Two Days In Pics

Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum

 The pups slept in this morning. They were on duty last nite.

Super Duper Vaccum Saver

 I love this machine. It keeps our food fresh forever and a day!

Making a cover

The stockings were hung...

Ta  dah!!

A Peeping Dolly, the storm is coming....

Checking heifers

Ranch as far as the eye can see

Old Stage Stop in Background of bull pasture

That was a stage stop for the two week trip from Winnemucca to the ranch. I imagine it took another week and a half to make it to Burns. Its all stacked stone, unfortunately, a range fire burned off most of the roof.

Wrangler Butts....

 We got a flat tire on the gravel road, so Randyman is gonna blow it up with the portable air compressor.

Tire still flat and ranch headquarters is still out of sight

 We only have about 7 miles left to go, to get home and we have filled the tire up twice!

making myself look TALL

 I hate to be unproductive while he is working, as you can see.

In view of ranch headquarters

 

Day 2-Puppy Attack!!

It snowed.

nurse calves

where is my snowball????

We Will Remember Ewe

It was a beautiful morning this morning. Several inches of fresh snow blanketed the ranch and the valley floor. The mountain was invisible as the big white cloud completely obscured the view and snow was falling silently. The pups loved it. I felt pretty good, as we had gotten a shelter up for the sheep, the Jersey’s and the leppie calves. The goats were in the barn because they are very pregnant and they are sissys.

I made bottles and headed out to feed the calves, and throw hay to the sheep, while Randyman fed the cows for me. I never noticed who came to eat. The dogs came with me to feed the goats at the barn, and the horses down in the milk pasture.

Upon arriving back, I checked to make sure the animal shelters were dry inside and that was when I saw Ewe-ness.

She was clearly dead and lying on her side inside the shelter. Free Wooly was lying next to her, and Pet-ewe-nea was outside the shelter. The pups came in and when they saw her, they immediately began to lick her face. Surprisingly to me, we were all pretty upset. Ewe-ness was my personal favorite, as she was very friendly and used to follow me all over the pasture. Ranching and farming doesn’t give us immunity to the awful sadness that comes when an animal dies.

Not having a lot of experience with sheep, I could only assume she had bloated. There were no marks on her but she was clearly bloated in death, whether or not that was the cause of her passing. I attempted to move her, but was only able to drag her out of the shelter. Free Wooly stayed with her, as did the pups, who kept licking her face. Cider went to see what was happening and Bruno bared his teeth at him. I was very surprised at that, because the pups are normally submissive to Cider. I had to put collars on the pups and drag them out of the pen. Bruno attempted to run back to Ewe-ness through the back gate and I had to head him off and close that as well.

No one is on the ranch with me today that can help. Randyman is hours away checking the wells on the desert and the cowboys are out rescuing a cow/calf pair, so its just me and the dogs.

I never much cared for sheep, other than in the culinary sense, Ewe-ness and her buddy changed my attitude. They also love to eat weeds that I desperately want eradicated, which is a big plus. They have been very quiet, and easy to manage. Their personalities are winsome and I became pretty attached. 

I was concerned about how the pups might behave around a dead charge. Often LGD’s will eat the carcass of a dead charge to avoid attracting predators.  I didn’t want to encourage this kind behavior so I locked them on the other side of the corral fence. Normally they have full access to their charges, but tend to watch them from the comfort of our back porch. Today, they laid in the snow all day, to keep Ewe-ness in their direct line of vision. They guarded her body for nearly 6 hours, and wouldn’t allow anyone near her but me.

      

Randyman finally got home and we agreed Ewe-ness had to be taken out of the corral. He got his helper to assist loading her on a wagon, while I held the pups outside the corral. They left through another gate, while Cletus whined. After they were gone, I let the pups go and they ran and checked where Ewe-ness had been lying, and the shelter, and finally stared out the gate through which she had been taken. I guess they really are going to be Guardian Dogs. Until today, I had not realized how deep their attachment actually went.

Whatever it is they are thinking, they have been spending more time in the sheep corral tonite, with extra vigilance.

Ranching and farming is a wonderful way of life, but sometimes it can be very sad. Here’s hoping that Pet-ewe-nea will have lambs in the spring.

We will remember Ewe…ness.

Its a Dog's Life

 

Cider is a Golden Retriever, with the heavy emphasis on ‘retriever’.  Being a retriever does not necessarily make one a bird dog, anymore than being old makes one wise. He really only wants to bring things BACK to you, so if you were to, say, throw a bird, that is all right with him.

