A tough day for Rosie (and us)

Rosie is our Jersey cow who is expecting her second calf on December 16th.  Cows have a 9 month gestation period, just like humans.  Here's a nice picture of Rosie right here:


Rosie Girl

A few mornings ago (I didn't want to talk about it at first), I walked out and saw Rosie standing by the round bale of hay with a lot of chickens around her.  I didn't think anything of it at first - until I saw the brown lump on the ground by her.  I felt a funny feeling in my stomach.

I walked up to see at Rosie's feet a perfectly formed baby Jersey bull calf, but one month premature... and dead.  Rosie's motherly instincts had kicked in and she had cleaned him all up, but he was not breathing.  You know, we're still at a loss to explain what happened.  Rosie was in excellent condition.  We just don't know what happened and probably never will.  But we'll try to read up on possible causes and figure out what went wrong and learn.

Russ and I promptly went to the garden, grabbed two shovels and dug a big hole underneath where we had the cow peas planted and buried Rosie's little bull calf right there in the garden.  Daisy, Rosie, Maggie and all of the chickens watchd us dig the hole, put the calf in and cover him with dirt.  It's kind of funny how we try to ascribe emotion to animals.  It seemed like the whole barnyard was in mourning.  Of course they weren't, but it sure seemed like it.  I know we were sad, but we tried to put it in perspective.  We'll keep pushing forward.  Yes, eight months was a long wait and now it's been in vain.  She only had one month to go - so darn close.  Now we'll have to start all over again.  Tough, for sure, but there are worse things that could happen.


A resting place for Rosie's little calf

Now one thing that we noticed is that when the bull calf was born, labor must not have gone as planned.  At the end of the day, the placenta was still hanging outside of her.  Normally, they'll continue in labor and deliver the placenta and promptly... eat it.  Yes, gross.  Rosie's labor seemed to have stopped and a full day later the placenta was still hanging out of her.  We called the veterinarian and he came and looked at it, concerned at first over our description on the phone that it may be something called prolapse, but it wasn't.  He wanted to give it a full six days and then if it was still there he would do a procedure on her.  I think the procedure involves injecting her with a hormone to induce labor to expel the placenta and then giving her antibiotics to ward off infection.  We want to avoid that, if possible.  We'll keep a close watch and call him back in a few days.  Here is an unflattering picture of what I'm describing:

Placenta hanging out between her tail and body

One other thing that is odd about this, and maybe this is due to the premature labor and delivery, but Rosie did not have a full bag of colostrum like cows normally do when they deliver.  I waited until the evening and tried to milk her.  I did get several squirts of colostrum out.  I kept working and working and finally seemed to get things flowing after what seemed like "plugs" were worked out of all four teats.  I've milked her out morning and night over the next few days and her milk seems to be coming in better now, although only about half as much as when Maggie was born.  Milk is produced based on demand.  I feel pretty certain that I can get her production up if I continue milking her frequently.

The tough part about this is that it is Russ' senior year, his last year showing Dairy Cows.  The livestock shows are in January.  Dairy cows are judged on their condition, especially the size of their 'bags'.  We're heartbroken over this for Russ.  However, we know that things like this happen from time to time.  We won't go crying over spilled milk or stillborn calves.  We'll chalk it up as a learning experience and move on. 

Thankfulness

Today is a day we set aside to really give thanks to the Almighty for the blessings in our lives.  We have so much to be thankful for it is really hard to even start listing them... but I'll try.  First and foremost, we're thankful for the price paid by Jesus Christ that gave us our salvation.  We're thankful for our family and friends and fellow believers at our church.  We're thankful for our country and the freedoms we have.  We're thankful for real food, a roof over our head, our health, and our little piece of land in the country.


Real food that's real good!

While we're talking about Thanksgiving, I wanted to share something with you that has very little to do with farming, homesteading or anything we do, but it has everything to do with true thankfulness, true faith who we should aspire to be.  I heard the following story that I'll paraphrase below on an American Family Radio broadcast several months ago and the remarkable story has just stuck with me.  It is a story of real Faith.  A story of the attitude of Thanksgiving.  A story that both inspires me on the one hand and makes me and my faith feel so puny on the other.

It was 1994.  Scott Willis was serving as pastor of the Parkview Baptist Church in Chicago.  He and his wife put their six kids in their mini van to go on a trip to Milwaukee.  As they were driving down the interstate, a car in front of them swerved in order to avoid a piece of metal that had fallen off of a truck.  In the next instant, Pastor Willis saw the piece of metal in the road, but he didn't have time to avoid it.  The mini-van struck it and the metal punctured the gas tank, exploding their minivan into a fiery inferno.  Five of the Willis children were burned to death within a few seconds and the sixth lasted one more day before he died. Pastor Willis and his wife Janet barely got out of the vehicle and could do nothing but watch in horror.

