The Big Brush-Off

Winter is the perfect time for brush removal.  I wanted to get some of it taken care of as an encouragement to Herb so he could take it off his very long "To Do" list.  So I called on Randy, our trustworthy lawn service man.

He and his son started on a frosty morning, trimming along the road through the Middle Pasture.

It took two full days of work to get the job done.  I went down on Day 2 to check on how things were going.  You can see the clean fence line in the foreground with Randy and Travis about to tackle the next bit.

Randy knows all the local trees, and he told me this one had to go--it's a wild cherry.  I knew it was dangerous to livestock, but I had no idea what it looked like.  If the leaves fall off in the fall, the cattle can eat them with no harm done.  But if a branch should break off in a storm and the leaves wither, just a small amount will kill a full-size cow.

Randy knows from experience.  His father always told him never to feed wild cherry to the cows because it would kill them.  He didn't believe it, so he gave a branch to one of the milk cows.  "See?" he thought, "She loves it."  And then she went down.  Fortunately, young Randy had the sense to run tell his dad what he'd done, and the vet managed to save the cow.  He couldn't save Randy from getting his hide tanned, though!

Looking back along the cleared fence line and creek bed.  I wanted the cedars saved because they can serve as a secondary fence post, so the guys cleaned them off up to the top of the fence.

The thicket of wild plum was a real doozy.

The bonfire was burning all day both days, and the cattle were fascinated.  They made me laugh because it looked for all the world like they were having a weiner and marshmallow roast.

Siobhan's mouth is open here (left) because she's telling Wellie (red calf at right), "Wellie!  Don't eat that marshmallow after it fell on the ground!"

 Travis and Randy no only took down the scrub trees, but they also cleaned up the ones we were saving, like persimmons and oaks, so that we can drive under them without scraping the top of the Doodad.

 After the marshmallow roast, the cattle went over to dine on privet right off the "food cart."

Now that the creek bed was more accessible, Ebony decided to give herself a clay mask.

There's something fascinating about watching a fire burn, for both humans and bovines, it seems.

Misty inspects the nice neat fence line while the guys wait for the last of the brush to burn and the fire to die down.

Of course I had to tease Randy about giving us a big brush-off, but this was one we were glad for.

Welcome Home Surprises

We were gone for 10 days to Texas to visit family and attend a Stephen Ministries Leadership Training Course in Dallas.  Kara was our faithful farm sitter who kept animals fed and water tanks full during some of the hottest days this summer.

Once we had greeted Kara and the dogs we were off to feed and say hi to all the animals.

The first--and very pleasant--surprise was that when I hollered "Ooooh, cow!" the first one running to greet us was Tiggy!  She still wouldn't let us touch her, and she didn't want any of the feed we were offering, but she sure came running.  She looks so much bigger than when we left!
 

The next surprise was seeing how much Wellie has grown.  Kara texted us photos while we were gone of Tiggy and Wellie touching noses through the fence at feeding time.  Neither one is interested in their mamas' feed--they just want to be friends!

This "cow" in the back pasture is 13 1/2 month old Macree, Siobhan's heifer from last year.

Macree has grown nicely and is looking good.

However, a not-so-nice surprise (Kara fore-warned us) is that Macree has a new admirer.  Royal apparently found a spot in a fence that he could get through, and he abandoned Ebony, his "intended," for a cute young thing.  We were glad that Kara knew better than to try to come between a bull--even a nice one like Royal--and a heifer in season!

So we have a fence-repairing job in order to keep Royal where he belongs!  We also have the vet coming to give an injection of Lutalyse to Macree as a precaution.  He said that although she is in good condition, she's too young to be bred.  If she is indeed bred, she would calve almost two months before her second birthday, at least two months too early.

There's never a dull moment on a farm, not even when you go away.  And the work is never done because just when you think it is, the animals will find a way to make some more!  But we were thankful to have had them in good hands while we were gone--and even more thankful to be back home.  

