He got it from his daddy

Real time on the farm:  here is a keyhole view into what is going on at my house as we speak.  My sweet little boy, "technically" got a 4 wheeler for Christmas.  He got his gift about a month ago so he'd actually have time to use it while it was still nice outside.

Today, when I woke up, he was no where to be found, but I did hear the steady buzz of his little machine running up and down the driveway.  I ain't gonna lie....watching him race around does make my heart skip a beat or two or three.  But, the Dairy Farmer did have a talk with him about safety and he does wear a helmet.  The DF also assures me it has some kind of chip or some such thingamabob that doesn't allow it to go above a certain speed.  Still, he's a boy and he's the Dairy Farmer's boy and the Dairy Farmer as a boy was pretty darn reckless.  I know....I was there on the back of his 3 wheeler holding on for dear life. 

Here is what I saw out my window:

I am actually surprised that it took him this long to fashion a trailer.

Props to Little Tykes.....their stuff is made to last.   My little girl got that wagon when she turned 2  about 100 years ago.



He used bailor twine and hooked that wagon up.  He is running up and down the hill bringing calf buckets to be washed, then running them back up to the hutches and filling them with grain and water. 

This was all his idea.  Homeboy has a Walmart gift card burning a hole in his pocket and he gave up shopping today so he could work on the farm.  God Bless a punk with a good, strong work ethic. 

I am almost 100% sure that when The Dairy Farmer saw him, he had a proud daddy moment and thought, "yep, that's ma boy." 

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A Farm Funny

Since some of us folks around here are products of divorce, our Christmas can go on for quite a few days.  Which is a good thing.  Thankfully, our families understand that our work has to come first and we try to get together as soon as we can, but it won't always be on Christmas Day.  Thankfully, our families aren't the kind that say "We HAVE to see the glorious faces of our grandchildren, bright and early on Christmas Morn as they open each and every one of their presents."  They don't say that.....and we are grateful......and by the way....that's what SKYPE is for. 

So, some of our extended family was visiting on Monday and we had talked about having them come out to the farm.  We talked about this a few weeks ago, probably around Thanksgiving.  Probably around the time it was fairly nice out.  Before the temperatures dropped and the wind began to blow.  Needless to say, the temperatures did drop and the wind did blow and on Monday, it was a pretty craptastic day.  But, they wanted to come see what all the glory of dairy farming is all about.   And, I'll tell you what it's about.....it's about doing your work come hell or high water, come rain or come shine, come holiday or no holiday.  I'm not trying to get you to feel sorry for me.  Well, yeah, I kinda am <cue the violin music>.

They bundled up as best they could.....for they are from the city.  My kids laugh when people don't have "turtles" or "carhartts" or "mucks."   Seriously, when it's blowing around here....you want to have at least 3-4 layers on.  You wanna look like Ralphie's little brother in A Christmas Story.   Because, it's cold, man....and we still have work that needs to be done, whether you're frozen or not. 

Here's the chuckle:   one of our employees was helping me get the milk/bottles ready for calf feeding when he saw the caravan pull into the driveway.  He said, "looks like you have visitors."   I said yeah....we have family in and they want to see what farming is all about.  He said, " ah, it's always fun..... on the first day." 

And, he's right.  Anything is fun........once.  

 You, know....they stuck it out, they weathered the storm and followed us on our "rounds"....milking, feeding and cleaning.  What troopers!    I do think I heard someone say their face was frozen off, but...just  like shit......it happens. 

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The Circle of Life

Christmas came and went here at Brechland Farms (well....we are still "Christmas-ing" with the family- number 4 today with my mom, sister, bro-in-law and the cutest daggum toddler in the whole universe). 

But, on a farm.....the world keeps on  spinning.   Thank you to all who offered up a Peace Prayer for things to go well on Christmas day.  It did...and we were thankful.   We did have a first calf heifer who had some trouble delivering and The Dairy Farmer had to step in.  Sadly, we lost the calf......but that happens and the world keeps on spinning.  I knew not to take any pics or vids, we knew the calf was gone and that is just no fun for anyone to see, but.....look at her support group.  All the girls line the fence and talk in this real low hushed, sort of, rumble.  They knew what was happening and they came to tell her, it's all gonna be ok.  You're in good hands.....or good hands are in you......BA DUM CHA......sorry, had to be done. 