The Chicago Tribune quoted the Willis' in a press conference given by Pastor Scott Willis and his wife Janet, hands bandaged, their faces bearing the marks of the flames, “There are only two possible responses to the kind of loss that Scott and Janet suffered last week. Utter despair or unquestioning faith. For the Willis', despair was never an option. ‘I know God has purposes and God has reasons,’ said Scott Willis, explaining how he and his wife had been able to cope with the death of six of their nine children in a freak accident earlier this month on a Milwaukee freeway. ‘God has demonstrated his love to us and our family. There is no question in our minds that God is good, and we praise him in all things.’ His wife, Janet, said, ‘He’s the giver and taker of life, and he sustains us.’  In the accident, six of their children died: Ben, 13; Joe, 11; Sam, 9; Hank, 7; Elizabeth, 3; and little Peter, just six weeks old.”

I cannot even imagine.  I don't even know what to say.  This is what Pastor Willis said,

“There is no question in our minds that God is good, and we praise him in all things.”

This godly couple watched as their six children were consumed by flames before their very eyes and they never questioned God, they never wavered in their faith, they never struggled with bitterness.  Instead they exercised complete and utter trust in God, even praising Him and thanking Him.  Again, I don't know what to say.

This Thanksgiving our family sat at the table and thanked God for the blessings He's given us.  We are commanded to give thanks in everything.  (Philippians 4:6)  You've heard that verse a million times.  But 'everything' including the events that the Willis family endured?  That is a high hill to climb, a big pill to swallow.

In reading more about this incident, I ran across the following quote from www.keepbelieving.com in a sermon by Dr. Ray Pritchard:

I know a family in South Chicago where there will be six empty chairs around the table this Thursday. It is hard even to think about that. Pastor Willis, what is it you said? “God has demonstrated his love to our family. There is no question in our minds that God is good, and we praise him in all things.” Either that man has lost his mind, or he has found his faith. I’ll be honest, I don’t know what I would say if it were my three boys taken in a fiery death. I suppose in that moment, God gives grace for what you have to bear, and whatever strength you have to have.

“There is no question in our minds that God is good and we praise him for all things.”

As I said earlier this type of faith inspires me and humbles me.  In thinking about the Willis Family as our family gave thanks to God today, I realized just how blessed we are.  Many days we belly-ache and feel sorry for our minor inconveniences and trials we suffer.  But no sir, my trials and tribulations are light afflictions, momentary nuisances compared to the burden and loss that others experience.  As I go to bed tonight in comfort, with a full stomach, with my family near me healthy and safe, I truly give thanks to our Maker who has seen fit to bless our family much more than we deserve. 

If at first you don't succeed...

Try, try again.  "Dad, can we go hunting again tomorrow?  I want to kill a duck and eat him."  So we're up again this morning at 5 am driving back to the duck blind.  We witnessed another gorgeous sunrise as we waited on the first flight of ducks.

First rays of sunlight in the eastern sky

And then all of a sudden, as if on cue, a lone duck lit right in the middle of our spread of decoys.  Fatal mistake, Mr. Duck.  One shot took him and Benjamin was excited.  Now this duck isn't exactly a much sought after duck like a mallard, pintail, teal or wood duck.  This is the lowly spoonbill, but doggonit, we're going to eat him.  Here is a picture of Benjamin with the spoonbill.


One better than yesterday

Spoonbills get their name from the spoon shaped bill that gets wide toward the tip of the bill.  They use this distinctive bill to help them forage around in the shallow water looking for grass seeds, algae, and aquatic insects.  We breasted him out and will attempt to eat him.  His remains were buried in the garden

One of the items on my list for the day was to clean the strip of land that borders our property on the south side of our fence.  Honeysuckle vines were growing on the hogwire and many weeds and small trees were growing close to the fence.  I like to keep a barren strip of land bordering the woods and the pasture to act as some sort of barrier, perhaps, to critters that may want to dine on our chickens.  The weeds/trees seen below gives them cover.



Before

I used some hand clippers to remove the encroaching jungle and then followed up with the mower.  Look below, doesn't that look better?  Now I can see any approaching predators before they get their prey.

After

Speaking of predators, while I was working on clearing the lane south of the fence, I heard a loud ruckus coming from the chickens in the pasture and looked up just in time to see a large red-tailed hawk swoop down, with talons outstretched and grab one of our Aracauna hens.  The chickens went berserk and miraculously the hen got away from the hawk's grasp.  I watched this whole thing in amazement.  All the chickens in the pasture ran for the safety of the barn, so I went to check on them.

