Winter Adventures: Mastitis, Mink, and Midnight Madness

The Big Guy went to Colorado for a few days to visit his mom and brother.  While he was gone, our ewe who lost one of the triplets got mastitis.  What we don't have are pictures of Laura milking the ewe's bad teat and bottle feeding the little ones or my cornering #108 every morning for a lovely dose of penicillin.  What we do have are pictures of the crew eating breakfast.

  The Big Guy came home to a fresh layer of snow--if he'd been traveling home from Chicago, he wouldn't have made it for a day or two.  It was really very beautiful...and heavy.

That week we trapped a mink in the barn.  If adolescent boys are ever in doubt, this is a good instance of your scent giving you away.  A shower or distance (either one) would have kept this bad boy out of the hoosegow.



Then, late Friday night, as the snow was melting, Neighbor Dave called, wondering if we knew any reason for there to be traffic to and from Mrs. Hawley's.  No, not to our knowledge.  He called the sheriff.  Matthew and I jumped in one of the big trucks and made our way toward the river where we found 5 teen-aged girls, stuck.  Their little car apparently didn't "think it could."  And it didn't. Why a carload of young ladies would be on a dirt road no one had traveled or plowed would be a mystery--if we hadn't been teenagers ourselves.

I gave them my cell phone number and we went home.  Realizing their friends couldn't come to their aid and (perhaps) they were unwilling to call parents, they called us.  The Big Guy started the tractor and we rocked our way down the highway, pulling over long enough for the sheriff to pass. We got out at the crossroads, shook hands with the sheriff, towed the girls out, shook hands with the sheriff again and left as he approached their car, asking for insurance and I.D.'s. By 1:00 a.m. our world settled down.

The Rescuer

We sure hope spring is on the way. Winter's about outworn it's welcome. May the adventures continue in your lives as well, blessed with the goodness only God can provide.



Arrival

The first of the spring lambs arrived tonight--triplets!

The Big Guy and Ryan knew they were on the way before supper. At our children's request we had a New York supper tonight--bread, cheese and fruit.  While on vacation in New York City a few years ago, we enjoyed fabulous meals out and about, but only one a day.  The other meal was simple fare in the flat we rented, gleaned from corner grocers nearby.

The Big Guy (tBG) checked on progress in the barn an hour later.  Not yet. 

Half an hour ago we went out to the barn and found the mama and babies, safe and sound.

TBG and Ryan transferred the babies from the back corner to a clean, dry stall, holding them close enough to the ground so the mama would follow her "prodigies" who moved at an incredible speed for newborns.

The Big Guy instructing Ryan--and to answer your silent question, the rag he grabbed was hot pink....

 

Once in the stall, TBG told her how to extract the wax plugs from the ewe's udder.

 

 

Then he told her they'd need "the bucket."  "The bucket" has the tools and supplies we've found helpful over the years of delivering lambs.  It's resupplied each winter and hung on a horseshoe that's been nailed near the jugs.

 

 

With scissors and iodine in hand, tBG and Ryan trimmed and dipped each lamb's umbilical cord.

This little one got a little dirty.  By morning he'll be clean and dry.

 

After providing the ewe with fresh hay, water, and grain, Ryan checked on her two caged rabbits while three others hopped past our feet and down warm tunnels.

 

 

Hoover, the dog, is always happy to be of assistance.  And, yes, do you see the newly-painted livestock trailer?  If only I'd gotten pictures of tBG's indoor painting tent and apparel!

So, despite weather outside that's frightful, Spring has arrived at Pine Ridge Farm.

Building, Mourning, Celebrating...Together

At the time of our last post, Grace had just finished an interview with Zoe Martin of Iowa Farmer Today. 

Grace after the interview....

That same weekend, The Big Guy's brother and his son, came from Colorado.  It was a party--all four of our children, the Big Guy, the Uncle, the Cousin and the Boyfriend (I'm really glad we're past calling him her "special" friend!)--worked together on the new shop office between Christmas and New Year's.

The jefes making a plan (Spanish for "boss," used frequently at our house).

Matthew staining windows while the Cousin sweeps.

Grace's boyfriend, The Boyfriend, the carpenter.

The Friday after Christmas, we hosted a youth event at church and brought appetizers: little smokies, spinach dip in a bread bowl, and a layered Mexican dip with chips.  That made lunch on Saturday easy-peasy. 

For lunch each day the crew was here, we loaded up food from the house and set things up in the poker corner (a large, round conference table in the upstairs loft of the shop).  After a holler, each person grabbed a drink and headed up the angled stairs.  I think we had a great time--then again, I wasn't eating my meal at shoulder level from a lawn chair!

That Saturday we decided to open the mysterious hay bale.  I was bringing food down from the loft when the man-door on the shop opened and slammed.  Laura's wailing echoed across the aluminum walls.  Her new bunny, Cutie, was dead.  She'd gone to say hello after lunch and found a still, lifeless body.  After hugs and consolation, she set to work crafting a coffin.  Needless to say, none of us could handle the sight of another death that afternoon.