My son and a good friend went in together and bought Cider for me as a Christmas gift several years ago. This was a response to my suffering ‘empty nest’, so of course, I ruined a perfectly good dog. People do desperate things when they miss their kids. Some women, especially, don’t deal well with it and get little dogs to put little sweaters and things on. Not me. Cider learned table manners. We also got a crew cab pickup, so he didn’t have to sit between us on the seat and as we don't have a swimming pool, we had to buy him one of his own.
Please don’t get the idea that Cider is spoiled. He has chores to do. He has a toy box for his toys and he is responsible for picking them up and putting them away himself. He does get cheese for it, but he still has to do the work. He also does dishes, babysits on occasion, and makes a very good doorbell.

Top Notch BabySitter

having to wait for his order. Poor service

under Duck attack

He knows his place. The problem is, that it is between me and Randyman. Our comforter is of a size that it barely fits over our bed. Late at night when Cider decides it is time to jump in bed, he manages to land in the middle and suck the blankets off of us both. We are looking for a wider comforter.

These fat quail were all over the yard this week.  They know they will not be bothered. I once threw Cider’s ball into a pile of brush. Birds flushed everywhere, and he never lifted his head until he found that ball . They don’t even run for cover when he is around, anymore. I think he has a little Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

Why, What IS that spot down there?

Its CIDER, waiting for someone to throw his kong ball

This is the face of OCD

Ever since he was a little puppy, he has brought me a myriad of things to throw. He has brought me toys, paper clips, thumbtacks, money, pieces of dried leaves…anything he can put in his mouth, or make stick to his tongue. Often times what he brings is so small, that only he can see it. He sets them on my leg and if it is big enough for me to hold, I am to throw it, and if it’s too small, I am to flick it. He has me fairly well trained. He is pretty intense, and single minded.

Yesterday, he brought me a dried, red jalapeno. It was very hot. He spit it out on my lap, and kept spitting, and spitting and spitting. I think he might have sprained his tongue. It did not deter him, however, from begging me to flick it across the room for him.

I would just die if someone took a close up like this of my face.

Sometimes dogs just act like they got no sense.









 

A December Shopping Trip

 

It was time to replenish supplies and because the only other person able to care for our animals in our absence was leaving for a month to visit family and we wanted to avoid the Christmas rush, we headed out on the 4 ½ hr trip to town.

Randyman hooked up the trailer the night before, and loaded up all the large coolers out of the ranch walk-in. Everything has to go into coolers to either stay frozen on the long trip home or just to keep the dust out of it, as driving the 50 miles of dirt road coming into the ranch tends to push dirt into everything.

We awoke hours before dawn, threw on some clothes, tossed some essentials into a small bag for emergency and headed to the barn to load a horse. We were to deliver her on the way. She was a mare, and mares aren’t too popular here on the ranch. All the horses need to be working stock and more often than not, mares tend to be moody, kicky and also cause the geldings to fight over her. My little mare is no exception. She was often marked by teeth and hooves across her body as dominant geldings attempted to haze her into their small clan to keep the others away from her.

 It had been snowing and freezing and the dirt road going out was firm and fairly smooth, from the snow but the paved county road was slick and icy.

About an hour and a half into the drive, the sun began to rise, with black, blue and scarlet hues appearing over the small mountains in the distance. Ice crystals covered the brush on the side of the road and the ground sparkled like it was littered with diamonds. Further ahead, low clouds and fog shrouded the desert valleys like an ocean and we could see another set of headlights in the distance, showing we were not alone on the 200 mile stretch of road that snaked along toward our destination.

With a healthy case of nerves, I began to ramble about this or that, hoping to keep us both well awake and to cover my uneasiness with the less-than-ideal conditions and limited vision.

Climbing over a pass, we were jolted by movement, as the horsetrailer began to whip and slide across the ice, yanking the back of the pickup from side to side, while Randyman worked hard to keep us on the road and avoid sailing over the edge into the canyon below. That plummeted me into silence for the next 20 miles or so, as I struggled to regain my composure and fight the tears that followed the ensuing panic. All the hospital stays from my wrecks in recent years kept going through my mind. It was the first time I have ever been HAPPY to arrive in a CITY.

