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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