Herb and the Amazing Honey-Do Pasture Fence

This post began with the soggy wet winter of 2012 when we realized that we couldn't keep our livestock in the barnyard another winter.  It's too small for our growing herd, and without gutters on the barn, all the rain gets channeled into the barnyard, leaving the animals standing in mud for much of the winter.

The obvious answer was to create a new pasture by fencing in the north edge of the property.  On this map of our pastures, the new fence line would go along the upper edge of the property from about the middle all the way to the lefthand corner (enclosing the white area that says "2.00 acres" and has a largish pink building with a branching green driveway.)  That area was already mostly fenced on three sides, the bottom (marked by x's) and the two ends where it joins the green and pink areas.

The idea was that this new pasture could double as a winter sacrifice area, still being handy to the barnyard for milking and feed storage.  I decided that we would name it Kara's Pasture and give the existing Kara's Pasture (in yellow) a new and very prosaic name, Middle Pasture.  My pasture names aren't very creative, but they tend to be fairly obvious and don't lend themselves to being misconstrued.

So on Dec. 17, 2013, Herb set to work with me as his assistant.  The first job was to walk the proposed fence line, find the surveyor's marks, and mark a trajectory for the new fence.  There was a lot of brush to be cleared away, including lots of rusted old fence that had grown into several trees.

By Dec. 31 we had cleared and marked all the open area and gone on into the patch of woods.

Here we're heading back to the house after finishing work for the day.  This new Kara's Pasture was going to be possible because Kara had moved to town and her old double-wide had finally been demolished.  The crew had finished the job by putting new gravel on the road to fill in the ruts left by their heavy equipment.  The gap across the road here and about 10 feet behind the barn were all that would need to be fenced on one end.  "All" that remained was about 900 feet along the edge of the hunting preserve, and we would have a pasture.

As things turned out, the pasture would not be finished in time for the winter of 2013.  Herb's classes started up again in January along with a busy counseling internship, and the fence was relegated to his Honey-Do List.  Finally, on May 12 (two days after graduation) he set to work--and promptly threw his back out!  After I finally dragged him to the chiropractor he felt better and began work in earnest on May 19.  By the 23rd he had finished the part of the fence in the open and was into the trees.

It may have been a relief in one sense to leave the hot open pasture, but working in the woods brought Herb its own set of challenges:  steep terrain, lots of brush to drag the cattle panels and fence posts through, and poison ivy.  By this time there wasn't much I could help with, not having the strength to drag stuff through the brush, so it became a one man job.

As Herb finished one section of fence he would move his bright orange hay string ahead and start on the next section.  Nine hundred feet can seem very long when the end isn't even in sight!

When Herb got towards the end I was able to be of a little assistance again, although I was milking Siobhan twice a day (since Wellie was born on May 26).  At least I could drive through the Middle Pasture in the Doodad and bring Herb ice water or drive him back to the house for lunch.

This flat area at the bottom of the hill with the creek on the left has always been one of my favorite spots.  I call it the "Billy and Blaze Trail" because it reminds me of a lane Billy might have ridden his pony along.  It's sure to be a favorite shady loafing area for the animals in the summer.

By May 30, Herb was setting the corner posts to tie the bottom of the new fence into the Back Pasture fence. 

Misty and Hero (you can see his white chest behind the wire) were Herb's constant and faithful companions, burrowing into the coolest places they could find and laying there panting until he was done for the day.

On May 31, the herculean task was done!  A solid line of cattle panels and T-posts ran all the way up to the barn and tied in behind it.

A sturdy section of 5-strand barbed wire fence crossed the creek bed, secured to a T-post in the middle.

Closing that last gap between the cattle panels and the barbed wire section was a momentous occasion!

My hero!

All that remained was to install and fill the water tanks at the new hydrant.

Kara's Pasture was ready for occupants!