We have a pile of lovely ladies just hanging out ready to drop a calf any minute.  We're expecting about 1-2 a day around here and we are all keeping busy.  Because the world keeps on spinning. 

Hey you dang woodchucks......quit chucking my wood! 

Do you remember this little punkin head?  One of my first posts on Facebook.  Little 2829, the first calf I ever fed.   This was taken February 2009 on my first day of "work" as a Brechland Farms employee.  She was a preemie....couple days early and so stinkin cute. 

And here she is today.  Getting ready to have her very first calf.  Because the world, well, it just keeps spinning. 

 It's the Circle of Life...........oh dear, I feel a song coming on......

It's the Circle of Life
And it moves us all
Through despair and hope
Through faith and love
Till we find our place
On the path unwinding
In the Circle
The Circle of Life.......sing it Elton!

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Happy Birthday, Jesus!

"I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all the people. The Savior- yes, the Messiah, the Lord-has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David! And you will recognize him by this sign. You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger." Luke 2: 10-12.

Merry CHRISTmas to all our family, friends and  blogging  fans.  Enjoy your holidays, be safe and love the one you're with.  As you enjoy your morning yogurt, cereal or my favorite, milk and cookies for breakfast today, remember The Dairy Farmer who works 365 and say a little prayer for Peace on the farm today.  He works every holiday to allow his employees to celebrate at home with their families...and on days when we are short handed and hurrying to finish our chores so we can celebrate with our own family...well, it just seems these are days when all "you know what" breaks loose. 

And while you're offering up a prayer for the DF, say one for Mrs. The Farmer as well.   While the DF is busy doing his work, she is in the house dealing with 2 young punks who are looking at a Christmas Tree full of presents and telling said punks, "please wait for your daddy."  I am pretty sure she says it 150 times a minute.   She tries to occupy them with the traditional gift of the christmas poptart.   These poor kids have been getting poptarts for Christmas every year since they were able to eat solid foods.  Poptarts, in her opinion, are NOT a breakfast item.  We don't often have them in the house, they really are a delicacy around here.   But, her sanity can only hold out for so long.  Dealing with punks all jacked up on Christmas AND poptarts isn't as easy as it sounds.

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SANTA! OH MY GOSH! SANTA'S COMING!

I am not sure if you are aware of this little fact, but in two days, SANTA IS COMING!!!!  I KNOW HIM!  I KNOW HIM!   

This is the real deal, people.  Dress rehearsal is over, you better make sure you're ready!  I certainly hope at this point your stockings are hung by the chimney with care and you've been watching out and not crying and not pouting, cuz the ball is rolling, the clock is ticking, the die has been cast!   The big guy is coming!    This is the real deal, no fake.  This dude does not smell like beef and cheese and certainly doesn't sit on a throne of lies.

Here at Brechland Farms, we do consider it our duty to remind you that our favorite jolly old elf does like to get his drink on.  And his drink of choice is MILK.  That's right.  The white stuff.  Moo Juice.  

All I'm sayin' is:

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THAT'S IT!

I do believe The Dairy Farmer has had it with PA weather.  It is too cold, too quick.  He pulled his boat out of the garage and I do believe he is Florida bound.  Hello, Intercoastal Waterway! 

If you see him heading south, can you tell him we miss him and to please come back...and quick....like a bunny.  He is the meat that holds this sandwich together. 

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39 years ago today....

My best friend was born.   We went to the same elementary school, we lived 1/2 a mile apart growing up, my best friends were his cousins and we tried for years to figure out how I could become a "Brechbill."  He remembers the first day he met me and in jr high, I had a vision that I would marry him.  He was a pain in my ass and made me crazy growing up and I'm sure he would say the exact same about me.  He taught me to tighten up a bit and I taught him to loosen up a bit.   Happy Birthday Christopher, aka Big Daddy, aka The Dairy Farmer and if you look on my cell phone aka My Lovah.   I love you more n Minnie loves Mickey!   

And ps- your levis, work boots and hard workin' hands still make my heart flip flop.   The end.

