The Scream that Echoed through the Canyon (eh, pasture is more accurate but not as dramatic)!

They say “You can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl!” Well, in my case, it’s more like “You can take the prissy girl into the the country, but you can’t take the prissy out of her!”

This morning, I was dutifully emptying the frozen straw which was supposed to be an insulator for the chicken water, so that I could replace it with fresh, dry straw. I cleaned it all out and began scooping straw from the floor of the barn to put into the base. So far, so good, right?

Well, as I was smoothing out and positioning the second handful of straw, I felt something that wasn’t straw. It was then I saw what I had touched (thankfully, my work gloves were on!). It was a dead mouse/rat! I screamed/screeched! And…I don’t mean a little scream! It literally echoed around the back pasture, off of the houses and the side of the barn!

Immediately I thought, “My neighbors are going to think someone died!” I gathered my wits about me and got a pitchfork and lopped it out of the bowl onto the ground and proceeded to pick it up (still with the pitchfork, mind you!) and heave it up on top of the manure pile. Of course, it rolled all the way back down to the ground and do you know what? I LEFT IT THERE!

The whole way back to the house, I could still feel where my glove had touched it and it really grossed me out, but I SURVIVED!

Sometimes my parents comment their wonder at my chosen lifestyle. As I little girl I was “Little Miss Priss” and this dirty and hard farm life sure doesn’t seem to follow! However, it works for me, for the most part, that is! But, there are just a few things I can’t handle!

Oh, I’ve been pulled into the mud by a stronger-than-me calf. I’ve been pooped on by a stubborn calf who I was trying to push from behind. I’ve been sneezed on by Jersey and the snot went flying…ON ME! I’ve been bitten by the electric fence, run over by a cow and the list goes on…but those disgusting rodents are something I just can’t handle!

I’m sorry I don’t have any pictures to “pretty” this post up with….but I definitely did NOT have my wits, OR my camera with me during this encounter! All I can say is “A dead mouse/rat is better than a live one…and I am VERY thankful for our VERY EFFICIENT barn cats, Ollie and Gandalf, who, by the way, will eventually have their own book about their jobs here on the farm.

Have a great day!

Farm living: life and death

Let’s be honest! Farm life is hard. Rewarding but hard! Especially when the circumstances are beyond your control….like the pasture being too wet for the cattle to be in it during the spring, and a heat wave once they can get in and start eating which means it stops growing! Top that off with a bad growing year for hay so, the year we have to feed hay all summer long…it costs a lot!

Yes, there are many rewards for living this good and hard life…the joy of caring for animals, the ability to know where your food comes from…literally knowing what that animal put in it’s mouth every day of it’s life and that you know it was raised with respect and in the most healthy way you could raise it. Living close to the earth and being dependent God for the outcome of your labor is a very humbling, and yet, wonderful way to live. However, there are some real hardships, circumstances that are beyond your control, which call your faith into play…the WHY you do what you are doing.

This post, I’m sorry, will not be one that tickles your funny bone and gives you that “good feeling” that a lot of my posts about the farm may do. It is with a heavy heart I write that I lost one of my layer hens this morning. I have no idea what happened, other than I heard her body expel her final breath while I was in the coop feeding them. It crushed my heart.

The death of our animals/critters, even after five years here on de Good Life Farm, is still so unsettling and heartbreaking to me. Even the planned “one bad day” deaths are difficult for me to deal with, but the unexpected ones just crush me.

The first death we experienced here on the farm was Heidi, Hershey’s mom. We brought her here to give Mocha companionship because she was so lonely being here on the farm without her mom, Jersey. Mocha cried day and night for days, so Jeff decided to search Craigslist.com for a friend for her. He found a lactating Jersey whose personality was described as being “more like a pet.” When she arrived at the farm, it didn’t take long for them to become best buddies.

Heidi gave us Hershey, our first beloved Angus/Jersey cross steer, but she died a year later before giving birth to her twins, from a disease we couldn’t have known about beforehand and one which began in her body before we even brought her here to the farm. Watching a massive animal die in front of your eyes…one that that has become part of your “family”, when what you were expecting was to celebrate the joy of new life, is pretty heart-breaking and devastating! The feeling of sadness and helplessness was overwhelming!

Then a few years ago, a weasel or mink took our entire flock of layers in two nights, including our sweet rooster, Griffin, who died doing his best to protect his flock. Now, I’m not a “chicken lover” but I greatly appreciate the beauty and diversity of the chicken breeds and I love gathering their eggs, besides the asset they are to our pasture and cows.

