The End of the Thaw

The problem with a January thaw is that you get your hopes up, and invariably your hopes are dashed. I guess January is the wrong time of year for hope, and a better time for stoicism.

We got a miserable little dusting of snow yesterday and last night—the kind of snow that looks like cold Appalachian wretchedness, with bare frozen ground showing through, and the mud of last week frozen into ankle-busting pits and humps—but this weekend looks like a real snowstorm, and if it can’t be summer, it might as well be snowy.

The girls brought in 5 3/4 gallons of milk yesterday. The day before I made a gallon of yogurt, a gallon and a half’s worth of fromage blanc, and gallons (it seems like) of hot cocoa. It’s now time to start making real cheese again. How unutterably lovely.

Cow Hunt

At 3 am I was woken from a deliciously deep sleep by the sound of cowbells outside my window. That’s never good—it means the cows have gotten out of the barn, which they had, by pushing open the big sliding front door. This is one of the dangers of having the cows in the aisle instead of a stall.

So I dragged poor Bernard out of bed (ED is nursing a sore throat, so we left her sleeping), and we threw on clothes and boots and headed out into the wild windy night. Our hearts sank  when we first stepped outside, because there was no longer any clank of cowbell, but we found them headed into the hayfield next door—they were just being really, really stealthy. So we each grabbed a cow, and walked them down to the barn, where we tied them. That’s when we noticed that we only had one calf—Patience. Somehow in all the commotion we had failed to miss Maeby.

We walked all over our farm, up and down the road, and through the hayfield looking for her. Then we let Pearl out, and followed her. She made a beeline for the hayfield, but once there she proceeded to calmly graze as if nothing was amiss. After a good long while of this we reluctantly gave up, put Pearl in the stanchion in the milking shed by the house, and went to bed. It was 4:30 by then, and I never could go back to sleep, what with the wind, and Pearl calling her baby, and my general worry over the whole thing.

When it finally got light this morning we started the hunt again, this time with a frantic Pearl shooting streams of milk as she called and called, and after hours and miles of searching, we found her. Right where Pearl had hidden her: in a little patch of briers right on the side of the road, a spot we passed within ten feet of a dozen times today. Fortunately this time as we walked by with Pearl, Maeby stood up. We were all overjoyed and relieved.

So now the cows will be better secured at night, and so will the calves, since we’re about ready to start separating mamas and babies at night so we can milk in the mornings.

Siegfried

Isn't he noble?

Isn't he noble?

We traded Liath, our LGD, for a pair of geese this past fall, which I think has been a good deal all around. Unfortunately, just before Christmas a fox grabbed the female, leaving a very dejected and lonely gander who lives in the yard and announces all visitors. Siegfried has bonded with a stack of shiny stainless steel stovepipes that are on a pallet in the side yard waiting to be used in the installation of the new wood heat stove. That’s going to be a sad day. Now, whenever something upsets Siegfried he goes over to his beloved stovepipes, puts his head down and kind of inside, and croons softly to them. If anybody has a mate for him, please let us know! (You may notice I refrained from asking “for a goose”—I tried that on facebook already, with unfavorable results!)

Cows and Milk and Mud (With an updated calf picture)

We’re sort of missing the snowy colder weather—this rain and mud we’re having is so much more difficult to deal with! Heating the house is certainly easier, but sheesh! The mud!

Here's Patience, looking like a deer at one week old

Here's Patience, looking like a deer at one week old

The calves are both wonderful—very, very helpful when we’re working in the barn. As you can see from this picture, Leslie Patience is growing very fast and looking gorgeous—very deer-like, don’t you think? She likes to jump the manure cart when I’m cleaning the barn aisle.

It’s a relief and a delight to be back in the milk. Once Pearl’s milk is online, I’ll start making cheese and yogurt again.

Pearl’s Baby

We walked down to the barn before retiring for the evening, and Pearl was licking off a new little heifer calf. Very vigorous and cute! Pictures tomorrow…

No News Yet

Pearl and Maude, taking up a lot of room

Pearl and Maude, taking up a lot of room

Yesterday was cool and damp and misty—I had forgotten how much I love that kind of weather, which for some reason I find very uplifting and energizing. Unless it goes on for too long, of course!

Yesterday Bernard milked Maude and brought in a gallon and a quart, and today ED brought in a gallon and a half. We celebrated Bernard’s birthday and the return of the milk last night with bangers and mash, chocolate pudding, and a couple of episodes of the BBC’s All Creatures Great and Small. Altogether a delightful day.

Today was sunny and warm, and ED and I worked in the barn cleaning up after the cows who are living in the aisle. We let them roam free all afternoon while we raked out the aisle and limed any wet spots and left the doors open for the breeze to blow through and dry things out.

Tomorrow is Pearl’s due date, and we’ve been making nightly barn checks. Can’t wait to see that new baby!