she probably trusts the farmer as part of the herd.  After all, he brings her food everyday and he was carrying a big stick, his trusty shovel.

Baby calf gets a gentle ‘drag’ to less snowy ground, followed closely by Mama.

Okay, let’s do this thing…

The Farmer takes hold of the calf’s tail and gets it standing on his feet, giving him a bit of time to steady himself.

And he is up!!!

Not too steady, but up…

He’ll get warmer quicker up on his feet and out of the thick snow.

Mommmmmmmmm!!!

Then the oddest thing happened.  I had been watching the cows for about 45 minutes.  The mother and baby were off by themselves and the herd was calming doing what cows do… eating and pooping, but they all stayed away from the two-some.  Except, after the baby was up and we were leaving in the truck, all the cows came over surrounding the new mom and calf.   It was almost as if the signal had gone out that said, Mother and baby are out, time to extend our welcome.   I could just almost hear the cows saying, “Oh, Daisy, what a nice little calf you’ve got there!”  Then there was probably a lot of cow ‘sighing’ as they are all pregnant and their time is coming, so I will have another shot at catching a live calving.

We made bangers (sausages) and I don’t mean the royal ‘we’, which we all know means ‘you’.  Like ‘we’ need to change the oil in the car or ‘we’ need to wash more socks.  No, this was the real we,  as in My Loving Spouse and I.  It is handy to actually have an Englishman to help you make English sausage, but not completely necessary.  However, our Englishman was in charge of the recipe, locking in the meat grinder and procuring all the ingredients, so he was/is a pretty handy fellow.

Casings for the sausage to fill are a vital necessity.  Once again proving that you can find anything on the internet.

Out comes Granny’s scale to weigh the pork (5 pounds 1 ounce) and adjust the recipe accordingly.

One loaf of cheap bread toasted, then I was the official ‘grinder’ dissolving it into bread crumbs.  As this was how my mother made meat loaf, I was a well-trained crank turner.

The pork and spices were also given a good run through the grinder along with the bread crumbs.

Getting the casings ready to be stuffed took some work as one must run water through them.  The best way is to attach them directly to the faucet, pretty much like filling water balloons.  So again, we are a somewhat well-trained team.

Sliding the casings onto the sausage stuffer.  I might say the casings seemed a bit slimy, but I won’t, as I have kids that often read this and  I want them to eat these sausages.

More cranking….sausage meat gets loaded into casings.

One happy Englishman with a pile of bangers.

As we’ve been here almost 10 months, it seems that I should have it ‘all together’ and of course I don’t.  Oh, ya, I never will, but I keep trying and sometimes I try hard on stuff that if sort of futile.  There is only so much poop that can be cleaned up in the snow, cold and below freezing temperatures.  The farm truth is that this is a really messy time of year.  When it was snowing, the snow worked pretty well at hiding the poop, but even that only works for so long

Elsie Gump is one happy cow.  She only has to move about 8 feet to go from her feed trough to her water trough and so that is exactly how far she goes.  This of course means she also makes a very big mess in one spot.  I do try to clean this up for her (not that she minds it at all), but I do, so I try to clean it up and scoop it out and add lots more wood shavings and straw to basically cover the mess which also only works for a day or two, but it at least makes me feel better.

I also tried cleaning up the dog yard, because it was gross.  Frozen dog-doo is not too bad as it doesn’t smell, however, it is stuck to the snow so it is hard to get up.  I finally worked out a system where if I kick it with my (muddy farm boots) it loosens enough to be collected.  Since I was working hard, head down going around the yard kicking poop to pick up, I didn’t notice that I was going to ram my head into a snow-covered tree branch, thereby loosening the snow enough for it to fall down the back of my neck.  Yes, it was cold.

I think this is one of those ‘opportunities‘ to practice patience.  (Not really my strong suit).  The frozen farm-yard is a season of yuckiness, I should look somewhere else.  Today there is a pretty blue sky and frost on the trees.  If I look at it, it will serve two purposes, I can focus on the beautiful and avoid running into anymore snow-covered branches.

With all the wild bird life we have here, I often think about how much my bird loving mom would have enjoyed it.  The quail, hawks, owls, blue heron and geese would have had her thrilled, but to see the eagles…. she would have just been beside herself.  The bald eagles come into the valley this time of year for calving season, feasting on the placenta from the new-born calves.

With friends visiting us (hearty Southern Californians who braved the cold for 3 days with 3 suitcases to hold no less than 3-5 layers of clothing at all times) My Loving Spouse took Her Loving Spouse on a drive, so we could have some ‘girl time’.  The guys hit a site about 4 miles from the house along the river bank where 10 eagles were hanging out.  They got to see the wonder of one diving into the river and catching a fish, sailing just over their heads.

We all returned and it was a wonder to me to see them all.  The older ones show off their ‘bald’ head.  I only wish I had a fancy camera with a proper zoom lens to share the site with you with the awe it deserves.  I hope I do not someday take all this for granted, to see all these eagles just sitting in a tree.

How blessed we are to experience such things….

It was quite the day for our goose hunters.  My Loving Spouse said, it was the most fun he has had hunting in years. ( It wasn’t actually so much fun for the geese.)  The day included Our Friend the Farmer and one of his young grandsons who was eager to learn to hunt and get his first goose.  Luckily for the Grandson, My Loving Spouse just happened to have a boy sized shot-gun for him to use.  The hunters have a new agreement, that the small gun will stay with Our Friend the Farmer so he can teach his collection of grand-kids how to shoot, until such time as My Loving Spouse has a grandchild to teach.  Since our kids only have two puppies and a hedge hog, odds are that it will be away from home for some time.  My Loving Spouse grew up bird hunting in England, so I am delighted that he has a new pal here to hunt with.

There were the multiple phone calls to organize the big hunt, the usual questions…

What to wear?  Camo to match the weeds or white to match the snow?  What time should we go?  Early or earlier?

Whatever they decided must have been just right as the mighty hunters bagged some nice geese.  My favorite shot is of the Grandson with a goose almost as big as he is.

Our Friend the Farmer making memories with his Grandson…..

My Loving Spouse took care of Phase One of the ‘after the hunt’ work called plucking and ‘stuff”, which you only want to do for just so many geese.  Phase Two became my job, which is called find someone who’d like some geese.  I did find a fun couple from church and as most married couples who’ve been together a long time, they have their own special language.

I called the wife, “Would you like some geese?  They still have the feathers?”  She said, “Sure.  Can you freeze them with the feathers on?”

The Wife then told her Husband that we were bringing him some ducks.  As he is known to rescue many baby animals he was wondering what in the world he was going to do with a couple of baby ducks to raise.  When we showed up, not with two live baby ducks, but two dead geese, he was quite delighted.