Not The End as in the end of this blog or the end of a book or the end of an era.
No I mean The End of chores. Another milking time is done. Calves are fed, cows are milked, and everything is cleaned. Tidy. Sprayed, scrubbed, and put away. The clatter and hum of the pump is quieted. There's the clank of metal pipes as cows reach their noses through the rails to nab that scrumptious bit of hay. There's the chuff of a contented calf chewing her cud.
And I'm filled with the rewarding feeling of another job completed. Until the next milking anyway.
Friday, October 24, 2014
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
Hungry Calves
Maaaaa! Bellering babies want to be fed and they let me know especially loudly once they see me coming weighted down with buckets of milk. They jostle and nudge each other in a constant attempt to be the first one fed, the one who is lucky enough slurp down the first gulp of moo juice. My multi-colored 'bebbies' are always eager for some attention, especially if that attention comes at mealtime and I'm carrying a five gallon bucket. Head butting, scampering, yelling their hunger-pretty much they sound like kids at suppertime.
As I dump their milk into their feeders, I see reds, browns, whites, blacks, and the odd grey. Our multi-colored calves are the result of cross-breeding and I love our 'rainbow' herd. We have big calves and little calves, hyperactive calves and calm calves, sneaky calves and silly calves. But no matter the coloring, the size, or the temperament, they are all the same at feeding time. HUNGRY.
As I dump their milk into their feeders, I see reds, browns, whites, blacks, and the odd grey. Our multi-colored calves are the result of cross-breeding and I love our 'rainbow' herd. We have big calves and little calves, hyperactive calves and calm calves, sneaky calves and silly calves. But no matter the coloring, the size, or the temperament, they are all the same at feeding time. HUNGRY.
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Slightly New Directions
I started this blog with the intention of posting on daily life on the farm. Well, that didn't pan out like I thought. Mostly since my days are pretty run of the mill and daily posts would read something like "Got up, milked cows, ate breakfast, cleaned house/washed dishes/folded laundry/etc., milked cows, made supper, went to bed." Pretty boring stuff, right? So if I'm not writing about farm life, what does a farm wife/mom write about on a blog titled Dairy Farm Days?
This is something I've pondered for a very long time. If I'm not writing about daily farm life, then where do I want to go with this blog? Do I shut it down? Do I just say Goodbye? Or do I try something new? And if so, what can I do? How 'new' do I want to go?
I thought maybe I could do a daily photo of something on the farm but that idea tanked quickly. First I'm not a photographer and second, I don't have a working camera at the moment. Plus, I really like to write. I just struggle with writing unless I have a topic firmly in mind and I'm not so good at figuring out those. I do best when someone else says 'Write about THIS." So I sat down and listed what I like about writing and topics I could potentially cover. The topics list was short. Pretty much, it wasn't a list since there wasn't anything on it. But the other list was filled with things like describing a scene, making people laugh, using long words because they fascinate me, being sarcastic but in a humorous way. It was a list of things that showed my writing style and my love for words.
I know I'm not meant to write a novel. I've tried and even short stories stump me. I can't come up with plot points, I spend too much time describing the scene and not what the characters are doing, and I get too bored with it far too fast. I don't write poetry because (as my creative writing teacher in college kept telling me) I'm too literal and structured in my writing style and descriptions. (though I suppose it didn't help that he was a free-form poet whereas I like meter and rhyme) And honestly, I don't like writing poetry. I did write a children's book and enjoyed that but I can't see how that could/would translate to my blog since most of my story is told by the pictures, not the words. So I was back to square one.
Until I took a recent walk. As I was meandering down the road, I realized I was creating a word picture in my mind of the scenes I was seeing. And there was my Aha! moment. I could take a mental snapshot of a moment in my day and write a description of that moment. I'd be fulfilling my love of descriptive writing AND I'd be staying true to my blog title for the most part since many of my daily moments are farm related.
So that's where I'm heading with this blog. I'm going to 'paint' pictures with words. I can't promise that they will be good. I can't say how long or short or cohesive they will be. I'm going to simply sit down and write about an instant, a mental image of something in my day and we'll see where this goes.
And with that, here's the first installment.