The garage, re-sided with cement fiber and painted, was all that remained of Kara's old house.  A car port on the far side will provide cover for hay bales and animals during the coming winter.  Seeing the house demolished had been bitter sweet for us, but having the pasture finished was pure joy!

This pasture is great because it goes right up to the round pen and barnyard, so it's got easy access.  Hay bales are kept in the silver barn (far right), so it will be a short hop with the tractor to get them under the carport.

Most of Kara's Pasture is on high ground so it will drain well in winter, too.  While we plan to feed the horses their hay under the carport, we'll probably move hay bales for the cattle around in different places, wherever the pasture needs organic matter built up.  That way any hay that falls and is trampled in won't be wasted, but will enrich the soil.

Here are Ebby, over by the water tank, and Macree, under the tree, enjoying the new pasture on June 3.  Who knows where Tiggy is in all the long grass?

When we moved Ebby and her gang into Kara's Pasture on June 3, we had it temporarily closed off right beyond where Siobhan is in the photo above.  But we needed a real gate, so on June 14 Herb finished setting the posts for the new gate, which closes the gap across the driveway that runs between the barnyard and the Home Pasture.  We've left the temporary gate up at the other end because this allows Siobhan to get out and graze a bit in the "gap," usually in the evening since there's no shade.

With the gate, Kara's Pasture is complete, and the biggest item on Herb's Honey-Do List has been scratched off!  Now we can move animals from the barnyard to any one of our other pastures--or between any two pastures--without them ever going outside a fenced area.  That is very reassuring! All five pastures have shade and water hydrants, and four of them have shelter, too.  There will be no more long hoses running from the house down to the Lower Pasture and the Middle Pasture in the summer; no more hauling water down in the winter.

To re-cap, here's the original map of our pastures.

Here's the new map. The Middle Pasture has its new name, and Kara's Pasture (minus its house) is added to our list of pastures.

I just thought of a better name for it, though . . .  How about the "Amazing Honey-Do Pasture?"

Bye Bye, Birdie: A Tragic Turkey Tale

Back toward the end of September, I did a post about our turkeys ignoring the call of the wild turkeys.

They may not have been very adventurous back then, but earlier this month they got really adventurous--and came to call in the back yard.

So we clipped their wings, Herb put up chicken wire to block the handy cross rail they were landing on, and we put them back in the pasture where they belonged.  Or so we thought . . .

Then last week our contractor, who was putting a railing on the back porch, called me while I was driving home and said, "I'm being attacked by a turkey!"  It turned out he was kidding--about the "attack" part.  But there really was a turkey in the back yard hoping for a handout from his lunch!  I got home, caught the turkey and put him back where he belonged.  And that was that, for a while.

Then just this Monday, the 14th, Herb came in and told me that one of the turkeys was gone.  We concluded that it had gotten over the fence again, this time to join its wild fellows.  We decided we needed to slaughter the other turkey quickly, although it seemed to have settled in with just the sheep for company.  We set today as the sad day.  I knew we would really miss our turkey's cheerful "prrrrit! prrrrit!" but with half our Thanksgiving dinner running wild, we intended to make sure of the half that was left.

Then yesterday morning Herb came into the house with some tragic news.  Turkey Lurkey, as I had christened the "one that didn't get away," had drowned itself in the stock tank.  We simply could not figure out why--with the kiddie pool/duck pond right there full of water--our poor, silly bird had tried to drink out of the tank.  Even though we had intended to dispatch him within 24 hours, it made me sick to think of him dying that way.

Then yesterday afternoon as I was moving cattle, something caught my eye in the Home Pasture.  A closer look led me to the obvious conclusion that "the one that got away" hadn't gotten away at all.  In fact, it had met a fate worse than mere death--it had been killed by a predator, most likely a coyote.  The widespread clumps of feathers with blood here and there indicated that the poor turkey had fought and struggled before succumbing; the absence of bones indicated that it had been carried away.  Suddenly the stock tank drowning made more sense:  maybe the other turkey jumped up on the water tank to escape a return of the predator.

