Goodbye to The Alvord

We’ve spent the past 11 years living and working for an enormous working cattle ranch, which covers 250,000 acres of deeded and permitted land. It’s a 4 hour trip to the closest town of any size and 2 hours to the small town of Burns Oregon, which has a Safeway and one other supermarket, a ranch store and a Dairy Queen. There’s not much else, so we tend most often to take the 4 hour drive to Idaho. Because of the time involved and cost of fuel, we manage to make these trips only 4x a year. We coordinate groceries, Dr appt’s, errands and animal feed into one trip every 3 months. We often use the large livestock trailer to fit everything in. 

Cashiers at Costco used to raise their eyebrows at the amount of food we would buy but have since grown accustomed to us. Since there is sadly no pizza delivery, all 3 meals have to be made at home. Hardly any prepared or processed foods are purchased as it takes up too much valuable space. We have 3 upright freezers, 2 refrigerators and a large pantry. We buy flour in 50 lb sacks (for those days I want to save time and not have to mill flour to make bread), as well as sugar, brown sugar, rice and wheat berries (to be made into flour). I had dairy goats, a couple of Jersey cows, chickens, ducks, sheep, rabbits and a garden, much of our food was raised at home. I did a lot of canning which saved a lot of freezer space as well as for those nights I was too tired from riding and needed a quick meal at hand. I can soups, chili, shredded Mexican beef, beef and pulled pork for sandwiches, chicken and rabbit for casseroles, beef and chicken stock, vegetables, pie filling etc. It’s amazing the difference in flavor and texture between home canned foods and the stuff you buy in the store. The first 50 years of my life, I didn’t mind cooking when I had to, but it wasn’t something I looked forward to. Having all fresh ingredients actually made it fun and I surfed the internet always looking for great new recipes. And boy did I find some!

garden bounty

nothing beats homemade bread and apple pie

Jack Cheese

homemade butter pats

home raised chicken

I made all of our dairy products. Cheese, cream cheese, sour cream, whipped cream, ricotta, butter, ghee, etc. My Jersey cow gave amazingly rich creamy milk, and I actually had to use a spoon to scoop the heavy cream off of the top, as it was that thick.

I spent my days riding with the cowboys (up here they are buckaroos) and cowgirls (who are every bit as capable and rugged as the men). The ranch owner has 5 kids who were all homeschooled and have worked since they could stretch their toddler legs across the back of a pony saddle. It warmed my heart to see this small microcosm of what used to be typical America, where the family works, eats and plays together. The kids learn to rely on one another and instead of competition, there is camaraderie. They learned the convictions of their parents without the outside interference of peer pressure and societal corruption. They appreciate their family, friends, the value of hard work, the blessings of God and their place in the world. They are strong and capable, prepared to handle whatever life deals to them because they have support, encouragement, and the knowledge that their contribution makes a difference.

We gathered cattle out of pastures that were thousands of acres, sorted and separated pairs, gathered them into corrals for doctoring, branding or whatever else needed to be done. Some days were long, 11 hours or more in the saddle. It was beautiful out on the range, with deer, antelope, pheasant, coyotes, even a cougar, the occasional badger and other wildlife. From the reverence felt watching a bald eagle soar on the wind currents, to the delight of the song of meadowlarks, I never wished to be anywhere else.

When I’d get back I’d call in my sweet Jersey cow, and rest my head in her flank, relaxing to the sound of her chewing her grain and hay, the pleasant grassy, cowy smell of her and startling from the occasional swat of her tail. I’d strain the milk into jars and chill it, and fix dinner and do whatever other chores I had around the house before bedtime.

I had opportunity to do things I would not otherwise have been able to do. Helping to gather, brand, separate cattle day after day in a spectacularly beautiful setting. Enjoying my little flock of sheep and their Livestock Guardian Dogs, my chickens, Jersey cows, bottle raising up to 30 orphan calves a season, growing huge gardens, making soap, putting the rest of the world on hold.

break in!

Identity crisis?

The polar bears counting calves

 It was truly an idyllic life, but like all things, it must come to an end and the seasons are changing. God is calling me to something new. I will treasure this time and these memories as I step into the next chapter.

