Fleeting Signs of Spring

Nothing beats the first smell of spring dirt wafting through the air; the tug of mud under one's boots; the chorus of birds feeling the strength of the morning sun; the birth of youngsters both domestic and wild.

First steps of the season with the pull of mud on my heels.

A few days ago we experienced these signs of spring.  They were fleeting, but oh so nice! 

In this short window of time, we were lucky to have our first calf of the season.

We were also fortunate to arrive home from work just in time to watch the birth.  No matter how many times one sees such an event, one cannot help at marvel in the perfection of it all.  

The instinct to mother.  

The inherent desire to live.

Come on little one.  Time to meet the world.

That's it. Open your eyes.

Lift your head.

Say "hello" to the world.

Things were a little rocky in the beginning for our first baby of the year.  Fortunately we have winning nurse combo which includes a big sister and little brother.  Together they do remarkable work.

Heat of a woodstove, a bottle of warm milk and tender hands, equals,......... a very happy baby

Dry, warm and ready to find mom.

As quickly as the temperatures climbed, the thermometer has again descended back to winter.

Birds are silent with the returning cold.  Instead morning finds them quiet, huddled in shelter and fluffed for warmth.

Hey you in the window with the camera and the hot cup of coffee.  You forgot to fill the bird feeder.

But the days are getting longer.  The sun stronger each day. The lilacs are becoming thick with buds.  

Spring is on the way.  

I saw it.

It visited the other day.

Country Humor

Some flying fun in our cycle of snow

Our humor around here is brash.

I contribute this to our attempt at a simple existence.  You know, growing and eating things around ya'.

Some may think we take eat local movement to an uber level, but we do not.  We are simply just striving to be a little more self sufficient.

In reality the whole self sufficient thing just follows cycles.  In our simple world it means:

• Mushrooms and wild turkey in the spring 
• Fresh strawberries in spring and frozen strawberries in February
• Putting up hay in the sweltering July sun and feeding it in a polar vortex
• Scrounging for empty canning jars in October and struggling to find storage space for empty canning jars in March

What happened at the vet is Little Guy's effort at compartmentalizing the cycles to which he is exposed.

Several bull calves went to vet the other day.  In our cow-calf management we choose not use hormone implants.  We castrate bull calves making them steers.  We do not do this at their birth, but rather wait until they are older.  This gives them testosterone to help them grow - naturally not artificially.

Here is the process:

Cut and pull by the vet.

A brief bawl of ouch by the calf.

A quick toss of the removed rocky mountain oysters.

When I snapped this photo Little Guy was standing beside me.  He was taking in the scene and trying to place the event somewhere in his brain to make sense of it.  Picture him squirming from one foot to the other with his hands in his pockets.  

In this moment he asked the vet a question:

"Do those grow back?"

 There was quite a long conversation between Little Guy and the vet.

 Little guy listened intensely. He learned a new piece of a cycle.

All of us grown ups stifled our giggles caused our brash country humor.

I will cherish this memory.  Perhaps I will share it someday. Like at his wedding during the toast? 

Attempt at Hoity-Toity Valentines

Let's start this off with a confession.

I stink at small details.  Give me a big brush and I can go to town towards a goal.  The bigger the brush, the higher the perspective, the better.  Call me the big picture gal who is always flying at 50,000 feet.

This is why I stink at things like Valentines Day.  Valentines is about minute details which are not my niche.

Due to the incessant winter, school was cancelled on Valentines 2014.  Little guy was so dishearten about not having his class party.  He was down right mopey.

Rescue mom instinct kicked in.

The plan:  a hoity-toity meal under candle light.

I lucked out.  A beef roast with potatoes and carrots was simmering in the crock pot.  Add a fresh salad and a dessert.  Hoity-toity and simple as pie.

And what for a dessert?  Something simple and elegant and just make a statement with the presentation.

My thought:   an effortless parfait.  Layer a little pudding, fruit, and granola in a wine glass.  Easy and quick.

Flying at my usual 50,000 feet, I missed a few details.  I had no pudding or granola on hand. The fruit was all frozen.

On behalf of Valentines Day, I overcame the devilish details.

An hour and half later, here's the "easy-peasy" completed dessert.

Not too bad.  I have to admit feeling pretty super mom.