Farm Sounds.
Clink. Swoosh. Chunk. Whirr. Tap. Shlurrpp. All the different noises of the milkers as they do their job. There's the hiss of the air as the milker turns on, the woosh of the milk running through the lines, the thunk of the pump turning on. It's a comforting conglomeration of sounds that makes up milking. Regular and rhythmic, these noises are like the steady drumbeat of a marching band's bass drum, they are a lullaby that soothes my babies into a morning or evening nap, they are the background sounds that accompany my mornings and evenings. There's the huff of a cow sighing her contentment, the click of her hoof on the cement floor, the shwip of her tail as she lazily flicks it through the air. There's the squishy sound of rubber barn boots on concrete as we busy beaver chore helpers move through our routines, the crunch of a cow chewing her cud, and sometimes the bellow of an impatient and hungry cow letting us all know she wants supper NOW. There is the Baaaa-aaaas and Maaaa-aaaas of thirsty calves, the clank of metal as they jostle against the gates as they see me approaching with a bucket of milk, the crackle and crunch of dead leaves underfoot as I walk to the calf pens, and the rustle of an autumn breeze through the dry grasses is accompaniment to the slosh of milk being dumped into the feeders. There's the rumble of tractors and trucks telling us that someone is off to do something farm-related, the grumble of the skid-steer as it's busily maneuvered around the barn, and the hum of the milking system as it's going through a wash cycle after chores. There's the beep of the computer telling the driver a bale is done and the whirr of the baler opening up. There's the happy yells and squeals as excited children are allowed to join their Daddy in the tractor for a round or two in the field. There's the cluck of chickens as they busily hunt for that one last bug before settling into the coop for the night, the woof of a farm dog as he trees that chattering chipmunk after a quick chase around outside of the grain bin, and the occasional bird chirp, twitter, or honk as birds go about their lives.
And at the end of the day, there's the sound of quiet. All is quiet and calm on the farm.
This is something I've pondered for a very long time. If I'm not writing about daily farm life, then where do I want to go with this blog? Do I shut it down? Do I just say Goodbye? Or do I try something new? And if so, what can I do? How 'new' do I want to go?
I thought maybe I could do a daily photo of something on the farm but that idea tanked quickly. First I'm not a photographer and second, I don't have a working camera at the moment. Plus, I really like to write. I just struggle with writing unless I have a topic firmly in mind and I'm not so good at figuring out those. I do best when someone else says 'Write about THIS." So I sat down and listed what I like about writing and topics I could potentially cover. The topics list was short. Pretty much, it wasn't a list since there wasn't anything on it. But the other list was filled with things like describing a scene, making people laugh, using long words because they fascinate me, being sarcastic but in a humorous way. It was a list of things that showed my writing style and my love for words.
I know I'm not meant to write a novel. I've tried and even short stories stump me. I can't come up with plot points, I spend too much time describing the scene and not what the characters are doing, and I get too bored with it far too fast. I don't write poetry because (as my creative writing teacher in college kept telling me) I'm too literal and structured in my writing style and descriptions. (though I suppose it didn't help that he was a free-form poet whereas I like meter and rhyme) And honestly, I don't like writing poetry. I did write a children's book and enjoyed that but I can't see how that could/would translate to my blog since most of my story is told by the pictures, not the words. So I was back to square one.
Until I took a recent walk. As I was meandering down the road, I realized I was creating a word picture in my mind of the scenes I was seeing. And there was my Aha! moment. I could take a mental snapshot of a moment in my day and write a description of that moment. I'd be fulfilling my love of descriptive writing AND I'd be staying true to my blog title for the most part since many of my daily moments are farm related.
So that's where I'm heading with this blog. I'm going to 'paint' pictures with words. I can't promise that they will be good. I can't say how long or short or cohesive they will be. I'm going to simply sit down and write about an instant, a mental image of something in my day and we'll see where this goes.
And with that, here's the first installment.
Farm Sounds.