Wild Wild Weekend

We had esteemed visitors last weekend. My brother, who has never been here before came up to see us. He is the only one of my childhood family that will ever be here, so it was pretty exciting. We’ve had many losses over the past couple of years and I don’t see either of my citybred sisters wanting to experience ranch life. He brought his nifty little Ranger ATV that carries 4 people easily so it was pretty fun because I got to go everywhere with him. My niece and nephew came up the day after his arrival so it was exponentially more fun. Usually I pretty much stay at the house while everyone does there thing and get to enjoy their company at meal times. Feeding them good, at least, is something I can do most of the time. We still managed to eat pretty well, even though I was gone most of the day.  The night he got here we had some lambchops, brown rice and Arkansas green beans, along with a salad and homemade bleu cheese dressing. It was a good start.

The first morning I got up early for me, as I knew he is a very early riser, waking about 4:30 each day. The cowboys were sorting and shipping cattle on the other side of our rock wall in the big corral and I thought he might like to watch. I ran over to the cabin he stayed in and knocked, but no answer. I tried the door and was surprised to find it locked...not so much that I found it odd he would lock a front door, as living in the city, it would be a natural habit, but surprised that one of the buildings on the ranch HAD a locking door! I took some pics of the cowboys working for him. 

Eventually he staggered out of bed 5 hours later than usual surprised he could sleep so long. I think the lack of sounds had something to do with it. Just another one of the perks living so far from civilization...plus he was situated in probably the ONLY place on the ranch one doesn’t hear my rooster.

We ran up the mountain to the weir, which is always an amazing view. After bouncing off of the rocks on the way up and the way back we went to see the pivots going in across the ranch. It took most of the day with TheMan driving and answering all the technical Y-chromosome questions while I sat in the back seat enjoying the scenery. We drove out to the processing corrals and passed a pair of pheasants, which are always beautiful to see.

We brought the sheeple in, locked up the calves so I could milk EmmaLouMoo in the morning, gathered eggs, picked some strawberries and raspberries and BBq’d steak for dinner. My niece and nephew arrived that evening.

The next day, the kids wanted to ride their dirt bikes so we went North of the ranch headquarters back into the canyon. Just after we passed a natural hotspring we looked back to see a cloud of dust moving along the edge of the mountain. We stopped and as the breeze changed and the dust reorganized we saw a herd of wild mustangs that passed us up. They stopped after awhile and we pulled ahead of them so we wouldn’t be pushing them as it is a drought year and we were afraid they might be searching for water and it was a very warm day. They began running again, catching up to us once more. We stopped again and they continued on, crossing the dirt road right behind us, then pulling up ahead to charge into the valley for which we’d been heading. We could hear their hoofbeats and almost feel the thundering in the ground, even though it was a small herd of only 13 horses. We decided to turn around so as not to excite them, but not before we got a few pictures. I think it was probably the highlight of the trip as it’s not something you see everyday.

The last day we went out on the dry lakebed. There is no way to describe how vast it is in size, except to say they set the women's land speed record there in the 60's in excess of 500 mph. The views are astonishing and camera shots cannot do them justice. All in all, I think it was a pretty good first trip.

We made Boule Bread and 4 loaves of Sourdough so the kids know how that is done. I had the bathrooms stocked with Ranch Rustics Soaps and Whipped Tallow which came in handy after being out in the dust and dirt all day.  They all purchased a dozen or so soaps to take with them. 

I fattened them up with Sourdough/Buttermilk Waffles made with homemilled wheat flour and some BIG dinners, and the "Coup de Grace" was  Beef Kebabs followed by Bananas Flambé on homemade crepes with homemade vanilla ice cream on top. Ahhhhh….Sorry, we were in too big of a hurry to eat them to take any pictures for you.

 I suspect they will all be back. I'll be looking forward to it.

Angst and the Guardian Angel

It was a fine day, so we saddled up and decided to go for a long ride. Heading across several large pastures (large being of a size in keeping with a 250,000 acre ranch) we picked our way through miles of grassland, past rock jacks, around sloughs, through willows and across fields then weaved our way back to one of my favorite places, an old willow corral. It has decayed to the point of being pretty much unusable now, but was one of the prettiest places on the ranch, in my opinion, with the willow reed fencing and the wild roses growing on it. My camera went dead which was pretty disappointing because I want to get some good pictures of what little is left of it, before it's too late. We rode on by and headed for the far side of the valley, determined to make a long, long ride today.We were several hours out and I happened to glance behind me and with mixed feelings I turned my horse around. 