Here is the poor hen, minus some feathers, but other than that, okay and probably feeling pretty fortunate to have a second chance at life.  If you notice below by the pink spots on her back, that is where the hawk sunk his talons into her.  She's fine, though.


Whew!

Let's go check at the scene of the crime.  Below you can see the whitish feathers on the ground that should be on Sally Hennypenny's back.  CSI Jennings (Barnyard Edition)


The crime scene

A hawk is a federally protected bird.  Logically, it would seem that barnyard justice would say that the hawk meet the same fate as the spoonbill, but that would be illegal and land me promptly in jail with a hefty fine.  No thanks. 

Our hunt yesterday yielded us no meat for the freezer.  Benjamin's persistence as a hunter enabled him to want to try again today and this time, we were successful.  Let's hope that the hawk that he won't have the same persistence as we did in his hunting of our chickens.  Hopefully, he's a quitter.

Out of space?

I've apparently run out of space for pictures on blogger and have to set up another account to store pictures to.  Please check back with me tomorrow as I'll try to get some help in getting this sorted out.  I'm not the most technical savvy person around!  Thanks for being patient with me.

Killing Time

This morning Benjamin and I woke up at 5 am and headed off to Oberlin to go duck hunting.  It is a curious phenomenon and a spectacle to see.  I'm talking about seeing a young man who is hard to get out of bed at 6 am to go to school was up in a skinny minute at 5 am to go hunting!  It is teal season and wood duck season right now.  We went to the store and bought our hunting license and duck stamp.  A good friend of mine had set up the duck blind on a levee in the bottom cut of a rice field that was holding some water.  He was unable to join us as he had to work, so it was just Benjamin and I on this trip. 

It has been really dry for the past month so there's not a lot of water.  Coupled with the clear "blue-bird" days we have had with no rain and no clouds, I prepared Benjamin that we might come up empty handed as we drove the 30 minute drive to the farm.  I told him that even if we didn't kill anything but time, we'd make some good memories, watch a beautiful sunrise, and see some sights.  And we'd try again... and again...

We arrived at the blind before daylight.  There were ducks in the pond that we scared up unfortunately, but you can't shoot before sunrise.  It was 38 degrees as we settled into the blind.  Note to self: bring a bucket to sit on next time.


Camouflaged Benjamin with a beautiful dawning day

Here's a peek out of the blind in front of us.  You can see a mallard drake decoy floating somewhat, trying unsuccessfully to lure a duck to land within range.  If you look in the foreground, you can see full heads of ripened rice on some of the unharvested stalks.


Quack Quack

This is a shot out of the back of the duck blind.  You can't see it because the camera focused on the pine needles instead of the blurry object I was trying to focus on right in the center of the photo.  That object is a coyote that was checking Benjamin and I out.  I told Benjamin that next time I'm bringing my rifle.  I mentioned in an earlier posting my dislike for coyotes.


Wile E. Coyote

Patient Benjamin.


Where's the ducks, Pop?

As Benjamin and I had our eyes peeled for wood ducks or teal, a chicken hawk flew over, then a red tailed hawk, followed by some cattle egrets, some snipe and even a lone snow goose, but no ducks.  We did, however, as I told Benjamin earlier, see a breath-taking sunrise:


Peeking over a treeline of pines



Psalm 113:3 From the rising of the sun unto the going down of the same the LORD's name is to be praised.

 

Oh glorious day

So we talked and waited and talked and waited and finally decided that all we would kill would be time and both agreed that it was a good thing that mom has some leftover homemade soup for us to eat instead of relying on meat from our hunt for lunch today.  Here is Benjamin exiting the blind.  It is made with some pine limbs that are stuck in the mud near the edge of the pond.


Here's a picture of the blind from the backside.  We'll add some more camouflage to it.  As the winter progresses and the weather gets nastier and pushes more ducks down South, we'll need to hide from the ducks.  Today?  Not many ducks to hide from.

And here's a look walking into the blind.  Hopefully, we'll get some rain to fill our pond up better so the decoys will float better.


A couple of salient points, here:

1. A bad day hunting is far better than a good day at work.
2. Making memories getting up early and going hunting with your son and seeing beautiful sights of nature outweigh any amount of wild game that you can put in your freezer.

We're persistent, though.  We'll keep at it until we're successful.  That's why they call it "hunting."  You don't always find them!