Clink. Swoosh. Chunk. Whirr. Tap. Shlurrpp. All the different noises of the milkers as they do their job. There's the hiss of the air as the milker turns on, the woosh of the milk running through the lines, the thunk of the pump turning on. It's a comforting conglomeration of sounds that makes up milking. Regular and rhythmic, these noises are like the steady drumbeat of a marching band's bass drum, they are a lullaby that soothes my babies into a morning or evening nap, they are the background sounds that accompany my mornings and evenings. There's the huff of a cow sighing her contentment, the click of her hoof on the cement floor, the shwip of her tail as she lazily flicks it through the air. There's the squishy sound of rubber barn boots on concrete as we busy beaver chore helpers move through our routines, the crunch of a cow chewing her cud, and sometimes the bellow of an impatient and hungry cow letting us all know she wants supper NOW. There is the Baaaa-aaaas and Maaaa-aaaas of thirsty calves, the clank of metal as they jostle against the gates as they see me approaching with a bucket of milk, the crackle and crunch of dead leaves underfoot as I walk to the calf pens, and the rustle of an autumn breeze through the dry grasses is accompaniment to the slosh of milk being dumped into the feeders. There's the rumble of tractors and trucks telling us that someone is off to do something farm-related, the grumble of the skid-steer as it's busily maneuvered around the barn, and the hum of the milking system as it's going through a wash cycle after chores. There's the beep of the computer telling the driver a bale is done and the whirr of the baler opening up. There's the happy yells and squeals as excited children are allowed to join their Daddy in the tractor for a round or two in the field. There's the cluck of chickens as they busily hunt for that one last bug before settling into the coop for the night, the woof of a farm dog as he trees that chattering chipmunk after a quick chase around outside of the grain bin, and the occasional bird chirp, twitter, or honk as birds go about their lives.
And at the end of the day, there's the sound of quiet. All is quiet and calm on the farm.
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Quirky Cows and Other Tails
Cows may seem like benign farm animals and 95% of the time, they are. It doesn't take much to make a contented cow-a nice fresh grassy patch to graze, a cool drink of water now and then, and a cozy little spot to plunk down on for a quick snooze.
The thing is cows have quirks too. They can be extremely curious. You know that thing that kills the cat? A cow can be just that bad. Go stand out in a pasture of cows and within five minutes, they'll all be gathered round like you are the town crier and have a juicy bit of bovine gossip to share. I've seen them chase any number of birds (including eagles), the dogs, and any other animal that ventures into their paddock simply because they want a closer look. They also like the game Follow The Leader. I'm serious. Get one cow moving in any direction and before long the herd is at her heels. She stops, they stop. She turns, they turn. (This can lead to trouble if the lead cow turns out a gate that accidentally got left open...)
And then you get the extra quirky cows. We have one who thinks the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. It doesn't matter if that other side is the paddock she just vacated or if it's a weed filled ditch. It must be better because it's on the other side. So she goes down on her knees and with her backside hoisted high in the air inches under the wire just far enough to snag that juicy morsel of grass without getting a hefty zap from the electric fence. Smart cow or dumb cow I can't decide.
L has a picture of another bovine who decided to 'dress up' a little. She was inspecting a tire left out in the field, decided it was as good a spot as any to scratch that itch way back on her heck and bloop! the tire slid over her head and she was fashionably at-tired (pardon the pun) for milking with a rubber necklace. (And I have it on good authority that it was easier said than done to remove said adornment. The cow was a little attached to her accessory and didn't want to give it up but she was finally convinced that she didn't need to be prettied up for milking.)
We have another cow who hurdled fences with the ease of an Olympic track star simply because she decided it was more fun to see the humans chasing after her than it was to go into the parlor for milking. Twenty minutes, three fences, two gates, and several laps (both on foot and on an ATV) around the pasture, she decided to take pity on the huffing and puffing chore help and meekly walked into the parlor. Every other year or so, she has to test her jumping ability and see if she can still clear that cattle gate or electric fence though she's stopped leading us on a merry chase.
And then you get the absolutely nutso cows. I mean out-right loony. And not just during full moons...
Last summer, the Craziest Cow in the Herd award was shared by two. The first was a young heifer who decided that even though she was a mom herself, she was going back to her baby days. We kept catching her suckling on another cow and no amount of persuasion (or dissuasion) would make her stop. The second was the cow she was nursing from. That one was due to calve in a few months and somehow decided this overgrown baby was hers. We ended up shipping the younger one because she couldn't quit and we sorta wanted the milk she was guzzling in our bulk tank, not hers. So off she went.
