bow chicka wow wow.......

The Dairy Farmer came home a tad frustrated yesterday.  He has been noticing that the fellow on the top floor of an apartment  near us seems to have a very large television, located near a very large window.   Now, I know the DF has TV envy, but that's not the sole reason for his annoyance.  Seems this fella watches a good bit of porn.....on his big TV.....on a Saturday morning,...which apparently can be seen quite clearly from the road. 

Now,  a wife might ask.....how on earth can you tell it's porn when you are SUPPOSED to be watching the road while you drive?  Hmmm?????   Well, so happens this happy camper lives right at a stop sign.  So, when you are stopping and looking both ways, you get an eye full.   I've been wondering why the traffic around here has slowed to a crawl!


So, public service announcement....if you live near us, please shield your children (and husbands) eyes when you come to the 4 way stop. 

God love the DF....he wanted to know if it was illegal.  Illegal to watch porn from the comfort of your own home?  I really don't think so....this is still America last time I checked.  If they take away your dirty movies, what's next?????

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We are in TRUB-BLE!

My Dairy Farmer is one hard workin' dude.  He works long hours in the heat, the cold and the dead of night (much like your postman) to bring you the delicious dairy products you have grown accustomed to.  Feel free to thank him for preventing your osteoporosis.

Seriously, he works every single day of the year....that's 365 days the last time I checked.  He is always on call.  His cell phone rings ALL the blasted time.  It's a blessing......allowing us to actually leave our farm on occasion.......and it's a curse......they can always find us!

Even though it is a hard, thankless job, even though the economy sucks, even though the milk price fluctuates constantly, even though we had a major drought last summer, my Dairy Farmer holds it all together. 

He may have a massive ulcer on the inside, but he usually "grins and bears" it.    He takes very few days off work.  We do have the luxury of family vacations, but again......his dang cell phone rings all the time....even at 3am.  And when Mrs. The Farmer is on vacation....that is NOT what she wants to hear.  

I've talked about his "worry" lines before....very large creases on his sweet little forehead.  That's what this business will do to ya.  But, a few times a year, those lines disappear.   In the summer, when he is running his boat on the lake- he's like a dog with his head hanging out the car window- pure joy.   And in the winter, when he is skiing in Colorado.  Even the punks noticed how different he looks when he's doing what he loves. 

We are heading out west in a few short days and as much as a love not having to feed calves for a full week, I am not much of an "outside" wife.  I prefer to stay inside- you know, where it's warm.  Where it's cozy. Where the wind don't blow.   And it still boggles my mind that the Dairy Farmer, who HATES winter in Pennsylvania when it's cold and blustery can LOVE winter in Colorado where the wind chill is minus 40. 

So, we're packing the punks and snagging a grandparent or two and hauling our butts outta here.  We are all outfitted with new skis and new boots for the kids, we've got gloves and goggles and helmets, oh my.  

The point of this (and trust....I always have one) is that after our dry run at Whitetail last night, I realized 2 things:
1) skiing in PA sucks.....like, a lot and
B) I am excited

So, lookout C-O.......here we G-O!

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The Wizard?

The Wizard? But nobody can see the Great Oz! Nobody's ever seen the Great Oz! Even I've never seen him!


That's kind of how I feel sometimes.  I am the numero uno photographer of all events around this joint.  I am the primary videographer of all things interesting (and not so interesting).  I am the only person who feels it's necessary to blog about the goings on at Brechland Farms.  Therefore, no one ever sees the wizard.  I have been scrapbooking lately, trying to get myself semi caught up and I realized how very few pictures there are of  me.  Now, I prefer it this way, I really am not photogenic....and of course, I look at a picture of  myself and pick apart all the things that are wrong: muffin top, crows feet, gray hair....I am, afterall, looking down the barrel of the big 4-0 in just a few months.  But, someday, just maybe, my punks might want to see a picture of their momma.   And I am sure they won't say a word about my crow's feet and gray hair.  After all, they are the reason I have them. 

Needless to say-  The Dairy Farmer grabbed my camera from me the other day and snapped my picture.  This is me-what you see is what you get.   Me- uncensored, unphotoshopped and unbelievable cold!  By the way....isn't there a saying that says the camera adds 35 pounds...and gray hair? 

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It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood....

On Monday, we started moving some dirt to make a new "calf pad".....sounds so....seventies.....so retro......so Austin Powers.  It's shagadelic, baby.     But, it's really just a level piece of ground where we can relocate our calves to try and offer them better protection from that blasted wind.  The wind around here really blows, man. 