So, we continue to wait for "the un-baling."

On the up side, a few weeks later, everyone is back in the rhythm of school and work.  The Big Guy is trekking to and from various elevators. Matthew has started his second semester at college and the girls are well into their third quarter of the year.

We celebrated the Big Guy's birthday this evening before he headed in to a school board meeting.  If you want to know more about the cake, Grace may have it on her blog in a day or two. 

Happy birthday, Big Guy!  We love you.

Christmas Blitz and Visitors

We've played in the snow,

decorated the tree,

modeled Christmas gifts,

baked and eaten Christmas delights.

For the recipe, click this link.

And then, after the glitz and blitz had settled, it was time to get to work. 
David Tometich made a trip to shear our sheep. 

Shearing the last of the sheep.

No one but a shepherd understands why we shear them in winter, but its for a number of reasons (not all of them are privy to me, either).  Our ewes are bred to have lambs when it's still cold and no matter who you are or how cold it is, a dingle-berry-infested environment does not make for happy, healthy babies.  Also, a cold sheep will seek shelter from harsh weather.  They're not the brightest animals in the world, so if they register the actual temperature, there's a chance we'll find new lambs in a protected place during a classic mid-west ice storm.

David Tometich and the Big Guy weighing the wool.

Do we keep the wool? No.  We don't have a market or the ability to process it correctly.  David Tometich pays us for the wool.  We pay him to shear.  It's a win-win proposition, but we end up with healthy, clean sheep as our compensation.

That same day we were thrilled to have Zoe Martin, a field representative from Iowa Farmer Today,  interview Grace for a feature article this next month.

We'll let you know when and where it comes out--and we haven't forgotten to let you in on the secret in the hay bale, we just haven't gotten to it yet (Believe it!  Or not!).

After the interview, the Big Guy came to the house to sample goodies and get a report.  If the experience can be measured by Grace's after-interview demeanor, it was a huge success.  Thank you, Zoe!

Today, with family visiting from Colorado and a hopeful expectation of the Boyfriend, we are planning to break open the bale--and resume work on the new office (pictures coming soon to a blog near you).

Snow Day in Iowa

It's a snowy day in Iowa.  School was cancelled.  Traffic is slow to zero.  Slow is flying, ice is clinging, trees are dancing.

Grace was frosting sugar cookies and making cinnamon-swirl pancakes when Laura rushed in from the barn, a surprise in hand.  Who knew Babbit the Rabbit had babies?

The kitchen is empty as children have run outside to look for treasure--and to make a cozy home for a new little bunny, "The Cuteness." 

The joy of snow!  It's already a good day at Pine Ridge Farm!

Coming Up on Christmas!

Yesterday Matthew came home from college for Christmas break.  The Big Guy's been working on an addition to the shop and they were both very tired:

The Big Guy contracted 28 loads of grain for the month of December. He has already spent quite a bit of time driving and sitting in line, but left a great deal for Matthew to finish off the next couple weeks (Matthew's been looking for a few extra dollars to line his pocket).

The weather has been unseasonably warm.  Last weekend Grace and The Boyfriend spent the afternoon making a fort out of hay bales in the haymow.  You can see TB peering down at me from the top of the pile:

And in their adventuring, they found something quite curious:

The Big Guy says it's a raccoon--a SLOW raccoon.  The kids are hoping to dissect the bale of hay over the holidays and see what's really inside.  Until we find out, it's rather creepy.  Okay, so it's creepy whether we find out or not.

In other farm news, the chicks are growing--but they move fast enough to elude the camera most of the time.  Can you see them following the two black mama chickens?  The mild weather has given them a jump start on a harsh winter.

Christmas is closing in upon us.  From our house to yours, blessings as you anticipate the Savior's birth!

Fall: In Season and Out of Season

One of the really fun things about living on a farm is sharing it--especially in the Fall.  A couple of weeks ago we invited international students who attend the University of Iowa to come out for a bonfire and hay-rack ride.  We thought you'd enjoy seeing pictures of students from China, Iraq, and Burkina Faso, among others.  For many of them, it was the first time they had cooked food over an open fire (American hot dogs and s'mores, anyway).
 

 

During the day, the Big Guy finished spreading potash on the fields before turning over the soil.  Because of our location, he drove the semi-truck to the Mississippi River and watched as they loaded fertilizer onto his truck from the barge one time,

 

 

...and from the large storage facilities another time.

 

 

Then, despite the unseasonable weather, he came home one night to find five brand new chicks wandering and peeping outside the hen house.  After a look inside he discovered more.

 

 



And what should pop up in the barn but a baby bunny, fuzzy-headed and dark, flashing out from under a wooden pallet.  Life in the country.  It happens.  Life.