Livin' the dream

A couple weeks ago I walked out to the garden to pick some onions for dinner.

On the way I passed our cow Victoria. We had sold her six-month-old calf a few days before, so she was still in the agitated bellowing stage and was using it as an excuse to hop a low spot in the fence and hang around in the driveway. We kept the driveway gate closed, so there was no where else she could go. (She calmed down shortly thereafter and we repaired the fence.)

At the time, the driveway was littered with eight round bales of hay we had delivered to supplement our winter supply. We've since moved the bales into the barn.

I also passed the buff hen, busy mothering the 13 half-grown chicks.

I picked the onions and trimmed the roots and stems, which I dropped in the compost bin before I came back to the house. While I was in the garden, some neighbors dropped by for a visit. "Look at the size of these!" I exclaimed, holding up the onions, which they duly admired.

"And it occurred to me," I added, "how strange it would seem to some people to be passing cows and chickens and hay bales on the way to get onions from the garden for dinner."

"Yep, we're living the dream," replied the wife.

She was right. Sometimes I forget we're livin' the dream and it's good to be reminded.

A very generous cow

Here's our cow Victoria. Notice she's nursing not one, not two, but three calves.

That's one generous cow, that's all I can say.

Meet Ferdinand the Bull

Yesterday morning when I went to do morning chores, I saw Amy and Matilda standing in the corral with their ears pricked toward the woods. It didn't take a lot of deduction to discern what they heard. Victoria was having her calf. (Always pay attention to the body language of your livestock.)

I arrived literally seconds after the calf dropped to the ground.

It's hard to tell amidst the gooey mess, but that's a little scrotum. We have a bull calf.

As with little Hickory, this fella arrived in a window of very nice weather. Calm, not very cold (about 35F at the time), and some sunshine. We just got finished with a bout of rainy, windy weather, so I'm grateful Victoria held off until things were better.

I left her to deal with the baby. When I checked in half an hour later, she was just starting to pass the placenta.

And the calf was already nursing. Look how identical in color he is to his mama.

Don and I had decided in advance that if Victoria (a purebred Dexter) had a bull calf (which would also be purebred Dexter), we would keep him as a breeder. We've looked at the lineage of our animals and he can be bred to everyone but his mama, of course.

We checked in about an hour later, and Victoria had dropped the placenta and was starting to eat it (a revolting but instinctive practice).

We waited another 20 minutes but she was still trying to force it down her throat, so we decided to intervene. Don armed himself with a stout stick and watched my back as I picked up the calf and moved him out of the woods into the driveway. (At this time of year, the feedlot is too muddy for calves, so we're moving mamas and calves into the driveway, which is rocky and firm, plus they have access to the barn for food and shelter.)

Once out of the woods, Victoria and the baby immediately made themselves comfortable.

This morning the little guy is much firmer on his feet.

In fact, he's at the comical stage where he's steady enough to wobble and skip around, and Victoria -- mooing anxiously, udder swaying -- has to keep up with his gambols. It's quite funny to watch.

Meanwhile I'm noodling aronnd the name Ferdinand, after a favorite children's book "The Story of Ferdinand."

Calves popping out everywhere

Holy cow (no pun intended), we've got calves popping out all over.

Late Saturday night, around 10 pm, Victoria had her calf in the pasture. I tried to get a flash photo without much luck.

Sunday morning we went to fetch the calf to the barn. It's a boy, so we needed to have him close to castrate.

Out came Don with the faithful calf cage on the tractor.

The calf cage has made life much easier for us. Here's Victoria and her baby in the barn...

...which adjoins the corral...

...where Lucy and her baby are still residing until the baby is old enough to castrate.

This meant the two calves got to play. Very cute.

Meanwhile Matilda's calf, I'm pleased to report, found the faucet after only two days, relieving me of twice-a-day milking and bottle-feeding the calf.

We've kept Matilda in the driveway area until such time as we could castrate.

Then Monday morning, shortly after Younger Daughter came stumbling out of bed rubbing her eyes, she looked out the window and said casually, "Looks like another cow in labor." There's a country kid for ya.

Sure enough, Sparky was having her baby.

She was at the "two hoof" stage. Birth is usually within half an hour at this point.

No privacy for a cow. Everyone wandered over to offer moral support.

Finally, after a lot of pushing, straining, and groaning...

...she delivered the calf.

As well as all the amniotic fluid.

Immediately Sparky started licking the calf. Licking accomplishes three things: It cleans the calf, it stimulates circulation, and it familiarizes the mother with the calf's unique scent. (Trust me on this. With multiple calves gamboling through a field, I've seen a mother sniff one calf and move on to another it since it didn't smell like hers.)