And where was Misty when all this happened?  In the barnyard with the ducks, guarding the chicken coop.  She can't be in two places at the same time, poor girl--and I must confess to being rather thankful that she didn't have to fight off whatever took the turkey.  Her presence might have discouraged the predator from attacking--or she might have been injured fighting it off.

We've learned several things from this tragic tale.  We like turkeys, and we'd like to try again.  But next time we'll follow advice we just got from our friends the Newswangers, who raise a whole flock of turkeys along with their Dexters:  We'll use electrified orange netting.  Predators can't climb it to get in (like they can with a fence), and turkeys can't climb it to get out.

This was a costly lesson for us since I now have to order an expensive organic turkey.  It also cost our poor turkeys because they died lingeringly and in fear, as opposed to quickly and mercifully.  Life on a farm isn't always stunning sunsets and cute calves.  Sometimes it's ugly and cruel, and we have to learn to take the bad with the good.

No Such Thing As a "Typical Day"

There's no such thing as a typical day here on Zephyr Hill Farm.  But this was yesterday.

If I was up this early every day, a sunrise like this would be typical!

This bouquet on the dining room table is definitely not typical; it's left over from Kara's art project.  Thank you, Kara, for the bouquet and the photo!

Hero regularly finds things to bark at, but it's unusual for him to see something from the back porch that makes him go tearing off toward the back pasture.  His urgency compelled me to hop in the Doodad and go check out the "disturbance."

Are you serious, Hero???  A squirrel up the pear tree???  I know he's a "sight hound," but I had no idea he could see a squirrel from that far away!

At least I know the pears are ripening.   And the Back Pasture needs bush-hogging.  That's typical!

It's typical that the cows start mooing when they see the Doodad.  They know it's the Great Purveyor of Treats.  Not this time, though--I wanted to finish my morning coffee.

For the past week it has been untypically typical to have a new bovine around.  Ebony and I have bonded enough that I was ready to put her out to pasture, but I wanted to try an experiment first.  I opened the gate to the stanchion and put feed in the box and another tub of it on the stanchion platform.  She stepped right up to trim the long Bermuda grass growing up behind the gate.

I clipped on her lead rope and encouraged her to step right up onto the milking parlor floor and then the stanchion.  With the tiniest pressure on the lead (immediately let up) she was quite curious and willing to explore.  Once she found the tub on the floor and got the taste, I dumped it into the feed box--and she stepped right into place.  I didn't close the neck bars, but just petted and scratched her all over and told her what a good cow she is!

When Ebby finished eating, I used the lead rope to guide her to step backwards off the stanchion and head to the door.  She stopped on the way to trim some more grass.  Move over, lawn guys, your job is in jeopardy!

 The first part of our walk to the pasture is through an unfenced area, so I kept it very relaxed.  When Ebby wanted to stop and eat, we did.

As soon as we got into the pasture and started down the hill, six heads shot up and 24 feet came galloping across the Lower Pasture.  That's typical, too.  Nobody misses a trick around here!

A large, nosy greeting committee lined up along the fence so everybody could get a look at the "new girl."

Ebby was excited and eager, but she let me lead her to the water first.  When I let her go, Boudin got to touch noses first.  Nothing is typical with him since he's new, too, but I get the impression that he's the self-appointed Spokesman for the bovines.  (Well, maybe until Royal arrives and grows into his job as Spokes-Bull!)

Sir Loin came down to the bottom of the Home Pasture, so I managed to finagle the sheep and turkey away from the gate and get Sir Loin out into the pasture with Ebby.  The sheep being that cooperative is definitely atypical!

After meeting the other cows through the fence, Ebby wandered off to explore her new pasture.  She reminded me of the Pied Piper with all three black cows stringing along behind everywhere she went.

And that was our Tuesday.  Typically, a pretty good day!