 By Friday, our calves were moved in.  It was a joyful surprise when I went out to feed that afternoon and realized that my babies weren't where they were supposed to be.  They moved....and I was even more elated that not one person came around pestering me to help. 

Here they all are, well, most of them anyway.  All lined up in a beautiful straight row.  I love straight, I love rows.  Us anal retentive people like our order! 

There are 45 calves in this row......and a couple empty hutches.  I'm sure once the ladies get wind that we have room at the inn, they'll start pushing em out....shoving em out.....way out!  Anyone know where that saying came from? 

So, remember how I was telling you how this would offer some wind relief?  Here are the few last weaned ones left up on that hill.  Being down in the hollow makes a HUGE difference. 



They will be moving in a few days, so no need to stress them twice.   But they look down at me and cry...."we can totally see you.  We see you and we see that big barrel of milk, c'mon back up here and bring that truck with you! "

Of course we have these turkeys left.  Larry, Moe, Curly and that other dark haired one.  What was his name?

They live in the hayshed with 8 others.  We ran out of room around Thanksgiving and had to group house some. 

See the 2 with the white blazes on their heads?  Those are the twins that were born on separate days.  The one of the right was born on a Saturday and the one of the left was born on a Wednesday.    That's just weird. 

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I love a snow day!

And so does my son!  So far, we've had just enough snow that it's pretty and fresh, but hasn't shut down the workings of the farm.  We've had enough to play in and sled in and ride 4 wheelers in, but not enough that we've had to plow.   We've had enough that my boy is in pure heaven.  He has been up since 7:30 working and playing and hasn't even been in for breakfast.  Now, that is saying something.  My boy does not miss a meal.  He is all about when can he eat, what can he eat and how much can he eat. 
I am enjoying sitting in my warm craft room and watching him enjoy the snow.  I've said it once and I'll say it again, I am an inside kind of mom. 

 A young boy, a 4 wheeler and snow go together like peas and carrots.   








Notice the ginormous racing helmet on his head.  He saved all his green from Christmas to buy himself a "real" helmet.  He had been wearing his ski helmet for the last few months.   He is just like his daddy.  Now, his daddy had knee high, bright red racing boots that he thought were THE coolest things ever.  We didn't have the heart to tell him how ridiculous they looked....wait, maybe we did?   

My poor yard.....it will never be the same.

I have another boy who loves the snow too!   He is waiting for Farm Boy Jr Edition to come out and play. 

                                                                                                                                                                                                          First, they made snow angels for two hours, then they went ice skating, then they ate a whole roll of Tollhouse Cookiedough as fast as they could, and they snuggled.

  Nah, I'm just kidding.  I have an affinty for elf culture.  But, they really did make snow angels.








Then, they played "stick." 





Then, they played "bite the tire." 






And, THEN they snuggled. 

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Can we dig it? Yes, we can!

There is something exciting happening on our farm!  And, if you are anything like my boys, you'll be happy to hear that we have big machines working around here!   The Dairy Farmer FINALLY decided that we need to relocate our calves, not because they witnessed a serious crime or anything.  We aren't putting them in the witness protection program....we're just moving their houses to a different area of the farm.   

You see,  they live on the highest place on our farm.....way up on a hill.......and there is really no protection on that hill.   It's like   OOOOOklahoma, where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain
And the wavin' wheat can sure smell sweet when the wind comes right behind the rain......wait,what?  I don't live in Oklahoma......Peeeeensylvania, where the wind comes sweeping down the plain......

 So, if you look way off in the distance behind all their little houses....what do you see?  Nuthin?  That's right.....nuthin is there to stop that wind.  In the summer, it's nice, but when it's cold as an Eskimo's butt, they need some protection. 

So a few days ago.....Scoop, Muck and Rolly showed up at our farm and started moving some big piles of dirt around!   Bob the Builder shout out....get it?  Anyone?  My, that takes me back....
Anywho....you're here to see pictures of big stuff.......so here you go:

I think it might be sad that I am so joyful at the thought of 1) having all the calves in one central location and B) that we will all be sheltered from the wind.   This pad is down in a hollow and the wind should just blow right over top of us.  Now, what I am not joyful about is moving day.  I am really not sure how we go about moving 60 calves.  But,  I do know that I am pretty sure I will be sick that day. Yup, I feel a fever coming on right now.

Stay tuned for more pictures as this process unfolds.  Right now, I must go grab my honeylamb and sit alone and talk and watch a hawk make lazy circles in the sky.  

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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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