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Love Languages

A few years back, The Dairy Farmer and I and our besties decided to do a small groupish thing and read the 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman.   If you haven't read this book, I do recommend it, even if you're experiencing calm waters and peaceful seas in your marriage.   Sometimes a little storm does come along and rock your boat, and it's always good to have some Love Language in your back pocket. 

If you aren't familiar with the 5 love languages, here they are, in no particular order:
Words of Affirmation
Quality Time
Receiving Gifts
Acts of Service
Physical Touch

So, basically, you read the book, take a little quiz (which is just as easy as the fun little quizzes we used to take in our Seventeen Magazines when we were, like, seventeen or when we were, like 39 and tried to take the Cosmo quiz, like, last weekend with your BBF and for the love of Pete, could not get through it because you have no idea what the words even mean anymore!)  Seriously, "what celebs moves are you most likely to crib?"  WTH?   I thought "crib" meant your house, your dwelling, your pad?  Whatev......

Anyway- take the little quiz and it will tell you what your love language is, what gets your motor running, what floats your boat, what toasts your bagel.    Now, when your sig other knows what your language is, he/she/it can kinda make deposits in the love bank by doing things that work for you.   Gentlemen, if your lady's language is acts of service.....unload the dishwasher, do a load of laundry, make the bed WITHOUT being asked.......and trust......it will be worth your while. 

What I'm getting at with this post is that when we did it, no big surprise, I am Acts of Service (kinda think most women are) and the DF...well, he through me for a loop.  I was sure he'd be Physical Touch, I mean, he is a dude.  But, he really is Words of Affirmation.  Which is kinda sad for him....cuz I'm his wife and really, I'm a bit snarky.   Needless to say,  this blog and my facebook are all shout outs to my big daddy, because he is most awesome....and he never reads them because he doesn't "blog" or "facebook."    How's that working out for him....well, yeah, not so much.    Chalk that up to a New Years Resolution for 2011.

Now, here is the meat of my post:   The Dairy Farmer knows I am acts of service and he is very good with that (grocery shopping, dishes, cooking) but, the thing that he does that really flips my lid, schnizzles my nizzle, rocks my world......is when he puts my barn boots by the radiator so they are nice and warm when I get dressed to go outside.

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Meet The Fockers

So, remember way back when....or, maybe....like....yesterday, I was telling you about my new interrogation tactics?  Well, I took a video of it.   Now, it was WAY better today, because I had the Dairy Farmer helping me and not the punks.  But, even last night, he went in the pen and ran out screaming, "this is too much, even for me!" 

This is the the maternity pen, which normally has 1-3 calves at time.  It's like a holding area....they normally aren't in here very long.  We prefer to move them into a hutch as soon as possible.  We like to keep them seperate from each other, since they are just like toddlers...always sporting a runny nose and zipping about licking everything and putting stuff in their mouths that just doesn't belong in there.  That is a great way to spread disease, so we think they do better in their own bedroom.   

 The exception to the rule are bull calves.  They hang here for a few days until they go to auction.  We send them on Mondays and Thursdays.   If you are a lover of veal piccata, veal paremsan or veal scaloppini...you're welcome.   I, myself, choose not to eat babies of any sort.    It has nothing to do with veal farming itself.....totally a personal choice (and a mental one at that).  I do not like it in a box, I do not like it with a fox. 

Anyway.....my train derailed.....back on track.  We are out of room and all these Little Fockers are in one pen.  Cute as a stinkin' button, they are.  But, they are wicked mean when they are hungry!   As you can tell in the next video, The Dairy Farmer is trying to feed ONE calf and 3 or 4 are giving him a hard time.  And those stinkers just ate almost a gallon of milk each!   Watch how they start rooting and butting him....it's all an instinct, but good heavens, it hurts.   The DF is crying really....that's why he's keeping his head down.   Gotta keep up his tuff guy rep.    It's ok Dairy Farmer.....the truck is on it's way to take the bulls,  we'll be down 5 for this afternoon's feeding. 