Lots of curiosity about the newcomer.

It's a little heifer, a rich chestnut brown.

After fifteen minutes or so, her first shaky attempt to stand.

We gave Sparky and her baby a few hours to rest, then out came the calf cage once again. The heifer won't need castrating, of course, but we'll dehorn her.

Here's Sparky and the baby in the barn. The calf is a good strong nurser.

This makes six calves so far -- four bull calves and two heifers. We've steered the bull calves and dehorned one of the heifers (we'll have to wait about five days for Sparky's calf).

You'll notice, however, with the exception of Pixie (Polly's calf) I haven't given any names to the calves. That's because I thought I'd run a calf-naming competition among all of you, dear readers. We're waiting on one, possibly two mores calves, and when the full cadre has arrived, I'll post pictures and genders and invite reader participation.

We've had so many calves popping out that frankly we're dry on names; but it will be fun to hear all of your clever suggestions.

Friday Roundup

Seems like the days fly past since once again it's time for our Friday Roundup, where we all pitch in the things we did during the week -- big or small -- that contributed toward self-sufficiency.

We've had a productive week, even working through an early and nasty heat wave (highs in the low 90s, ug). Here's what we got done this week:

• Our cow Victoria (the dark red animal) had her calf out in the pasture, a little bull (here Polly is sniffing at him).

Victoria is an experienced mama so I wasn't worried. We'll have to capture the little guy and castrate in a few days. Meanwhile Younger Daughter named him Jerky. As in beef.

• Our Jersey Giant chicks arrived at the post office.

Considering the breed is giant, the chicks are sure tiny. But they all looked healthy (we also have one "mystery bird" the hatchery threw in for free).

We set up a box with food and water (and later a heat lamp).

After dipping each one's beak in water (to teach it how to drink)...

... they settled into their new home.

So far they appear to be a very calm breed. The chicks are less "hysterical" when we change their food and water.

• Don worked like mad through that hideous heat wave, finishing up the fence area he tore out last week in order to re-do it properly. He mixed concrete in the tractor bucket...

...straightened all the poles, and set them up.

He took a trip to town and splurged on ten cattle panels (sometimes called hog panels). They're expensive, but we're love them because they're sturdy, long, and portable (meaning, we can move them from place to place as needed). We try to buy a few every year, so this is our year's allotment.

Then he installed the panels to the poles. He wants to fasten boards top and bottom to lock the panels in place (and prevent the animals from pushing them either at top or bottom), but he delayed this step because of the heat.

Doesn't it look great?

• He also set up the cattle panels in a clever gate system to span the driveway and make a "chute" between one pasture and the other, which means we don't have to rotate the cattle around the entire property before putting them in the woods. At sunset the day Don finished the fence, we tried out the system. We can even close the gate at the end of the driveway so the animals can crop the grass growing along the road.

Here Brit is waiting impatiently for Don to open the fence.

The animals all respond to our universal "Bossy bossy bossy" call, and milled around the fence until we opened it up.

Victoria made it through the gate just fine, but little Jerky (only 24 hours old at this point) got lost, so I heaved him up and carried him across the driveway.

But Don's new gate system worked flawlessly. Within moments the cows were on the cooler wooded side of the property, which offered them shade from the broiling temperatures (although as of this writing, the heat wave has broken, whew).

• This isn't really preparedness-related, but I noticed this group of ravens gathered on a distant treetop.

We've been having ravens all over the place lately. Don't know why.

• I skimmed all the cream from the milk which had accumulated in the fridge, and made three pounds of butter (which I froze).

• A neighbor made about a dozen trips over with his trailer to get compost to work into a large garden area. Don loaded it with the tractor.

He cleaned out a lot of our compost, which is great since we now have room to re-pile more as it comes.

• The girls picked strawberries. Third time this week. The berries are starting to ripen fast.

• We got the drip system up for the ancillary vegetables -- bell peppers, cayenne peppers, broccoli -- that I started in the house.

Then I got everything planted. I don't think the broccoli will make it, though.

Here are the cayennes.

• Didn't get photos, but we got the corn tires topped with compost. The next step is to get the drip system in place, and plant seed. It's awfully late to plant corn, but I have enormous confidence that the short-season open-pollinated variety we tried last year, Yukon Chief, will yield successfully. Last year we planted on June 5 and harvested on August 29, and got 600 ears. I'm hooked on this corn variety.

That was our week. What have you done?