Bruno, my self appointed body guard/Livestock Guardian/nursemaid/Maremma/100+ lb Guardian Angel, who is certain that I am not capable or safe anywhere on the ranch without his presence, was galloping towards us. He had apparently managed to scale the fence of the only 'dog-proof' pasture we have, in which I had contained him and he tracked us several miles across the ranch. He is built for speed and power, not for distance and his heavy coat made it even more challenging for him to and catch us in the warmth of a sunny fall day. He was obviously greatly relieved to have found me, clearly proud of himself and so strongly convinced in his own mind that he was doing a most excellent job, I couldn't reprimand him. He had a look on his face of absolute joy and accomplishment and looked at me as if to say “I am SO glad I finally found you! It’s not safe out here, there are ________ “(coyotes, cougars, field mice)" fill in the blank.

 We turned and headed back home, Bruno happily riding drag and occasionally trotting alongside, ever watchful for predators.  He had overheated himself and I chuckled because he hates water but continued to immerse himself in every irrigation ditch we passed.

The thing about dogs...they can be trusted. They are never judgmental, or malicious. They are faithful, sincere, devoted. Honest. Loving. Dependable. Exasperating.

The fall calves have been weaned. These are smaller, younger calves and have a more difficult time adjusting. Most are currently 3 miles away below the processing corrals. Coyotes have been bad this year and killed a few so there are currently 3 trappers on the ranch trying to eliminate some before the cows start calving again. That puts my Maremmas at risk of being caught in a trap. I’ve had to lock Potamus in a small pen with sheep at night, and keep Bruno in the house. Potamus is the flock guardian and pretty much stays in the pen with the sheep. Bruno is a perimeter guardian and spends each night out patrolling and deterring or confronting predators. It's hard to confine them. They absolutely hate it. I’ve been letting them come in the house to eat because the ranch cats have been stealing their expensive dog food. I wish they would eat the ranch cats, but none the less, since the Maremmas haven’t been free to do their job, the ranch dogs have figured out they have free access to my chickens as well. In great frustration, I have all the chickens and guineas locked in their little henhouse for protection.

This morning in the wee hours, Bruno woke me up because he wanted out. It was all quiet so I figured he was just hot or needed a bathroom break. I opened the door and he quietly slipped through. 

This morning he was gone. He scaled the back fence again and didn’t come when I called. He could have either been guarding and disposing of a coyote kill, or he could have been caught in one of the $@!!*&# traps. I never know until he either shows up, or the trappers check their traps and find him there if he is okay or not.

It’s unbelievable how much damage anxiety can do to your body. He’s often been in the area the traps are set, and a couple of years ago was caught in one of them. I guess until the trappers are all gone, I will just have to deal with the anxiety and watch my hair turn a  lighter shade of gray day by day.

This morning Randyman told me that the cowboss complained Bruno was chasing the calves back from the fence. His sheep are on the other side of the fence so that is why he does what he is doing. Unfortunately, I didn't get to talk to the cowboss myself, but I do know he has disdain for LGD's, as his only real experience with them was a friend who apparently got one and locked it in a barn with a bunch of lambs. It was, of course, a disaster. People seem to overlook the fact that these are still dogs and you can't just throw one out there and leave it and expect great results. It's not like putting an Alka Selter in your water. Anyway, I have moved all the sheep once again so there is no common fence between them and the calves and hope that solves the problem. I don't want any misunderstandings between my dogs and the new cowboss. When it comes to human vs dogs, dogs nearly always lose. Better to play it safe.

Sunk

Two of my 2010 bottle calves were bred early last year, so I could use them as foster cows for the leppie calves that come in. “Rio”, who was delivered by cesarian from a dead cow, was found walking around with a half born dead calf. No telling how long it had been, it got hung up on the pelvis and she was unable to deliver it. Luckily, the vet was here that day and removed the calf and doctored Rio. She looks a little rough, but hopefully, in a few months, she can be bred again. 

The other cow, Cholula, was the first leppie we found out on the desert during 2010 Cow Camp. Both these calves were raised alongside EmmaLou, often nursing her mother, DollyMoo.

I got them both halter broke and fairly gentle so we could use them for nursecows.

Cholula delivered a dead heifer calf day before yesterday. I was devastated.

Rio is still looking a little poorly, after her birthing trauma. I spoke to the boss about her condition and he asked me to worm her. This is simple enough, I just had to draw 50cc of Pour-On into a dosing syringe and squirt it down her back. This SHOULD have been an uncomplicated procedure, don’t you think? But then, put ME into the equation and it might just turn out a bit differently.