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A Sunday Shout Out

To the hardest workin' punks on the planet!  They were nestled all snug in their beds, when their big ole mean momma came in and woke their scrawny butts up at 5:45am.  She made them put on 15 layers of clothes and go outside in the dark, in the cold, in the rain and help her do her work.   You see, we are at maximum calf capacity around here (yes, again!)  Every hutch is full and they are rooming together in the the maternity barn.  Which means, we have 11 calves all in in pen.   It is most certainly NOT a one person work.   

So, I made the punks get up and help me.   I really think our government is missing out on something here.  Forget water boarding, sleep deprivation or the excessive use of Eminem's music, in my opinion, the harshest form of punishment for those hardened war criminals would be to stick them in a pen of hungry calves.  It's torture at it's finest.  I ain't kiddin, folks.  And, if they were really in a heap of trouble, or you wanted to get some info out of them STAT....stick them in that pen naked!   

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It ain't Christmas until......

The soft glow of electric sex appears in your window.

Oh, look at that! Will you look at that? Isn't that glorious? It's... it's... it's indescribably beautiful! It reminds me of the Fourth of July!

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Real time on the farm....

So, it's cold, we can handle it.   So, it's snowing, we can handle it.  But, the wind.....WE CAN'T HANDLE THE WIND! 

Aren't they the most miserable bunch you've ever seen?   It almost brings  a tear to my eye.  I say almost because about 10 feet to the right is a nice, warm, dry barn.  Idiots. 

Now, this here is another story.  This is what happens when your furnace goes bad on the coldest day of the year.  This is what happens when you still try to keep up with the laundry.  This is what happens when your Great Dane is a big baby.  Wimp.   

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Toot your horn!

One question we are often asked is .....why aren't your cows horny?  To that, I say.....oh, honey.....you have no idea.   

Wait....huh...what?  Oh, horny!  As in.....why don't your cows have horns?  Well, they do.  All our dairy cows are born with little teensy weensy nubbins.  They grow bigger as the calf grows bigger.   If we didn't stop the horniness, well....they'd look a bit like this big girl here.  She was not dehorned properly.  Her right horn is almost normal, her left horn is deformed.   BTW....she's a purchased cow, so it's not like The Dairy Farmer doesn't know what he's doing. 

So, that is kinda what they would look like if we didn't dehorn them.  We dehorn them for a couple reasons:  safety for other cows and ourselves and to make sure they don't get stuck in places they shouldn't get stuck.  We need to make sure they can put their heads safely in and out of the head gates (which is where they eat and where they attend their gynecological visits) 

 Now, some cattle are "polled,"  which means they are genetically bred without horns.  I am pretty sure this is for beef breeds.  They are mainly put out to pasture where they eat, drink, fool around and give birth, right out there in the field.   I'm figuring that those farmers don't want to have to go round up a whole bunch of spunky angus and wrastle them, so they go with the polled variety.     On a side note, I usually don't know too much about farm "stuff" so I just make it up as I go.  Take all my drivel with a grain of salt (and make sure that salt is around the rim of a nice margarita) 

Here on our dairy farm, we are more concerned with the genetics of health, body type and milk production, so we go old school and don't worry about horns.   When the calves are a couple months old, The Dairy Farmer has to dehorn them.  I have yet to watch this event occur, so I don't know what all it entails.  All I know is, by the end of the day, the DF comes in the house stinking to high heaven of burnt flesh and you better hand him the TV remote and a beer.

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We still aren't done feeding calves.....

This job takes FOR- EV- VER!  There is a little surprise in this video.....see if you can spot it!

If you look at the gate fartherest away....you'll see a very muddy cow and she has a tiny black calf with her.  She delived early in the alleyway.  The punks call them  "street babies." 

That concludes are video series......at least I warned you it was dry.  The whole process takes us about 1 and 1/2 to 2 hours total with cleanup.  Some days are longer depending on how many bottle calves we have and how cold it is.  This cold weather is really cramping our style!

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Oh yes.....there's more.....

I cut the Dairy Farmer off.....I thought he was going to say something dirty and this project was on the up and up....extremely professional.....so I cut him off.  What he was really going to say was "I always have my sexy on."  And, he's right, he does. 

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Now we're cookin'!

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I know you're hoping I forgot.....