Other losses we have experienced were meat chickens through the summers, and although it makes me sad, because of their make-up and the heat of the summer, it is somewhat to be expected. We have lost cats we had hoped to make a good home for, who because of their upbringing ran away rather than trust us.

And, then there are the calves that we raise for beef. I am fully aware when those precious babies are born, that in about two-years’ time, I will have to say good-bye to them as they fulfill their purpose. Raising the calves is probably my favorite thing here on the farm. Jeff frequently has to remind me that I am not their mama…but, I bond with them from the moment they are born and spend time each day, loving on them, just hanging with them and making sure they are getting everything they need. I spend time training them to be led on a lead rope so when they weigh 7 or 8 times what I weigh, I can have some control over where they go.

People have said “You shouldn’t name them”! Are you kidding me? Would knowing them as “254” or “ABC” mean that I would love them any less, or be any less emotionally attached to them as I care for them each day of their lives? NO! So, I may as well give them a cute name befitting their cute personality! It means that truly, they are given the best love, care and respect that I can give them for EVERY day of their lives except for their “one bad day” when we load them on the trailer, knowing they are completing their destiny by providing food for our family and others who choose to buy their meat from us. So, amidst tears (sometimes cried over the previous two weeks, or longer), we say “good-bye” and “thank you.”

Yes, I have a very tender heart, but it’s more than that. I give these animals the very best care that I can give them while they are here and maybe what hurts me about the unexpected ones is trying to figure out what I could have done to prevent that death. I find joy in the mundane, monotonous day in and day out routines of the farm chores. But the days here are anything but dull and mundane to me!

So, when you think of me, or read my funny and wonderful stories about life here on ‘de Good Life Farm’, please remember there are many tears shed amidst the bursts of joy and laughter. And…thank a farmer for doing their best to provide you healthy food for your family!

SAD UPDATE: Before I could get this edited and published, discovered another death in the chicken coop this morning. Hope I can educate myself and figure out how the predator is getting in and out so that it can be remedied before dusk tonight. This is a hard day!

(I will add pictures later…my computer is spazzing and I just want to get this posted.)

Spring Brings Dreams Come True

spring grass in the pasture

There is something so wonderfully refreshing about the first sprouts of grass in the pasture, first fragrant buds on the trees, first perennials to push through the unfrozen ground, first fat robins in the grass finding the first worms who dared show themselves, and many other signs of newness. The seemingly endless winter has been chased away and the drab non-color has been replaced with vibrant greens and other colors named only in a crayon box!

lilac buds just emerging
daffodil dirty from the hard spring rain

However, there is another new thing happening here on the farm that brings me much joy and excitement as this dream nears becoming a reality: my book “My Name is Mocha” has been accepted by a small traditional publisher for publication. I can scarcely believe it! My love of writing is so deeply a part of who I am that the idea of being able to hold in my hand a book that came from my heart and to be able to share that book and my love of the subject of that book (Mocha) with readers nearly takes my breath away!

Although I have not yet signed the contract, that will happen as soon as all my questions are answered and I will finally embark on this new journey to a dream come true. As I look around my farm, there is so much joy and activity to write about; the difficult task is being able to narrow down and focus on just one thing at a time!

For example: we have just been notified that our broiler chicks have hatched and shipped and will arrive in the next day or so. They are so adorable when they arrive and there are a million stories that pop into my head as I watch them scurry around the brooder box. Watching the antics of the calves in the pasture brings smiles to my face and joy to my heart! When we let them into the new pasture for small increments of time to enjoy and acclimate to the new grass, I love watching their excitement as they realize their good fortune. I love running around, laughing like a crazy woman trying to round them up when their allotted time has expired and watching them try to outsmart me and get a few more chomps of the new grass before resigning themselves back to the barnyard.

All of these activities and many more, bring stories to my mind so quickly that I’d have to have a brain-recorder just to capture them all! So, I am hoping that if you enjoy reading this blog, that you will eagerly anticipate the release of my first book “My Name is Mocha”. This is a journey I am unfamiliar with, however it seems I must thrive on doing things that stretch me. I was not raised in the country and yet it’s here on this farm, being a milk maid and a cowgirl that I have found my place!

So, please, if you will, watch my posts and share this journey with me! I hope you will enjoy the ride…and the book when it is finally in print! I have already begun my next book of stories of the farm called “The Tales and Tails of de Good Life Farm”.