I grabbed the syringeful of wormer, talked to the Maremma’s and jumped on the 4 wheeler because Rio and Emma were at the very BOTTOM of the pasture.

We zipped on down there and by the time I made it, they were just on the other side of the biggest irrigation ditch in that particular pasture. With the syringe securely clenched between my teeth, I zoomed down the bank, across the ditch and...

...sunk.

The snow is melting on the Steens now, sending down massive amounts of cold water from the melting snow. It’s threatening to come over the roads and it's filling up all the creeks and irrigation ditches here. Randyman had just cleaned out all the ditches so I figured it was plenty safe to  drive over...except the water brought down LOTS of silt. I was speeding across and just as I was sure I made it up the other bank, the quad stopped instantly. I groaned, and managed to get myself off without getting wet and muddy. 

We went ahead and took care of Rio, then she and Emma and the dogs headed over with me to extricate the quad.

Emma offered to drive if I would push...but she couldn’t get the hang of starting it.

The pups checked things out under the ‘hood’ and couldn’t find anything wrong.

Em and Rio tried pushing with Bruno giving instruction, to no avail. The back tires were just sucked into the mud. It wasn’t going anywhere.

Fully as discouraged as I was, they left...and left me on the other bank with Cletus.

...to walk up THERE.

I followed the ditch down a ways to where it was narrow enough for me to jump across with my little short legs. 

The  Maremmas were kind enough to escort me, although I could hear them snorting and ridiculing me in  doggie language.

It isn't THAT far, but it IS uphill, over SEVERAL ditches and not much fun,when you have RA. I made it to the Octopus tree for a rest.

The trip from there to the corral is a lot more doable.

I checked on a new orphaned calf that I put in with Cholula, or “Lu” to nurse. 










She doesn’t like him much. She thinks he is a little parasite.































He looks to me, more like a caboose, as he chases her around latched onto the refreshment bar. When she is really tired of him, she picks him up on the end of her muzzle and tosses him. She doesn’t run him down to hurt him or anything, so I am not afraid to leave him there. He just has to eventually wear her down until she relents.

Meantime, I supplement him with milk from Emma just to make sure he doesn’t dehydrate. I need him to stay a little hungry and keep workin’ on Lu so she will let down and increase her milk supply.

At the moment, he’s resting up for his next assault.




Meantime, back on the ranch, the water keeps running down from the mountain and the water levels in the ditches keep rising. 


Randyman comes home for lunch and I inform him that "Yeller" is stuck in the ditch. He is worried it will wind up underwater if we leave it long, so we head down that way (on foot again) to get him out. It takes two of us awhile to get it unstuck and out of there, but then, we find ourselves still on the other bank, unable to get it back. I ask how we will get it home and he said "We will just go around."


So, I climb on behind him and we bump and bounce down the fence line to the gate. We follow the lane the horses take up to the ranch and proceed over the first big, wide, water crossing.


SPLASH!!! WHUMP!!!


We sink all FOUR wheels in the silt.


Randyman always wears heavy duty lace up boots. I usually wear tennis shoe style flip-flops. Therefore, I got to be the one to step off and push. The water was up to my knees. I have no idea why I bothered to roll my pants up. He decides it will be best to back up instead of proceed forward. We are low on fuel and it stalls several times before going into reverse.  Did I mention WHERE  this water run off comes from??? Snow. It's from the snow on the mountain. It's cold. Very, very cold.


We finally get it started, I have ahold of the rack on the front and am pushing hard while Randyman guns it. The quad FINALLY gains traction and shoots out of the water, jerking me out of the mud and taking me with it. Letting go would never occur to me during an incident like this one.  I manage to avoid landing flat on my face in the mud, but Randyman laughs anyway.


I climb back on, and we head through the horse pasture, mind you, the pastures here are hundreds of acres, this is no small jaunt. We go putt-putting along, bouncing and jouncing through dips, bumps, bogs and brush. I hear giggling and squeaking, and am somewhat annoyed to realize its ME, making the noise. We go about a mile across the pasture to a spot where we can finally cross the water, then head a mile BACK to pick up the road on the other side of the crossing we couldn't cross before we tried to cross and I became cross.


Randyman dropped me off to make lunch while he filled up the tank. I thought about how much fun that was and pondered where else I might be able to get "Yeller" stuck.


Can't blame a girl for trying, can ya?

A Cold Blast

I got up this morning and climbed into my boots and blue jeans. As I headed out to catch my horse in the cold and drizzly morning, I saw a rainbow that extended from the mountain, to the barn ahead of me. I thought about how truly blessed we are, to live at the end of the rainbow.

