Well, we survived the first day and a half of going back to school. It already felt a little trying, but I know we’ll find our rhythm soon enough. I’m just not a huge fan of the school routine—there’s no time for quality moments in the morning, and evenings seem to fly by. That’s why it’s so important to me to make the most of the time we have before bed. Thankfully, I’m blessed to be at home when the kids arrive.
I am happy to report that our Pepper gal pulled through her bout of milk fever and ketosis just fine. After seeing her so close to her end, I’m ever thankful to see her morning and evening, waiting at the gate to be milked.
I pulled the kids into the cattle pen last Wednesday morning, where our Jersey, Pepper, was hanging out. She looked pretty darn close to calving, so I figured we could do a quick lesson on “calving signs.” Little did I know that she’d go into active labor just hours later—so what we were actually looking at was a cow very, very ready to calve.
After the fair wrapped up, the kids felt, well, a little lost. In the weeks leading up to it, their days were packed with training, washing, and grooming animals, plus finishing up projects and all of the entry work. Then suddenly, the fair was over, and they felt so strange with all the free time they now had.
My oldest loves the beef project in 4-H. Two years ago, she raised a second-year bucket calf and got a solid introduction to raising and handling a bigger beef. Last year, she raised and trained her first market steer. Everything besides a bucket calf, including a market steer, is a beef that was raised by its momma, so not a tame thing, nor are they little. Last year’s market steer was picked straight from the herd, and there couldn’t have been a better first steer to raise. With her diligence in training, he ended up being quite the puppy dog. With this year’s steer, she helped with the picking. We chose a nicely built calf in the winter and brought him home to the corral containing my son’s second-year bucket calf. He was deemed “Arnold.”
I told my son that his second-year bucket calf, Dodge, would be going to the feed lot that night after the premium auction, not the next morning as we discussed.
Sewing has been done, not without some seam ripping. Photos have been taken, gone through, and mounted. Wood crafts have been cut, sanded, and perfected to the standards of a child. Cutting boards have been planned and created through cutting and gluing. Robots have been made and tested. Flour has been milled to test recipe after recipe. Artwork has come alive on canvas. Vegetables have been planted and cared for in hopes of having produce in time. Chickens have been handled and preened. The bunny has been groomed and posed. Goats have been led and braced. Steers have been trained and fattened. Bottle after bottle of raw milk has been fed to the growing and ornery bucket calf. Halters have been fitted. Practice shows have gone on in the yard. Clothes have been ironed and modeled.
A grain cart operator is the combine operators right hand man, technically left hand, I guess, when it comes to unloading.
I took a very unsuccessful walk on Sunday morn. I went out to the far corner of the pasture to get the milk cow and came back with no milk cow.
There was a time, freshly married and pre-kids, when I bought low-fat sour cream because I thought it was healthier. Now, that didn’t last long at all and the “me” now cringes at the thought of ever having bought it, the additives and all in it.