Just in case you are a teensy bit interested in what we do...here is the next installment of "calf feeding....the early years"  video series:

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It's Been Awhile

It has been along time since I posted on ye ole farmin' blog.....life has been keeping us busy.  When the weather starts to change, it's time to "winterize" around here.  We have to make sure our water is gonna keep on flowing through the cold months, the fans are turned off and the sides of the barns are put down (they are really just big curtains that we can roll up to allow air in or close to keep the girls toasty warm in the winter).  We need to make sure we have enough feed for everyone as well.  Crops are winding down now....basically, we just have winter cover crops planted right now.   The calves are working on growing their warm, fuzzy coats and I am digging through storage trying to locate all our winter gear and making sure we have enough hats, gloves and scarves and that everything fits!! 

In the middle of all this, The Dairy Farmer and I celebrated 14 years of wedded bliss...and a Flip video camera was my gift.  Look out people.......farmin in the ville is coming at ya in 3D, HD, OCD and XYZ! 

Yesterday was a slow day around here......we were coming off the holiday buzz and one of the punks was sick, so we kept things on the down lo.  The older punk and I thought we'd try out my new toy and you all are now privy to how we roll here in the Ville.  I will warn you.....it's incredibly dry.  I'll post a series of video over a couple days just so I don't send you to the ER with a myocardial infarction due to the HIGH level of excitement.   I'll also warn you....I may or may not swear in one of them.  Just keeping it real, folks. 

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It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

Even though the weather is getting "crispy" and for us outside working types, it is only going to go downhill from here, one thing can be said for this time of year.   Fall evenings in PA sport some of the most fantastic sunsets evah! 

Even though it gets dark at, like, 4 freakin' o clock, I am privy to seeing God's best work every evening. 

Tonight, as I was finishing up feeding calves and leading horses in from the pasture, I noticed that a beautiful full moon was behind me and the most glorious sunset was in front of me.  And I thought to myself......."what a wonderful world." 

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This is how we do it

The Dairy Farmer and I worked last weekend and I took the opportunity to snap some random photos around the farm.

I caught the DF doing what he does best....feeding cows.  Here is my description in farm wife terms:  he drives the tractor down through the center of the barn.  In the mixer behind is all the "stuff" the cows eat....all mixing and churning-nice and yummy.  I think there is an auger inside that pushes the feed out through the side....and the ladies flock from where ever they are to partake of "cow casserole."

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Birthday Calves

Down on the farm, we kinda have a tradition.  If a calf is born on a loved one's birthday- we name it after them.  It's the least we can do....and the least you can do is send us a couple bucks a month for their upkeep.....know what I mean?  These suckers like to eat! 

So, here is our newest addition to the "name game."   This cutie patootie was born on my niece's birthday.....so welcome, Ilia.    (Your bill is in the mail) 

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A Good Friend

This picture was taken in our maternity pen.  These two ladies were laying down, side by side, commiserating about their pregnancies and discussing the ensuing births.   I guess it became a little too real and Bertha decided to take a little nap, by resting her big ole head on Rose's strong shoulders.  It reminded me of that Leeann Rimes song......a good friend and a glass of wine.....someone to say it's gonna be alright.......It's gonna be alright, ladies.  You'll deliver soon and I'll take care of your babies.  You'll be able to go back to doing what you do best.....sleeping and eating. 

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When Boredom Sets In......

I fed this little bull one afternoon last week.  He was fresh and clean and white.   I returned the next afternoon to feed him and low and behold, someone broke into my barn and defaced my bull!  He was spray painted all over with bright orange paint!



Why, I asked....why would someone break in here and paint this dear, little guy orange????  I was seriously concerned.....bull graffiti is a serious concern on a dairy farm......seriously serious.  I had images of a gang of Fayetteville hoodlums running around, defacing bulls in the dark of night all over Franklin County.   Something needs to be done.....STAT.....and fast too!

So, I doned my sleuth cap, monacle and spy glass and started piecing this mystery together Sherlock Holmes style.   I wish I could report a more interesting ending.   But, in reality; the bull was a bit off and The Dairy Farmer gave him antibiotics to make him feel better.  The orange paint was a HUGE alert to all of us NOT to send him to auction.      Sorry, that's the scoop.  It's what happens when boredom sets in.......your mind starts to wander (and by your mind, I  mean mine)

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Mr. Sandman

This is how I feel today.  I would like to curl up in a sunny spot and take a siesta. 

