Tag Archives: calf

Like a,…a bull in a china shop?

4 May

Our steer is currently living in our back yard (Roselle kicked him out of his stall in the barn) and he’s now paired with the goats, of whom he’s reluctantly beginning to acknowledge as his current herd. He thinks goats are weird and stinky. He’s right.

We keep them in a rotational grazing pattern to mow our lawn because it’s free food and well, the real reason is that our mower is broken. While necessity may be the mother of invention, lack of a new mower is the mother of cow plops in the yard. We’re going “green” in our lawn care operation and did I mention it’s free cow/goat food? Never mind, it’s a big yard.

However, “Cowie”, our once bull-calf, now steer who we refer to using endearments of female bovine terminology (immediately belying our city roots to county folk) is allowed to roam around while we relocate our goat/steer tractor, (the goats stand tied, they cannot be trusted – they eat fruit trees). We took a lunch break and Cowie decided to check out the kitchen garden “greenhouse”.

YIKES! Nobody panicked except me, a completely normal reaction after being trained in the unexpected/unpredictable flight response of and by equines, I s.l.o.w.l.y walked over to the doorway (well it will be one someday, anyway) and…got no reaction. He didn’t even eat or trample the vast array of lettuces, chicories, chards, Bulls Blood beets (ahem) or radishes. No bull in a china shop here.

We love our Cowie. His name is T-bone. I wish he were a heifer, because then he would get to “stay” and give us milk. Mr. Pink Guitar is adamant that we have to eat him. I want to train him to pull a plow, in which case he would be considered an “ox”. He is 7/8 Simmental, very gentle and easily trained. I will have to work on this topic with Mr. Pink Guitar.

When we told Farmer Joe about our bottle calf, he just shook his head and reminded us of what we already knew; that this calf will be with us for a very long time, until he dies of natural causes – right here at Pinkguitarfarm…

One day we will be “real” farmers, until then, our motto is: fake it ‘til you make it. Or not, we really like our brisket…

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Best friends

26 Jan

These two will teach you that you can make friends with anyone. Burley was recovering from a sprained toe and got some TLC from 4 month old T-bone. When we got T-bone, we were told that he and Burley would be inseparable. This is true.

‘Twas the night before…

24 Dec

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all down the lane,
not a creature was stirring not even our LGD Jane

The calf bucket was hung in his stall with great care
In the hopes that warm milk soon would be there

The piglets were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of sugar beets danced in their heads

And Mama in her muck boots

Photograph taken by Don Nevins

and I in my cap

Had just finished mucking all of the horse cr*p*

When out on the farm, there arose such a clatter
I threw down my manure fork to see what was the matter

Away to the chicken coop, I flew like a flash.
I jumped over chickens and past Brad, feeling whiplash

photograph taken by Don Nevins

With the moon on the back of the two billy goats
It shined like the sun on Neptune’s white coat

When what to my wondering eyes might appear
But a giant pink tractor**, which may have (originally) been a John Deere.

With the little blond driver so lively and whack,
I knew in a moment it must be Saint Jack.

His wheels crashed like thunder through fallow garden beds
I whistled and shouted and grabbed at his treads.

Move Jennifer! Move Sophie, move Burley and Jane!
Run Chickens run turkey, run piglets, I exclaimed

I chased after Jack as he drove out of sight,
Jack giggled and chortled and flashed a smile quite bright

Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight!


* Horse Apples
**Everything in our version of this famous Christmas story is true with only minor embellishments except the reference to the giant pink tractor. We are hoping for a tractor in 2011. Let’s see if that all shakes out, and no, Jack will not be allowed to drive it.

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