So what if I had to wash the wine glasses first due to dust from no use?  So what if the candle holder hunt took me numerous catch-all places in the house?

So what if the kitchen looked like this?

The behind the scene look at a  valiant attempt at hoity-toity. 

I will not share with you the sauce pan with scorched homemade pudding soaking in the sink or the kitchen floor covered with corn starch from the explosion of opening the new box.

But I will share with you Little Guy's comment:

  Mom, I do not like all the stuff on my pudding.  I like plain better.

And this is why I tend to cook things in one big pot while flying at 50,000 feet.

Hope everyone had a Happy Valentines. 

Trip to the Vet

Had to make a trip to the vet the other day because of the 2012 drought.

Huh?  What you say?

The thing about raising your own calves - things are delayed. .

Something messes up and you have to wait a year for reconciliation.

Because of the high temperatures in summer 2012 we had several cows that did not become pregnant during the normal breeding season.  These cows are called "open".

When temperatures soar over 100 F (like they did in the summer of 2012) cows would rather not get their groove on.  No groovin', no calvin'.

So we had choices:
*don't expose them to the bull any longer and keep them to breed back the next year so all your cows calf during the same season,
*sell them,
*or expose them to the bull and get a calf, but during a different season than the others.

So we left the bull with the cows longer than normal back in 2012.  This way we could at least get a calf in 2013.

But not a spring born calf but a fall calf.

Hence we had calves born in September 2013.

Straying from topic.  Vet trip.  Drought 2012.

So here we are in February 2014, and these fall calves are still with their mommas all because of the summer of 2012. Follow me?

Anyway it is time for the young hon-yaks to get doctored.

There weren't many head to work, so we decided to take them to the vet.

Here they are loaded in the trailer.

Here are their mommas looking on with concern.

Where are you taking my baby?

Momma!

At the vet, getting the calves to run down the chute requires everyone's assistance.

Doc doing his magic.

Calf not liking the magic.  

Don't worry guy.  You'll be home with your momma in just short while.

We're home!

Oh momma, you cannot believe what happened!

Mommas always make things better.

Enjoy the time with your mommas.  In just a few weeks you are getting weaned,  so get your motherly lovin' while you can.

Feeding the Cows While Wishing for Spring,......

Arctic cold has once again descended.

Even though our brains are daydreaming of spring, daily chores still get done.

Feeding cows hay is probably the most important chore.

It begins with a cue from the cows.  They come up into the lot stand, bawl, stare and stare and stare and stare.  Their eyes follow anything walking in the yard.  It resembles trying to get the attention of a waiter at a restaurant waiter.

Excuse me.  Please take my order.

Stare, stare, stare.  Don't you know in cow language stare means hunger?

The tractor gets fired up and runs for a bit to get warm.  Off to the hay pile.

Dilemma:  go fast and have the increased wind take your breath away BUT get the chore done faster? OR go slow to have less wind in your face BUT prolong the frigid ordeal?

Back from the hay pile with the first load.

Headed out to the pasture.

Even with the cold air making your eyes water, the views are still awesome.  Just a bit blurry due to tears from the cold!

View from the tractor seat.  Gotta love the hills,.....

Now to Drop off the bales.

Front end first.

Back end last.

Another trip to the hay pile.

Luckily we decided to stand watch at the open gate.  From down over the hill some "cattle teenagers" noticed they were minus their mothers and decided they did not like it.  They came a runnin'.

Mom, Mother, Maaammma.  Why did  you leave us all alone?

Let us in, let us in.

Meanwhile back with another load of hay,...

Flipping the bales on end.  Getting ready to put on the hay rings.

Picking up the hay rings.

And here is where the battery in the camera died.  So you will have to trust me the bale rings got picked up with the front end loader and placed around the new bales.

There is a legitimate excuse for the dead battery:  Daydreaming.  Daydreaming about the change of season. You know no frigid air but rather warmer temperatures with light breezes out of the south.  Green grass.  Budding plants.  Mud on your boots.

BUT spring can be questionable.  Does this look like spring?

  Snow on pear blossoms?

Snow on peach blossoms?

Snowmen in May?

No matter what, one cannot help but still daydream for spring 2014,..........even if it means snow on the daffodils.