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Color Blind

Sometimes, when you live in a world that is black and white......it's always nice to see a little color.

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A Morning Musing

I have been neglecting Farmin' in the Ville for awhile and if there are actually people out there who have been lying awake at night wondering if I'm ok and missing your daily dose of farm life- I apologize.

I am busy with "school"....or as some call it "volunteering the heck out of myself."  But it's worth it.  I'll be back in full swing (or at least a partial back swing) after November 13th.  We have a large Silent Auction fundraiser for the punks school that day and between now and then, it drains my time.

I digress.....this post was to be about my oldest punk.....and my family.   This sweet faced little cherub is going to turn 12 on Saturday.   Now, in this picture, she was 7 or 8 and gangly legged Jack was about 4 months.  Now, 2006 really wasn't that long ago, but to see them today, they are both completely different.  Girlfriend has had braces and then had them removed.  She has gorgeous (aka expensive) pearly whites, pierced ears and is no longer wearing OshKosh B'Gosh.  Jack, well, he weighs 180lbs and his muzzle is turning gray.  It reminds me of that country song where the chorus is "time marches on...time marches on."  So true. 

Here is what I woke up early to write about.   We always have a family dinner for the punks birthdays.  We started it from Birthday Nurmero Uno.  See, both our families are divorced, some are remarried and well, our family is quite extended.  The Dairy Farmer and I figured- it wasn't our fault this happened so we really didn't want to be spending our little punkin's special day visiting all these seperate family members, so we said: big party, our house, be there or be square.   And, guess what.....they showed up.   And they have every year for 12 years.  

Last night I realized how blessed we are to be sitting in the room, listening to everyone laugh, joke, tell stories and celebrate the most important person in our lives (which was the oldest punk in this case)  All the hurt, heartache and rough patches are behind us.  I am sure it had to be awkward and uncomfortable at times to spend an evening in the same room with  ex-spouses and new spouses, but they did it for their grandchild.   And as "time marches on"......  it became  comfortable and easy and some of the walls came down and the tension left and we can all smile and laugh and remember those times long ago which, seemed like pure hell, and allow the good parts to surface.   I always joke that we have a very functional dysfunctional family and it's all because "time marches on".......   

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So........this is a magazine that The Dairy Farmer gets.  It makes me laugh......because I am childish and immature. 

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What the ????

Ummm, hellooooo Autumn?   Where fore art thou, Fall?  You are supposed to be here today.  It is supposed to be crisp outside and smell like apples and pumpkins.   I should be enjoying a nice cup of tea in the mornings.....in my warm fuzzy robe.  My calves said they are longing for the day when they can see their breath- not be sweating their butts off.   They want to see me coming up the hill in my sweater and skull cap griping about how dang cold it is and ticked off that it gets dark at 4pm.  Yes...that's what we are waiting for- not 95 degrees and 80% humidity.   We've had enough!  Summer.......you and I are SO over!!  Fall,  I expect you to be here STAT.  And you surely better plan on staying for awhile, because I am certainly NOT a fan of winter either.  Thank you for your consideration. 

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Chickens on the Brain

I read somewhere that a chicken lays an egg every day. That seems like a lot of work to me. I mean, I can't imagine shoving a baby out every day.

Anyway, that got me to thinking that if our 4 chickens lay an egg a day, my punks will collect 1460 eggs a year. That's a lot of eggs for a family of four.

And that got me thinking about how we got in this crazy chicken business in the first place and the life lessons we've learned along the way. One fine day in 2007, the Dairy Farmer showed up with 2 chickens "for the kids." Look how little my punks were. Little T was 9 and Little A was only 6....gosh, that seems so long ago.

 

The kids were beyond excited to have their very own chickens and quickly picked theirs out and named them. Little T called her's Angelina Ballerina and Little A....well, his was Spiderman. That's a hint as to what was important in their lives at the time.   

Life lesson #1: egg laying chickens are girls (Spiderman quickly became Spidergirl)

Life lesson #2: chickens poop out eggs they do NOT cough them up (Little A was very proud to fill us in on that fact when our hens started laying)

Life lesson #3:  chicken butt fresh eggs DO indeed taste better than grocery store eggs. 