This year, another 'Momma' cow is a shoo-in for the 'Crazy Cow' award. We have a full-grown cow who suddenly decided the also full grown breeding bull was her baby. One day, she ignored him and went about her daily business. The next, she turned into a jealous mother. She spends her day mooing gently in his ear, keeping him safely corralled at her side so he can't hurt himself, and tends to his every need. She doesn't think he's old enough to leave her side for even five minutes which interferes quite a bit with his whole purpose for being in the herd. She's jumped fences, tried to sneak through a wood barricade, and attempted to wiggle under some metal pipes all in an effort to get back to her 'little' boy. We'll see if she settles down once bully boy is hauled away for a few months as we're at the end of our Fall breeding season.
And it's all just another day on the farm...
The thing is cows have quirks too. They can be extremely curious. You know that thing that kills the cat? A cow can be just that bad. Go stand out in a pasture of cows and within five minutes, they'll all be gathered round like you are the town crier and have a juicy bit of bovine gossip to share. I've seen them chase any number of birds (including eagles), the dogs, and any other animal that ventures into their paddock simply because they want a closer look. They also like the game Follow The Leader. I'm serious. Get one cow moving in any direction and before long the herd is at her heels. She stops, they stop. She turns, they turn. (This can lead to trouble if the lead cow turns out a gate that accidentally got left open...)
And then you get the extra quirky cows. We have one who thinks the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. It doesn't matter if that other side is the paddock she just vacated or if it's a weed filled ditch. It must be better because it's on the other side. So she goes down on her knees and with her backside hoisted high in the air inches under the wire just far enough to snag that juicy morsel of grass without getting a hefty zap from the electric fence. Smart cow or dumb cow I can't decide.
L has a picture of another bovine who decided to 'dress up' a little. She was inspecting a tire left out in the field, decided it was as good a spot as any to scratch that itch way back on her heck and bloop! the tire slid over her head and she was fashionably at-tired (pardon the pun) for milking with a rubber necklace. (And I have it on good authority that it was easier said than done to remove said adornment. The cow was a little attached to her accessory and didn't want to give it up but she was finally convinced that she didn't need to be prettied up for milking.)
We have another cow who hurdled fences with the ease of an Olympic track star simply because she decided it was more fun to see the humans chasing after her than it was to go into the parlor for milking. Twenty minutes, three fences, two gates, and several laps (both on foot and on an ATV) around the pasture, she decided to take pity on the huffing and puffing chore help and meekly walked into the parlor. Every other year or so, she has to test her jumping ability and see if she can still clear that cattle gate or electric fence though she's stopped leading us on a merry chase.
And then you get the absolutely nutso cows. I mean out-right loony. And not just during full moons...
Last summer, the Craziest Cow in the Herd award was shared by two. The first was a young heifer who decided that even though she was a mom herself, she was going back to her baby days. We kept catching her suckling on another cow and no amount of persuasion (or dissuasion) would make her stop. The second was the cow she was nursing from. That one was due to calve in a few months and somehow decided this overgrown baby was hers. We ended up shipping the younger one because she couldn't quit and we sorta wanted the milk she was guzzling in our bulk tank, not hers. So off she went.
This year, another 'Momma' cow is a shoo-in for the 'Crazy Cow' award. We have a full-grown cow who suddenly decided the also full grown breeding bull was her baby. One day, she ignored him and went about her daily business. The next, she turned into a jealous mother. She spends her day mooing gently in his ear, keeping him safely corralled at her side so he can't hurt himself, and tends to his every need. She doesn't think he's old enough to leave her side for even five minutes which interferes quite a bit with his whole purpose for being in the herd. She's jumped fences, tried to sneak through a wood barricade, and attempted to wiggle under some metal pipes all in an effort to get back to her 'little' boy. We'll see if she settles down once bully boy is hauled away for a few months as we're at the end of our Fall breeding season.
And it's all just another day on the farm...
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