I watched their breath rise, as the horses ate their grain, waiting to be saddled. The warm and familiar smells of the barn comforted me, as I pulled my gloves on. We loaded 8 horses in the trailer, and set off for the corner of the ranch, to bring in a pasture full of weanlings to be processed again.

We unloaded and stepped astride, while the boss took the truck and trailer to the corrals, where we would all meet up.

We split up into pairs and spread out across the massive pasture, looking for calves. The grass, and sagebrush was belly deep and more in some places. I spotted a couple of calves to the west of me, and Wimpy and I headed that way to bump them down to the main herd. I spotted a large group of about 60 or so in the sage brush, so we trotted across a couple of irrigation ditches and up above and beyond them to push them down. After awhile, another rider met up with me, and eventually all the calves were together in one group. I looked up and saw it storming on the snow-covered peaks above us, as a cold brisk wind bit at my ears. Pulling my silk scarf up around my face, we fell into an easy gait beside the herd. Coaxing, and pushing and bumping and guiding, we finally brought about 850 head into the corrals.

One calf was badly bloated, his stomach distended on both sides until he looked like a balloon in the cartoon, Shrek. We left him behind and two of the cowboys went back with the horse trailer and picked him up. A sharp knife was plunged behind his ribs to relieve the build up of gas, and you could see his visible relief. A drastic measure, to be sure, as there is always a danger of infection, but without the treatment, death is certain, as the heart and lungs are increasingly compressed. The body is truly an amazing thing, and it is certain that we are fearfully and wonderfully made. The fact that living creatures can recover from such drastic insult to their body, is nothing short of miraculous to me, and it happens every day.

The morning went quickly, as we ran calves thru the chute, separating those who might be getting sick, or weak, to bring back and place in the pasture behind our house, where they can be kept under closer supervision.

Two cowboys ran the hydraulic headgate, giving vaccines, and antibiotics when needed, two more worked the chute pushing calves forward and another worked the alley and brought ten at a time to push through the chutes. I worked the corral, bringing 40-50 head at a time to keep the alley full. During the slow moments, I drank in the beauty around me. The valley we live in is large, and is surrounded by mountains. To the west is the 10,000 ft fault block, whose peaks are covered with snow year round. To the south, looms a range only slightly smaller, and to the east are the windswept and barren hills that connect to the Sheephead Range. The cloud formations here are unique, as are our weather patterns. Unlike the rest of Oregon, we get little annual rainfall. Most of our water comes from the snow runoff on the mountains above, and springs below. The water here never leaves the valley.

Heavy dark clouds covered most of the sky and bright shafts of light broke through here and there like windows to heaven. When the sun hit us, we could immediately feel its warmth, but the moments were brief and we relied on our heavy gloves and jackets to keep us warm. Tipping our heads to allow the brims of our hats to keep the worst of the bitter wind off of our faces, the crew kept up the rhythm of the work, with professionalism, competency, and the easy going camaraderie that are characteristic of the American Cowboy.

What a privilege to live among them.

An Off Day

We are processing cattle at the ranch again this weekend. I got up at the crack of dawn and got ready, but my pain level was high enough I really didn’t want to ride. The boss said they are not short handed today because the kids all made it home, so here I am.

I left the gap under the gate open last night so the pups could patrol. They spent a good deal of the day patrolling and exploring somewhere on the 250,000 acres, but were back in the corral early, so I decided to trust them to their own instincts. I have heard almost no coyotes this year near our pasture, and haven’t seen a single one, which is a pretty significant thing.  They seem to be doing their job.

When I stepped out on the back porch, I could see them far off, socializing with the calves. I whistled and dropped to my knee with my arms out, which is their specific invitation to come to me. Either they don’t see well, or they are not sure what their responses should be yet, because if I don’t do this, they stand and stare at me stupidly. As soon as I go down to my knee, they come running full steam, ducking under gates and through fences to throw themselves at my feet, paws up, in the most enthusiastic display of submission ever witnessed.

They then proceeded to escort me out to feed the two bottle calves and let the sheep and goats out, with Cider, (my Golden Retriever) busily seeking the perfect cowpie or other item for me to throw. They are very tolerant of Cider, and he is the ONLY other dog allowed in the pastures where they guard. Cider is constantly at my side, so the pups know he is okay, and they submit to his authority still, as an adult dog. I am afraid this may not ALWAYS be the case, so he is not allowed to eat near them or behave in any way that they might feel invades their territorial rights.

