Posts tagged ‘caretakers’

Through the Lens

The news cameras rolled into Karval yesterday. The filmed the new sign reading, “100 Years of Community”. They filmed vacant buildings and then they got down to business.
They met with Marc Hollenbaugh who told them the truth. It’s bad. There are fields and pastures buried in someone else’s topsoil. The dirt, the actual definition of displaced soil, sits in drifts over fences, behind windbreaks, over piles of tumbleweeds, behind every piece of sage, and around houses. Fields of green wheat are blown smooth, the wheat invisible.
They ran into Nelson Taylor who didn’t sugarcoat anything. This will cost him hundreds of thousands of dollars. His numbers are conservative. He’s tired of the wind. He is an institution in Karval and he is worried.
The cameras missed a few things that are harder to see. They missed the frustration each time a piece of legislation is passed at the “inconvenience” of rural Colorado. These are not people who can bear any more burden nor can they vote with any more passion. Read more…

Pray for Rain

dirt blizzard 3dirt blizzard 2dirt blizzard 1Pray for rain. Please.

The road graders rolled out of the county yard early this morning to try to repair the damage. Not a speck of gravel left on the county roads, ranchers’ teeth rattling around the washboard-covered curves this morning as they set out to feed cows, check for calves, and start the neverending task of fixing fence.

The fences are all bearing the load in one way or another. Some lean under an invisible force to the south. Others stand in sand, covered in tumbleweeds, with drifts of dirt from someone’s field or pasture covering them to the top wire. They look like something from the Dust Bowl or the desert or somewhere haunted by ghosts of people Read more…

From the FarmWife Project, I Should Have Known Better, Amy Vice

I had plans yesterday.  I was going to stay home, catch up on laundry, do some spring cleaning, and listen to good music.  My husband took my youngest with him to the farm to do chores.  She is my busy ornery child, so I was thinking about how much more I was going to get done without her help.  They had 3 calves to tag and then move momma and baby to the other pasture.  We have a pasture we calve all the cows out in and then we move them to another a day or two after birth as we feed them differently according to their needs.

Heading down the road.

They weren’t gone 20 minutes when the phone rang.  Our neighbor needed to move some cows down the road, just over a mile.  He always helps us, so we are always glad to return the favor.  I love our neighbor, not only is he always willing to help, he is so kind to our girls and is always helping them with their horses when he can.  His cows are also slower movers than ours are, so it was a perfect time to let the girls ride and help.  So I quickly threw on my jeans, a sweatshirt, and my new tennis shoes.  I got my other daughter dressed and was going to take her to the farm so she could go with them.  I was going to drop her off and have the house to myself for the morning!  I should have known better… Read more…

A Goat Named Pig

We have a calf named Lucy but please don’t tell her she’s a calf. She thinks she’s a sow.

Lucy the Sow. Sigh.

Lucy bellies up to the feedline with the sows, headbutts the bullies out of the way, and protects the “other” sows from the pesky steers who occasionally make their way to the sow pasture. They’re as perplexed as cattle can be by Lucy and baffled in their own little bovine way as to why she won’t join them. Read more…

From the FarmWife Project: No Easy Task, A Rancher’s Wife

I had this (what seemed to be a) great idea to milk one of our goats and make goat cheese. I looked forward to it all week. I found what I thought was the best (and easiest) recipe online, bought cheesecloth’s at the store and picked a jar I thought would work best. By the time Saturday came I was ready. You and me mama goat – it’s on.
Saturday arrives. I head out to help with the chores and to milk my goat. The first thing I realize is I have to catch the goat. I guess I just thought  the goat would just be there waiting for me, ready and willing to be milked. Riight.
Once reality hit I turned to J and asked you are going to help me, right? I enlisted J to help me for obvious reasons one being my safety. I have yet to be hit aka rammed by a goat or a sheep and it’s not something that I have on my To-Do list. I’ve heard it hurts. Read more…

Momma said…

Me and Caden with the snack-size, Farm Fun Barbie Board. Note: the size of the board and the size of the boar. And the boots. And the fact that he's wearing shorts and I'm wearing short sleeves...in Colorado...in March. Did you see the boots? You can be jealous of my style, I don't mind.

Momma said there would be days like this.

The good news is that I didn’t spill my iced tea when I fell on my face in front of Loaf n Jug today. My head didn’t bleed when I forgot just how tall the inside of the stock trailer is and the bleeding on my hand has just about stopped.

Momma should have named me Grace.

Given my cat-like relexes and unparallelled shows of athleticism today, it was a fabulous day to load hogs to go to the sale barn. When sows and boars aren’t doing their job and producing quality litters of piglets, we cull them, or send them to the sale barn. Today was the day for six of them.

I wasn’t exactly planning to load hogs today but, as often happens, I found myself in weird combinations of clothing paired with rubber boots. Today was one of those times. Luckily, my pink polka dotted rubber boots complimented the capri pants I was vaccuuming my living room in when I dropped everything to load hogs. Read more…

Lions, piglets and calves. Oh, my!

I think mountain lions are pretty. I also know that mountain lions and piglets mingle poorly.

A mountain lion, weighing in at 130 lbs., was taken within five miles of our house this week. I know the arguments against shooting these beautiful creatures. I also know that the lions are a direct threat to local ranchers as we are all in the midst of calving. Read more…