We live in a very icy corner of the world this year.  Earlier this week, we had an ice storm that laid down a nice solid layer of ice over everything – and I really do mean everything.  I’m pretty sure here at the house, we haven’t gotten above freezing since, well, I’ll take that back.  It must have gotten warm enough here to thaw the top layer and make it nice and smooth.  Then it cooled off and froze again.  I’m trying to paint the picture so that what I describe next will make more sense.

I didn’t get home until almost 5:00 tonight, and still had to feed, since both Steve and Sarah are at work.  So, I came in and let the dogs out.  Zeke got to stay inside with Sprout today because the clip on his run is frozen shut, and encased in a nice solid layer of ice too thick to easily break (I did say everything).  They went out an did their business and then I changed.  It’s really not that cold – about 30 degrees – but I put on my Carhart coveralls anyway.  I figured I might need the padding. It was dark by this time, so all I had for light was the light from my beanie lamp and my flashlight.  That really might not be relevant, but it does add to the visual.  I was able to walk across the yard and pasture to the gate going to the back of the barn, mostly because the grass is long enough that it breaks beneath the ice.  I get to the barnlot gate, and the dirt path is a solid sheet of beautiful clear glass-like ice.  Not conducive to walking.  I try for the grass, but its so short it doesn’t break.  It’s just pokey ice.  There is no way walking is going to happen.  So, I approach the incline the only way I have left to me – I sit down and slide down the hill to the bridge on my hiney.  Remember that there is a matching hill up to the barn on the other side of the creek.  There’s no walking up that either.  So, I have to crawl on my hands and knees.  No, it’s not elegant, but the animals need feed.  They don’t seem to have the same troubles with the ice that I have. 

Everyone gets extra feed.  The one concession I make is that the cows don’t get their hay in the feeder across the icy lot.  They get it tossed out the door onto the ice.  I feel slightly bad about that, but then I remember what I had to do to get to the barn, and decided they could eat off the ground.  And yes, I had to reverse the process to get back to the house.  I’m going to go have a mocha.

The older two of the three calves.

Yesterday, Steve called back to the house as he was headed to work to say there was a new calf in the orchard.  Now, I’m still recovering from the plague, but that didn’t stop me from getting up to look and sure enough, there was a second little calf.  No, I didn’t go out to check gender.  After Steve’s experience, I’ve decided all calf handling will be done only after running the cows into the chute.  We can reach in and check gender and tag with cows safely confined. 

I was coming in after work today, and the mamma cows and the babies were gathered
under the apple tree so I stopped the car to see if I could get a picture, even though I wasn’t very close.  As I was fussing with the zoom on my phone, trying to get close enough to be able to get a half-decent photo, I noticed there were not two, but three calves.  Yes folks, we have three calves in the orchard.  There were two possibilities – either everyone had one calf, or someone had twins and there was still one to go.  Every calf had a cow paying attention to it, but that’s no guarantee, since we’ve got a cow out there that was nursing all three babies last year – even though one one of them was hers.  So, I went out with a better camera (I stayed outside the fence, thank you very much).  And sure enough, three calves, and each calf has a skinnier mamma paying attention.  Somehow, they all got synchronized.  Handy.  And not at all due to our superior planing.

There are  three calves.  You have to look close, because I couldn’t get any closer.  That cow on the right was already throwing dirt at me.  One calf is half-hidden behind the tree.

While I was out with the camera, I took a few photos of the back yard, such as it is, and the creek.  What we call the back yard is really a very  narrow spit of grass barely three lawn-mower passes wide.  I’m thinking eventually the grass will come out and be replaced by something else, as will that sidewalk you can see the cats sitting on, but that’s a ways down the road.  I do love that lilac bush you can see in the background, though.  It gets all the water it wants and is that lovely dark purple color that you just don’t get to see very often.  Steve trimmed it last year so it didn’t hang out so far over the walkway.  It looks like he’s going to have to trim it again this year.

The back creek is going down, but it is still running.  The longer it runs the better.  That just means the water table is staying nice and high.  Hopefully things won’t dry out so quickly this year.  Of course this is also contributing the to return of the swampy areas in the upper pasture.  If they stay around, we may have to figure out how to manage them.  I’m all for water, but I’d rather not have the mess of smelly decaying vegetation that is a swamp.  Ah well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.  There always seems to be another adventure on the horizon.  One more new thing to learn.  I guess it keeps us young.

Snow storm in February.  Lots of snow.

Opportunistic feeder.  Doesn’t like to share.

Late last week, Mother Nature decided to finally snow and snow.  We had 18 inches out on the farm.  It just kept coming down!  I managed to shovel the walkway the first two days but then Annmarie and Sarah had to keep it cleared as I was working.  There was so much snow that I started to back the Prius up to parking spot so I could just start the car and mash on the gas to make it down the driveway.  Our nephew fired up the tractor Saturday and scraped the driveway.  I never would have made it down the driveway in the Prius.  The snow was way too deep.

On Sunday, I fired up the tractor and got to try out the new insulated bib overalls Annmarie bought me on Saturday.  They worked very well.  I stayed out on the tractor for 6 hours clearing the driveway.  I only had one near miss.  I was pushing snow down by my mother-in-law’s house and got to close to the plastic fence.  Their is a little hill there that slants toward the fence.  I got the tractor stuck.  I had to go get Sarah and the pickup and pull the tractor out sideways.  We just put the front bucket down and pulled the back end then but the box blade down and pulled the front end.  It took some finagling but we got it out without injuring the fence.  I drove to Pilot Rock in the tractor for fuel and to dig out my parents driveway also.  I figured we were good for another 12 inches of snow. 

Old fence fragment near the Old Hen House

Yesterday when I went out to the barn I forgot to lock the inside gate shut and the sheep had access to the entire hay room all day long.  It was a mess.  I have no one to blame but myself for that mishap.

We had locked the horses back into the barn lot as they were not coming down for food.  They wait by the back door of the hay room for a chance to eat off the floor.  We sweep the loose hay over to the door area so the horses can eat the leftovers.  They still get food in their feeders but they seem to prefer the floor.  More chances to get grain only, I think. 

Those were Steve’s exact words when I described the following scenario to him.

Let’s back up a few days.  Sometime last week, we had the sheep in the barn, and I said to Steve, “It’s almost time to start locking them in at night.”  He disagreed, and none of the moms-to-be were side-splitting huge, so I didn’t argue.  We’ve been bringing the sheep in at night for feed, but not locking them in so that we have the opportunity to inspect the herd for new additions before they head out to graze in the morning. 

This evening, Zeke and I were bringing the sheep in to the barn, and one of the ewes was lagging quite a bit behind the rest of the flock.  I was concerned, so I moved to a better vantage point so I could see if she was hurt.  She was not hurt.  She had two little lambs with her!  It’s too early for lambs!  Based on the gestation time for sheep, these babies were conceived sometime around June 20.  Unfortunately, we have no idea who the father was.  We had several wethers who were not actually wethers (we call them one-nutters), as well as our new Barbados ram, so everything born this year will have to be eaten or sold.  No keepers in the batch.  That said, they sure are cute.  Photos tomorrow.