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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