As the goats and sheep filed out the gate, the pups happily went with them and disappeared into the tall grass of the large pasture. Cider and I went the other direction and strolled a ways, checking on the condition of various calves as we went. Cider went blasting past me, gleefully wagging his entire body, as he bounded back and forth with a large stick in his mouth. He was making fierce and terrible growling noises that I never heard him make before, all the while, clearly beside himself with joy. It wasn’t too long before the growling made sense. It was not a stick, he had discovered, but one of the puppie’s treasures…an old deer leg they had dragged home from somewhere on the ranch. Cider clearly envisioned himself as a mighty hunter, and was so excited, he couldn’t stop long enough to hand it off for me to throw for him. His fierce growling continued, when suddenly I heard a crashing through the brush. Without warning and with breathtaking speed, the Maremmas charged in, from out of nowhere, to confront the danger. Equally as stunned as myself, Cider spit the deer leg out at my feet and stared wide eyed at the pups. They visibly relaxed when they saw the situation, and I took the deer leg myself and packed it home, to prevent any bickering about ownership. 

It seems me and the critters are in pretty capable hands. They escorted us back to the main gate, then continued their patrol. Last I saw, they were moving from group to group touching noses with the calves, who now respond with nonchalance to their protective presence.

Maybe tomorrow, I too, can go to work.

Whats next?

 

It got down to well below freezing last nite. The garden is now a thing of the past, which bothers the pups more than me, since they had more fun running through it, than I did watering and weeding it.

All the pasture animals need to be supplemented now, as most of the nutrition has leached out of the grass. The calves will be fed a mixture in huge tractor tires out on the range and the mother cows will be pushed back out to the desert to graze on white sage, until February Cow camp, when we bring them back. I shouldn’t say ‘we’…I mean…”they”, as last year I found it a tad chilly, staying in a trailer that was only 20 degrees F inside.

The outhouse with no door is not a big attraction for me either, in any weather.

The fruit drop, (apples, pears, apricots) is about gone, much to the dismay of Dolly & Emma, the milk cows. They were having a pretty good time waiting under the trees for the stuff to fall. The deer and coyotes didn’t get any this year, because those two worked like vacuum cleaners sucking them up as fast as they came down.

The goats, sheep and the two littlest orphan calves have been pretty good about coming in by themselves at night, from the big pasture where 150 of the 4000 weaned calves are, to get fed behind the chicken coop, where they like to sleep. The Maremma pups tuck them all in at night. I couldn’t find the sheep one evening, so I headed for the pasture gate, and Cletus started barking at me. He is usually really good about coming with me, but this time, he wouldn’t. He kept barking then turned and got himself thru a fence into another corral. Guess who was there? He brought the sheep back in while I wondered how he knew I was about to go looking for them. Awesome dogs.

 He seems to really like his job. Everyday, when I let the sheep and goats back out, Cletus does a head count, then goes thru the pasture counting calves, and each one has to get a ‘nose touch’ whether they want it or not. He’s kinda bossy that way.

Things are winding down. Soon it will be bird hunting season, and Thanksgiving and Christmas, and snow and wind and ice and soup weather. It’ll be a good time for baking breads again, and canning chicken stock…seems like my life is all about food. That’s why I like making the soap…its something I can do in the kitchen that DOESN’T make me FAT.

There have been a lot of improvements on the ranch this year, one of which was putting kitchenettes on the cabins, so the cowboys can cook for themselves. This means I won’t be feeding crew this year. I’ll have to find something else to do with my free time.

 Come January, the goats should ‘freshen’ (have their babies) and we will have dairy products again, although I will miss the heavy cream we get from the Jersey cows. It was nice being able to make our own butter, ice cream, sour cream, mozzarella and other cool and tasty stuff. That will have to wait to resume until next July or so, when they calve, but I should be able to do a few things with the goats milk.

Cider and I went out and did a fence check with the pups.. Of course, this meant me getting mobbed, as the sheep and goats come hurtling after me as soon as they notice I am out there. I try to sneak down the fence line, but my little ‘thundering herd’ spies me and comes a-running. I cringe everytime, expecting one of the sheep to smack into me from behind, which has happened in the past and sent me sprawling. They are very enthusiastic that way. It must be my ‘animal magnetism’…or maybe its because I have the lingering smell of the apple scented soap I made today. I prefer to think it is because they just like me.