We dropped off the mare and headed to the Livestock Supply. A good deal of our paycheck was laid out for feed and minerals for our personal cows, goats, and sheep. 10 large bags of dogfood were acquired for the Maremmas, Cider and Scottie. Steer panels and tarps were purchased for building a temporary shelter for Dolly and EmmaLou cow. Late that afternoon we finally stopped to eat and made the decision that we would stay in town overnight to avoid an accident going down the icy hills heading to home.

The following morning, we headed to Costco to complete our grocery shopping and head home, hoping for an early start. The boss called needing some errands run, so we got those done and we were clearly going to finish our shopping quite a bit later than we had hoped. We opted to shop the Costco in Boise so we could zip straight home from there.

We don’t have phone service on the ranch, other than a satellite phone, which only works when the spirit moves it. Cell phones will pick up reception occasionally, depending on how far away from the mountain we are. There is a large peak that blocks the signal from us, so the closest place to use the phone is over a mile from the house. Paying $50 a month for a phone we can’t use unless we were in town together seemed pretty foolish to me, so I cancelled the service. We decided getting a ‘track’ or prepaid phone was a better idea, in case Randy got stuck in the desert, running wells. The guy at the kiosk in Costco asked for my license and said he would have a phone ready in 15 minutes.

We did the remainder of our shopping, pushed the carts out to the horse trailer, packed all our goods into the large coolers and headed home. It takes close to an hour to get from Boise to Nampa, and holiday traffic didn’t help matters. We passed the Nampa Costco and realized, my license and phone were still in Boise. That turned us around and added another 2 hours to our trip…which was already behind schedule.

The weather had been warm, ice and snow had melted, so the trip home was uneventful, except for the last 36 miles. I stared off into the expanse of desert searching for the wild horses that are often seen near, and sometimes ON, the road. Highway speeds of 55 to 70 are nice, as there is almost never another vehicle, but it can be deadly when meeting up with livestock or wildlife. Deer, antelope, wild horses, cattle and other critters often amble across the highway, and can wreak havoc on unprepared or unwitting drivers. Dark clouds hovered over us but didn’t unleash their burdens until we were off of the pavement.

Sunset

Turning off the highway and onto the dirt road leading home, it began to rain and the road was so soupy and slimey, it was nearly sucking us off the road and into a bar ditch and even with 4WD, we had a hard time negotiating any sort of rise in the road.. We made it home nearly 2 hours after dark, 2 days after we started out.

THAT my friends, is why we only grocery shop 4 times a year.

Christmas Past

 

 

The snow has turned to mud. Dolly managed to get her blanket twisted and stuck a leg through it, wadding it all up on top of her and making it hard for her to walk or lift her head. Trotting out there, I unbuckled the back straps and the belly-band, and as I picked up her foot, she yanked it away and got the material wedged between the cloves of her foot. It must have been very uncomfortable because she got scared and took off, head down, unable to see, and my hand caught in the blanket. I managed to pull the thing over her head and eventually get it untangled from her foot, but my hand was injured in the process. Nothing too serious, but its very swollen and painful. Dolly is looking much better than she has in several months, so she will have to take her chances in the buff. It was good to see she is gaining some weight finally after all my efforts and having to dry her off. We own 2 Jersey cows, and 2 Nubian goats, and had to BUY milk! The goats will freshen in a few weeks, and at least I won’t have THAT situation again.

Its 2 a.m. and a couple of owls decided to have a gab fest in the back yard. They were loud enough to wake us up, and the Maremma’s took exception to their midnight chatting as well. That set off a cow that the cowboys had left in the corral next to us, so there is a regular orchestra going on out there. Hooting, barking, mooing…I am waiting for the sheep to bang some cymbals.

The good news is, I notice my wrist is much better than it has been for the past two days. Maybe I can get some Christmas cookies made, as there is little time left to mail things for us…the mail only comes her 3x a week. Its hard to believe its almost Christmas…which reminds me of Christmases past.

A couple of my favorite memories…

My oldest son’s birthday is Dec 9. He was walking and talking early and we spent his first Christmas at Granmas.

We made gingerbread men to hang on the tree, and she also had glass ornaments. She was big on flocked trees, which I didn’t feel was a good choice, what with a toddlers exploring hands everywhere, so we taught Matthew to keep his hands behind his back when he went to admire the tree.

This had always been a successful method of keeping him from grabbing and knocking things over at the store, or people’s homes. He was a really good baby and always wanting to please. In fact, he was always a really great kid.

