Barn Check Report

Broadway

All three subjects are standing up at the feeder. Lakota is eating, Monday and Blitz are chewing their cud.

The importunate phoebe that woke us both up is still sawing away, FEEBEE, FEEBEE, FEEBEE.

Who needs an alarm clock with him around? The little rooster is crowing too, but the bird is much louder.

Yesterday was one of those Murphy's law days. With the rain promised...or should I say threatened...we wanted to get everything up to snuff for the wet days. The boss cleaned pens in the morning, then he and Liz went out to do the afternoon feeding early so he could chop hay to feed in the barn for the rain days.

Her business end

And the beater on the forage wagon gave up the good fight. Five hundred bucks and a lot of driving and wrenching later it was fixed,  too late...it was already raining. So he will have to do it between the showers if there is such a time. 

Not helpful. Even the most upbeat of the young farm folks I'm friends with on Facebook are lamenting the non-fun of milking wet cows. Our cows have yet to settle down to summer calm and are cranky and switchy every single day. And it isn't even fly season yet.

Let's hope the hot air rising out of the center of the Beltway blows this rain out west where they can use it and sends some haying weather east. I checked Craigslist for hay yesterday, just taking the pulse of the market so to speak. Only about three ads, and those were for high-end horse hay.

Or mulch. 

Or used bales that had been seats for somebody's party.

And the scary thing is, I'll bet it all gets bought.

Frieland LF Bama Breeze

Oh, well.