The Great Deluge That Didn't Happen

As Phil drove home Wednesday from his morning meeting with guys from church, he heard about a flood warning for our area. Since our cows were still in the lower pasture, in the flood plain, we brought them upslope when he got home. This is better for hay delivery, too: the road to them is awfully steep and slick, and the lower pasture gets soggy at times. With the daily rain we've had, we weren't sure how we'd get a hay bale to the cows.

The cows had done a good job cleaning up the pasture. If you look at the "Potato Harvest" entry on August 1, you can see the same view as the one above, just two weeks later. Below is the interior of that pasture, along one of the "cow trails." They really ate everything from about 5' down, except the wild roses.


Or another view. Before.

And after.

After we moved the cows (thankfully, without incident), we spent some time getting everything ready for the deluge. I planted some lettuce seeds, and we pitched hay to the animals.

But while it did rain a bit, we didn't have anything close to a flood. It strikes me now that I almost felt cheated at the time: where's a good natural disaster when you're prepared and ready?! Maybe I should be thankful instead that our fence remains standing. Goodness gracious.

Phil has been reluctant to clear the rest of the lower pasture. The truck has a leaky hydraulic fluid hose, which means he has no power steering and the brakes don't work that well. (!) Even if the ground were firm and dry, which it isn't.

But without the truck to haul his stuff, he was looking at carrying his chainsaw and protective gear (Kevlar chaps to keep him from cutting off his leg, hard hat to keep him from braining himself with a falling log, eye covers). Also fuel for the chainsaw and bar oil, so he can refill after an hour of heavy use. Then an ax and hatchet, a needed beverage (by appearance, I would not be surprised to find that he sweats quarts, if not gallons), a peavey to help roll logs out of the way, and probably another item or two I'm forgetting.

That's quite the quantity to haul. So instead, we set up a tent in the lower pasture where he can leave his equipment overnight. So practical! Now he just has to haul liquid down.

He spent about four hours this afternoon cutting brush. He was stung again before he located the ground bees' hive. Now we know where it is and can leave it alone. It's maybe 18 inches from a small trio of trees. Phil wonders if they built their nest in the roots, so when he chainsawed the three trees down, the bees were not happy. Their entrance is maybe the size of a penny: really small.

After four hours, you can see, in the photo below, Phil walking down the path he'd just cleared. (What?! You can't tell there's a path there?)


He actually did make great progress clearing: the entire swath in this photo, plus a little more, now has a section of open land, so he can fence there along Hog Creek.

I love our creek.

Phil spent some time today putting all 21 ruminants in the same fencing. The sheep had escaped the triple strand wire, and were grazing at will in the upper pasture. No, no. So now we are trying out the cows in the sheep's electric netting. So far so good.

Speaking of babies, I was thrilled yesterday to read what is, I think, the solution to our calf problem. Should both calves live (as we hope), I had read and been advised to 1) pull the baby off the mom immediately and feed replacer (no way!) or 2) keep the baby on the mom and milk what you can. This is more natural, and I can understand the benefits to the calf. Obviously, mother's milk is the best for growing strong and lasting animals. But we sort of want milk for ourselves, too, and I think that gets more difficult as the calf continues to grow.

Well, Kate Yegerlehner of Illinois wrote an article on Nurse Cows. Basically, we would let both calves nurse their mothers for a few days. Then we would move, say, Bethany's cow to Bianca. Bianca would nurse the two babies and not milk at all. Bethany would be only a milk cow and not nurse at all.

This avoids all the hassle of trying to separate babies from mothers at night, and provides a (hopefully) constant supply of milk.

I LOVE this idea. I like it so much, I told Phil that we should get another bred cow so Fern will have company (and a nurse cow) when she gives birth. Phil stared at me in amazement: "We're trying to destock and you're looking at buying another heavy eater? We don't even know if we like dairying yet!"

Right.

And we are watching Fern like a hawk. She will be 21 days from previous heat tomorrow, so now we will know if her previous AI took. Oh, do we hope so.

P.S. Jadon is 3000 days old today, I believe, and I forgot to tell him while he was still awake. Blast!