I woke up that night to a sound I couldn’t identify. I tiptoed out of the bedroom to see Matt on his knees, hands behind his back, in front of the tree, looking up. It was such a precious shot, I went to grab the camera. As I was about to snap the shot, Matt heard me, and ran from the room. Puzzled by his reaction, I turned back to the tree, and noticed several gingerbread men swinging…with no feet.

He never touched them with his hands! How is THAT for a loophole?

Another Christmas I remember fondly was when our second son was about 9. He wanted a bike so badly, but finances were tough. Parents manage to do what they can do, when they love their kids.

He opened his first gift…a book.

“Oh boy, thanks”

(He didn’t like reading much)

He opened his second gift…a puzzle.

(Gee, thanks guys.)

He didn’t much like puzzles either.

More puzzles and books. He had that look of disappointment, although he was polite, and thankful, and acknowledged everything.

We asked him if he would mind going down to feed the horses while I started breakfast.

“Sure”

We snuck outside to watch, as he opened the feed-room door and saw a brand new 10-speed bike sitting inside.

With a whoop and a holler, he jumped astride and took off.

We fed the horses.

Puppy Chronicles

  

A couple years ago, I became the happy owner of a Jersey milk-cow. I reasoned I needed goats, to fill in for the 30 to 60 day dry periods she would have prior to calvings so we picked up two Nubians. The problem was the goats had to be under constant supervision, due to predator pressure. A cougar attacked a cowdog in front of our house. I was NOT willing to lose sleep worrying about them night and day. I decided the best thing to do was to find a Livestock Guardian.

 There were some 3 month old Maremma pups in Culver Oregon.  The pups had been in the barn around sheep since birth, with their dam.

   The breeder recommended we take both remaining pups. One dog alone is no match for a cougar.  They need to back each other up. I agreed with this logic and we made a deal.

They were little enough to put in a crate together on the back seat of the truck and they snarled at Scottie, the Border Collie and Cider, my Golden, all the way home. Randyman named the pups Bruno and Cletus.

A wary Cletus

Bruno, guarding his sheep

Note the 'Polar Bear Walk" These little pipsqueaks walk like they think they are John Wayne.

 

We put them in a stall next to the goats, who were terrified of dogs. By the next morning, the pups had won them over and the goats were sticking their heads into the puppies’ stall for a closer look. They spent the summer living in a pen together, in one of the fields behind the house. As cows, or horses came by for a look, the pups would warn them off with fierce barking and growling and a nip if necessary. As I haltered the animals one by one and brought them over, the pups accepted that they were ours and as long as they didn’t molest the goats, they were ok.  From the beginning, the pups have been very serious about their work, even though they play and rough house with one another constantly.

We picked up some sheep for them and Bruno took to them immediately. Cletus had just been neutered and was in the barn, but managed to escape to be with his goats, so we left him out. The sheep butted and bumped him so I put them in another pen. I looked outside to see Bruno, asleep on his back, cuddled up with the new sheep.

Naps over, time for a goat check

The little band hung together tightly in the 20 acre pasture behind our corrals, and came in every night to be fed and locked up. The pups would go through fences and explore and in spite of all our efforts to ‘dog proof’ them, they always managed to go where they wanted, but always came back shortly either to lounge on the front lawn, or return to the animals.

I don’t mind terribly much, as I wanted them socialized with the dogs on the ranch, and the different people who come. It’s important, as we are just ranch hands, that they don’t cause any problems for anyone here.

One afternoon, two of the boys approached the corral fence with their dogs. Cletus began barking furiously, and stood with his front paws on the back of a sheep so he could see and be seen, over the gate. I was thrilled to see that the same dogs he played with in the front of our house, were NOT going to be welcome in the pasture. I was also amused to see the ewe never looked up from her grazing, with the pup standing on her. That is confidence!

It is amazing to watch the different way they approach new animals. If they assume it is ours, they adopt a very submissive posture. If not, they get pretty aggressive.

The boss loaned us a bull to breed my Jersey cows. We named him “Free Willy” for obvious reasons. Cletus decided that since Willy seemed to have our permission to stay, it was up to Cletus to roll out the Welcome Wagon. My heart fell when he approached the bull and rolled over onto his back. With fear of my dog being crushed, I looked on anxiously as the bull gave him a push, rolled him, then ignored him. Shortly after, Cletus touched noses with him, walked underneath him and the bull paid him no mind. It has to be the Maremma version of Extreme Sports.