“Little Big Mouth” and her Arrival in the Pasture

Caramel and Snickers

If you have followed my farm stories for long, you no doubt remember reading about our last calf who, when just hours old, bolted through several electric fences and crossed the road before Micah tackled her on the edge of the cornfields. If not, you can go back and read “She’s Here….And She’s Off” that was written last October. That same calf “Snickers”, when being carried to the barn shortly after her birth as we do with all calves born in the pasture, belted out the loudest cry I have ever heard on a newborn calf. She earned the nickname “Little Big Mouth” on that day and she has lived up to it many times in her short four-month life.

A week ago Tuesday, she said good-bye to her mom, Caramel, and joined her Aunts Hazel and Truffle and her Great Uncle Oreo in the pasture. Now, this isn’t the first time we have been through this process. Normally, in fact with all other calves before Snickers, three days has been the magical timing of when they decide their situation isn’t going to better itself and they may as well just shut up and make the best of their current situation. But, this calf again has made a name for herself and lived up to her nickname.

Snickers’ arrival in the pasture
Oreo, Hazel and Truffle watching in curiosity as Snickers joins the group

She mooed for a full five or six days and five nights….most of that non-stop! Caramel responded in duet with expected moos for three of those days, but conforming to our expectation that she would settle down in three days, she was contented after that. But, Snickers (LMB) kept it up…till she was hoarse! She would go over and eat hay with the other calves and then go back to the area of the pasture nearest the barn and start her complaining all over again.

Then one night, after she had begun to settle down, a neighbor’s dog evidently got bitten by our electric fence late at night and was yelping so loudly I could hear it through my closed window. Well, Snickers decided that was her cue to begin her song of woe once again. Thankfully, when the dog quieted down, eventually she did as well.

The other funny thing that has happened in the pasture since she arrived is the older calves have each “adopted” one of the calves as their protector/babysitter/trainer. When Hazel joined them several weeks ago, I expected her sister, Truffle, to take her under her wing and be her buddy/surrogate mom. However, it was big, sweet and gentle Oreo who became his niece’s buddy and babysitter.

When Snickers joined the calves, I was also hoping that Hazel would be a comfort to her because they had played together in the corral quite a bit and seemed to really enjoy playing with each other. However, Hazel stood and observed this noisy little creature with near disdain and a quizzical look as if to say “WHAAAT IS YOUR PROBLEM???? This pasture was a pretty peaceful place before YOU arrived!!!” It was Truffle who then seemed to have the patience and desire to help with Snicker’s acclimation to the group. Several times I have gone out to the pasture and they were standing two and two…Truffle and Snickers in one place and Hazel and Oreo in another. There are times that all four of them are in one place, either around the hay bale eating, or in the shelter for the night but this pairing up has surprised me.

Snickers, enjoying stretching her legs and running around in the openness of the pasture

I think she is slowly becoming one of them but Oreo, as sweet and as gentle as he is, still finds ways to let Snickers know he doesn’t really appreciate all the chaos she has brought to the pasture. I have observed him several times chasing her away from eating near where he was eating. As much as I don’t like this, I have come to realize it is part of how the calves establish the hierarchy of the pasture and I must allow them to work it out, as long as someone is still able to eat, drink and sleep without being bullied. Sometimes I wonder if somehow Oreo knows that Snickers is Caramel’s daughter and is paying her back for how Caramel bullied him when she was at the top of the heap in the pasture. If you remember, he was the one who broke through the fence and happily ate from the neighbor’s clover field when Caramel kept chasing him away from the hay. Guess what goes around comes around!

the calves learning to co-exist

“Here’s Spit in your Eye”

I am sure you have heard the phrase “spit in your eye” or “here’s spit in your eye”, but have you ever LIVED it, bovine style? Normally that phrase means something derogatory or disrespectful but not in this case!

Tonight, after milking Mocha, I went around to all the stalls to strain the hay out of their water (a long story…) and when I went in to strain Mocha’s water, she swung her head around toward me just as she hawked her throat…and PLOP! In went her spit right into my eye! Imagine the timing and the perfect placement for that to happen!!!

Now I don’t know if you have any idea how slimy bovine saliva is…but let me say I could tell there was a film on my eye that needed windshield wipers to clear it off! Had it been an animal other than one that I am totally in love with, it might have really bothered me….but if you have been following my stories very long at all, you know that Mocha is my favorite cow on the farm…probably my favorite animal, so I immediately dismissed it as just one of those hazards that comes with working with animals and not an overt, disgusting, deliberate act toward me!

I have to say that I have encountered, accepted and even become accustomed to many things that my before-farmer-self would never have dreamed, but this was not one of the events I could have predicted! Manure, yes! Smell/odor, yes! But never would I have guessed getting spit in my eye by my favorite girl!

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