Life lesson #4: you can donate a dozen eggs from your backyard chickens to your punks school's silent auction fundraiser and make some big bucks! (over $60.00 in fact!)

Life lesson #5:  an egg stand at the side of the road is a decent idea (and egg salad stand- not so much)

Life lesson #6: when your hens become eggbound, don't be surprised if your husband shoves a finger up their bum and helps them out (all the while chatting on the phone.)

Life lesson #7: yes.....hawks do eat chickens. This was realized in the wee morning hours when I heard a terrible noise coming from the distressed ladies.....fortunately, the hawk was unsuccessful that night, but the girls did get to sleep in the house until we got a top on their yard.

Life lesson #8: not everyone has chickens in their basement in the winter and they will look at you funny when you tell them you do.

Life lesson #9: chickens do not live very long. This was realized when Angelina just died one day. We had a proper burial and shed a few tears. Spidergirl gave up and became a pet chicken and never laid an egg again.

Life lesson #10:  it's amazing how attached you can become to a chicken (we found this out when Spidergirl passed away while we were on vacation and my father in law disposed of her body in the manure pit AND THEN TOLD MY SON!)  Many tears were shed that day.

Needless to say- the replacements came in June.  We welcomed Omlette, Benedict, Sunny Side and Dippy.  They are doing a fine job providing us with butt fresh eggs for ourselves, friends and family, but you will never fill the hole left in your heart by your very first chicken. 

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Happy Nipple Day!

Now, that there's a holiday you can get on board with, huh?

It's New Nipple day here on the farm....a day that comes with much

angst for our calves and for myself as well. You see, those little suckers, well, they suck. And their suck is a powerful suck and over time, the holes in the nipples become larger and larger. Now, this works in my favor, because those bottle calves....they can down 6 pints of milk in no time at all. That makes feeding time go MUCH faster allowing me to get back in the house in time to catch the last 20 minutes of Ellen. Good heavens, I love her. She makes me laugh....and dance.....and laugh. She's my favorite daytime talk show lesbian. (The other one- and she knows who she is, used to be my fav until she went all crazy on Tom Selleck for supporting the NRA) I digress. So, when those nipple holes get too big, the calves can start aspirating milk and sometimes it causes health issues (like P neumonia) and we don't like that.

So, periodically, we have to get all new nipples. Now, we are back to a "normal" sized hole and oh dear, those calves suck and suck and suck and suck and suck and suck and they start to turn blue and their eyes roll back in their heads and I look at my watch and think, thank heavens for DVR. Needless to say, it takes a bit longer to drain those 6 pints on New Nipple Day.

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What's that smell?

I ain't gonna lie to ya.....cows poop and poop stinks. The Dairy Farmer has grown tired of the stink around here. He's ready for a methane digester, so if you have one in your attic or basement or maybe in your Aunt Gert's garage, we'll take it. Or, perhaps if you have a spare mill laying around and you're looking to help make the world a better place....c'mon over for coffee and we'll talk poo.

Seriously, folks, not only would it control the odor that tends to waft around the Ville (and it ain't just us, by the way) but we could use our manure to create our own energy that would power our farm AND have extra to sell. Theoretically, we could provide green energy to our neighbors.

Maybe I'll play the lottery tomorrow.

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Mental Health Day

Every now and then, it's good to let the Dairy Farmer leave the confines of the farm, let the wind whip thru his hair and watch the worry lines on his forehead disappear for a few hours. We had Date Day at Raystown- for those of you wondering what "date day" is....it's a miraculous day, when you dump your lovely little punks on some unsuspecting grandparents and you run....run, Forest, run! Spending time with each other, away from the worries of real life and enjoying the beauty that God gave us always makes the work week a little easier. Plus it helps if you catch yourself a big ole feesh.

**according to the Dairy Farmer- this photo is all wrong...that sucka was WAY bigger**

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Here We Go........

I have convinced myself that we need a blog. The Dairy Farmer - he isn't so sure, but I am. I know I have a lot of useless information that I feel compelled to share with the general public. If you like cows and manure and useless information, we are the blog you've been waiting for!

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