Cider, the pups and I did perimeter checks in the pasture everyday before Willy came, and I think they could tell he made me nervous. I went to get my cow one day and she was on the far side of the pasture. I was a little unnerved, and as I snuck out to get her, Cletus came rushing up behind me. He walked so closely he was actually pressing against my leg, as I caught her and led her back to the corral. Once we arrived and the gate was closed, he went back to join the other animals. I have goats and bottle calves in the big barn now, and Cletus always escorts me to and from the barn, checking them over thoroughly before we head back.

Apparently the ranch "dump" and "boneyard" is on their patrol route. We have the greatest collection of leg bones, hooves, rib cages and skulls in the county, in our own back yard. Even though they have 250,000 acres here to access, they never wander very far from the house or the stock, as they usually return within minutes after I call for them if they have been absent, which I appreciate, as I need them to be 'on the job'.

These dogs are also 'order freaks'. If I am not out the door by 7:30 a.m. to feed, they stand on the back porch chair and stare at me through the bedroom window until I get up. Its very un-nerving.

 

wake up call from Cletus

Cletus' very well practiced "aren't there ANY cookies left?" face

Bruno concentrating on his work ethic

Cletus posing as a sheep

Swim party

Doing the job

 

Bruno is an escape artist and can climb over most any fence. It is funny to watch him nearly scale the gate and Cletus grab him by the back end and jerk him down again. It always starts a scuffle. Eventually, he still gets over. If I have gone to the boss’ house, Bruno will come looking. He tracks me up there somehow and stands and peers through the window. If he sees me, he goes back home again, content to know where I am.

Winter has come, and all the animals have to be fed because of the snow. Bruno was sitting in the middle of our backyard, just barking. He kept facing the South pasture. I walked outside, and he came to me, then went back to his spot and barked. As I walked over to him, he led me to the gate, then out to the pasture, where my mare had locked herself out away from water and was waiting to be let back in. I opened her gate, and Bruno went back to the yard on his own. I found it pretty amazing that he would alert me to her need as normally, she isn't under his 'jurisdiction'. They are simply incredible dogs.

A few weeks ago, the cowboys put 350 calves in the back pasture for observation. The pups were thrilled. They assumed that these were all ‘their’ calves. Daily, they would patrol around them and Cletus would do his customary ‘nose touch’. This seems to be a big deal to him. He does this more than Bruno, who generally touches noses with me, but not so much with the stock. After it was determined the calves were strong enough, they were moved to another pasture a mile or so away. The pups of course, were locked up with the sheep and goats for this event. The following morning, they went out to do their rounds, to find the pasture empty.

Later that day, the irrigator told me he saw the pups down in the new pasture, walking thru the calves. Seems they decided they are still under their protection.

Its been fun and interesting, watching this breed of dog grow and adapt by instinct alone. They still have 15 months before reaching ‘maturity’ when they are normally considered trustworthy enough to guard without supervision. Cletus, the larger of the pair, is already over 100 lbs at 9 months old. Although they have always been with the stock, they are only with adults. There has not been a predator at the house since they came. We can hear coyotes farther out, and the ‘neighbors’ 20 miles from us say it’s the worse coyote year they have ever had. There were cougar tracks by the pond, not far from the house, but no one has spotted it. I have to assume the pups are making the difference here. I know I sure feel safer with them around. 

I have been told that LGD’s are 'aloof'. That isn’t really how I would describe them. Both pups are very affectionate, and seem genuinely happy to see us, but they are very dedicated to their job, and unlike Cider, do not require constant attention. They come to receive their praise and petting, and then go on about their business, whether that be wrestling, patrolling, or making acquaintances of whatever and whoever is new to the ranch.

Contented

There have been some nasty low temperatures recently, down to -25 F with windchill, and a bit of snow. With the very cold temperatures on the mountain, our snow is scant, as it falls very finely and doesn’t build up to much most of the time, unlike the warm, wet snows we used to get at our  old home in the Tehachapi Mtn range of California where it wasn’t unusual to get 2 foot of fresh snow overnight.

Most of the snow that was here melted off yesterday, so we slogged thru the mud in our boots, moving calves and heavy, pregnant goats into the barn, relocating sheep, filling waters, and piling bedding in the animal shelters before the next storm.

We very NEARLY got a shelter put up for the weaned orphan calves I am keeping as future nurse cows. I had to find the particular 3 calves I wanted, out of 350 that were being moved from the large sheep pasture behind our house to a larger field a couple of miles away.