Beautiful Sunday

This morning we woke up to an absolutely gorgeous day.  I'm telling you it was cool, crisp - a red letter day.  A little chilly so we thought it was a good day to make a "Kitchen Sink" Soup.  So before heading off to church, we took one of our chickens out of the freezer, put it in a pot with some water and started it boiling.  Once it reached a boil, we turned it down to low and let it simmer for an hour.  Before leaving for church, we turned it off.

When we returned we removed the chicken from the dutch oven, deboned it, and put it all back in with the delicious broth.  I went to the garden and picked a handful of kale and some bok choi (Chinese cabbage), chopped them up and added to the broth and chicken.  We added some minced ginger, onion, garlic, criolla sella ground pepper, green onion, pasta and cubed sweet potato.  We also added some leftover rice from the night before and brought it back to a boil and then simmered until the sweet potato was soft.  Time to eat!  It was so very hearty and healthy.  You can't go wrong with this soup - simply throw whatever you've got in with some good broth and you have a great, quick meal.

Okay switching to something not so appetizing - from talking about soup to talking about poop.  Here is the beginning of the manure pile for the winter.  In the Spring and Summer, the chickens scratch up and distribute all the cow patties in the pasture.  For some reason in the winter, they don't.  No problem, I pick them up and throw them in the corner of the garden.  Each day as I go out to feed and water the pullets in the chicken tractor, I carry a bucket and scoop up the cow manure and add to the pile.  I'll mix hay and leaves with it eventually and as it decomposes and breaks down, it makes a nice soil amendment to the garden.


Pure manure for sure

Here is Stryker, the bull.  He broke his halter somehow so we'll have to get him a new one.  I think I'll have to get him a nose plate as well.  We've had him separated from Daisy, his momma, for months.  Don't you know just when we think he's weaned and it's safe to put them back together, he starts trying to nurse on her again, the big galoot. 

Stryker still wants his momma's milk

The rye grass paddock is showing a little bit of green, but not much.  It has been very dry the last two months.  A nice, slow, soaking rain would certainly help the grass grow. 

The rye grass is thirsty

Here is an item on my to do list as soon as it rains and softens up the soil.  You see the two orange trees underneath the live oak tree below?  I'll need to dig them up and move them.   They really haven't grown at all.  I think it has a lot do do with where they are located.  They currently complete with the live oak for sunshine, water and nutrients and unfortunately for them, the live oak wins the battle.  I'll move them to a more favorable spot.


Time to move these citrus trees to a more favorable location



The sacrifice pasture

Yesterday we saw how the cows are moving through our inventory of hay faster than poop through a goose.  You can see the round bale we rolled out a week ago this morning is pretty much gone.

The hay disappearing act

We do have another trick we use to stretch the hay.  We call it the sacrifice pasture.  All Spring and Summer and part of the fall, we leave the animals on the main pasture and they do a good job of keeping it mowed down.  We have a small pasture behind the barn that we let grow up tall in grass.  We put up a temporary fence in it and will turn the animals into it every once in a while.  Think of it like the canned goods in your pantry.  Normally you eat fresh grown produce.  But when the fresh produce isn't available, you reach into your pantry and pull out the stored items to supplement your diet.  Same principle here.  We're giving the cows a pasture we've stored up for them and it gives us a little more time so that we save the hay for when we really need it.


The sacrifice pasture

The picture above was taken from the sacrifice pasture looking back to the barn.  You can see how tall the grass is in there.  The cows can't wait to get in there!  You can see how Daisy, Rosie and Maggie rush into the pasture we've saved for them. 


An open gate to more food on their plate

Immediately, you can see that their heads are down and they are enjoying the new grass.


Thanks for opening that gate!

One thing we want to be sure of is to electrify the temporary fence that borders the new pasture.  This is done by taking the jump wire, attaching it to the perimeter hot wire and then running it to the temporary fence and attaching it so that the electricity conducts around that fence as well.  You can follow this in the picture below.  If you look on the bottom right, the red clip takes the electricity, runs it through the black wire and then clips into the temporary fence on the upper left. 

Jumping the electricity to the other fence

Here below, Tricia is applying our 'electric fence tester' to the wire to test to see if it is "hot."  This homemade tester is simply a blade of grass that we touch to the wire.  If it is electrified, you can feel the pulses hitting the blade of grass and confirm it is working without hurting yourself.  If it is not, you can troubleshoot and fix the problem.


Is the fence hot, Tricia?

The answer is yes.  We feel safe to let the cows in the sacrifice pasture now.  Cows respect electricity.  They are 1000 pound creatures that could run through that little wire like a hot knife through butter, but they don't because they've been shocked before and don't like the feeling.  For the record, I don't like being shocked either!