The three calves were a boogered up from being pushed into the corral with all the others by the cowboys but luckily, they remembered my bottle-feeding them last winter and I was able to pick them out of the herd after 15 or 20 minutes of searching and they followed me into a ‘safe’ corral. The cowboys offered to put eartags on them, so I could leave them with the other calves and find them easily, but the big and unwieldy tags make them all look like Elton John to me, and I am not a fan. I opted to bring them into one of our corrals and care for them by hand again.

 Of the three, one was our first orphan of last February, “Chewy”; another, the calf delivered C-section by the kids with a pocket knife, from a dead cow, “Rio”; and the third was the first leppie (orphan calf) we brought back from last Cowcamp, “Cholula”.

Cowcamp is a two week long affair camping out in the desert in early spring, to find all the cows who have wintered out there and bring them back to the main ranch. It is only 30 miles to Wildcat Canyon, where Cow Camp takes place but it takes 1 ½ hours to drive there as it is pretty rugged. It takes about a month or so to get all the cows pushed back home again, but the bulk of the gathering is done during the 2 weeks we stay there. Last year was tough, we were still bringing cows home in June.

Cowcamp accommodations are extremely rustic, but everyone looks forward to it. It can be hot, dry, windy, wet, or a blinding white blizzard all the same week…in fact on the same day, so lots of layers, gloves, slickers and hats are recommended. It’s ALWAYS cold at night and in the old drafty shacks we sleep in. There is a wooden outhouse that faces away from camp, as it has no door. A semi-trailer has been fashioned as a cook shack and is hauled out there and hooked to a propane tank and a generator and we pile in there after hours of long, hard riding to warm up by a propane stove and eat whatever can be prepared over a burner. There is an absence of luxury items we often take for granted… like showers… but its cold enough not to notice. On a nice day, one can get a 5-gallon bucket of water and warm it up to wash with.

I made soup and French bread yesterday and invited the ranch hands to dinner. I didn’t realize at the time that the work crew from across the state had returned, so I wound up with 9 mouths to feed. I figured there was enough soup…just barely, and I was short on both ingredients and time to increase the batch, so I threw together 2 more loaves of French bread. This should have been easily done, but the oven I use to rise the bread already had bread baking in it, so I carried the bowl of half risen bread into the other room by the new heat stove. It slipped from my hands and with a jarring halt, hit the floor, right-side-up. The dough however, was now flat as a pancake. I turned a small heating fan on it and it eventually re-rose to ¾ of its intended height and I baked it. It came out well, exactly as the 9 walked in the front door. There was 4 ounces of soup left over after everyone had eaten their second helpings and headed home.

Waking up this morning, I looked out the window onto a pristine white snowfall. This little old rock house is cozy when the wind doesn’t blow, and it’s much like living inside one of those little snowglobes. Snow is falling in large, heavy flakes and building on the walls and fences outside. Dolly’s fancy outfit has a 2” covering of white across the top of her back as she and Emma contentedly work the molasses lick. They are predicting 6 inches today.

The pups are off ‘who-knows-where’, likely having a good time. They brought home an enormous leg bone last night. We don’t mind, as they are always from “dead stock” and coyote kills. It helps deter the predators as the pups make their presence known and steal the bounty. We have the biggest bone yard in Harney County, I believe. My pups are diligent workers.

I filled calf bottles and headed to the big barn to feed the two baby calves that are in there, along with the goats. It’s time to start working with the goats on getting into the milking stanchion and allowing me to handle them. Placing grain in a little bucket and letting them out one at a time, they happily pop up onto the platform and I close the head-catch. I slowly rub my hand down their hind legs and around their udder, which they are very ticklish about, kicking and squatting and doing all manner of gymnastics to escape my hand, but the love of sweet feed wins out and they continue eating while arguing with me. I love a greedy animal. It makes life so much easier! Eventually they will settle down and ignore me and milking will be much easier this January, when they finally kid. They are both ‘first fresheners’ so I will be keeping a close eye on them in case they have trouble.

I head back to check the sheep. We nearly took the ram back to town, to the lady we borrowed him from, but I noticed some serious romancing going on, so clearly the girls didn’t conceive after the first breeding. It looks like he will be here through New Years. I am looking forward to spring lambs, baby goats, and calves, but for now, with the warmth of the house, the smell of blackberry vanilla soap curing on my racks and the beauty of the winter white world outside, I am content.