If You Can Help

Way back when I first ventured to think that maybe I should write a farm blog, Rosemoon Mecho was the first other blogger to give me a link. At lot of water under that bridge downtown and a lot of posts since that day, but we've kept in touch Internet-style ever since.

A few weeks ago disaster struck Rose's family in the form of serious health problems for her husband, Charles. You can read about it here.

Friends have set up a fund raiser for them and I have placed a link in the sidebar. I am sure any help would be appreciated.

There's a Blue Moon over Northview

And a cardinal chinking in the side yard and a robin on the long lawn with thick, blind fog creeping in from all over.

 It has been crazy busy, as it always is, since the fair ended. Tis the season when you run around all day doing stuff and at the end of the day you wonder what you did.

A nice surprise just at dusk yesterday though. The little red truck rumbled up the driveway. Our boy is laid off again. Hard on his wallet but nice for those of us who like having him around.

I dreamed of weapons last night...prolly because of the varmint proliferation around the place and the moose video from Vermont. I have always looked closely at the woods and swamps when we drive thought the Dacks, watching for my first wild moose. After seeing this I am going to look the other way or something.

And I have to laugh at the response to the study by Stanford University that found no significant differences between organic foods and conventionally raised foods (except price of course...you sure can find a difference there). People instantly reacted with howls that it is still better for you. It is! It is! Science-pah, what's that mean? Can't let a little thing like that change your mind.

It reminds me of the whole eggs-bacon-milk-cheese-beef steak, name your food- will kill you thing. After activists get done destroying the market for wholesome foods, those pesky old scientists come along and debunk all those theories. Too late. Everybody knows better now. And boy, will they tell you so. At least around here organic produce tends to be far lower quality, damaged vegetables, tasteless, or even nasty tasting dairy products. I avoid them.

Athena

Help! Who am I!

Not a cat person here. I like them, but I will never be a crazy cat lady or anything. (Well, crazy maybe....).

However, I do like them, and in the way of families when the young folks move away, all the kitties that they brought home over the years have become my responsibility. I spend my extra coins on cat food and get up early to distribute same.

The very day after the Sunday Stills Cats challenge something murdered poor Sinopa and her idiot son Justin Bieber. They were not big favorites, but still they were threads in the life of the barnyard, the butt of many jokes about white cat syndrome (not that they were white), and just there..... I don't know how to explain how it is with your barn animals. They are not like the cozy creatures that share hearth and home, but more like partners in enterprise. They work for and with you and in return you see to their needs. Part of farm life that goes unsung, but not unnoticed.

Justin wasn't smart enough to come to the house for food, but he got milk and table scraps in the barn, and spent his free time thinking up diabolical ways to trip us or run under a cow's belly with his tail upright so we could get kicked. We still liked his silly self and the boss spent years trying to pet him. He would have none of that.

Whatever got them wrecked them. Both were too wild to catch when they came home to say goodbye. We found Sinopa later; Justin is just gone. The barn floor is bare without them.

Then Athena vanished. Athena is different. She is an independent little spotted brown tabby that belonged to children before she came here. They filled her up with love and she hasn't run out yet. 

She is of the liquid cat genre. You can pick her up in any manner and she will flow into your arms and melt around your neck and purr til the foundation shakes. In the winter Alan tucks her into the hood of his sweatshirt and she rides there all sleepy and proud, peeping out every now and then to see what's up. We have come very, very close to buying a conversion kit and turning her into a house cat.

She is timid over porch food and hides under the car until Simon and Chain Saw are done, but she does come in in the morning to eat. I always give her a little extra.

She didn't show her face for three days. Sorrow reigned. Just a cat. Just a barn cat at that, but there is much fondness beamed in her direction.

You can imagine my joy when she was tucked under the big sink on the porch this morning awaiting her turn at the bowl.

We have got to get to the bottom of this killing thing. We have had coyotes for about twenty years, a fisher for two, foxes forever, ditto owls, although not so much any more. And raccoons. However, savvy cats like these know how to avoid those creatures or they wouldn't have lived as long as they have.

I am leaning toward the fisher, because the last time it came through it took Justin's sister, another cat wise in the way of the wild. 

There was something big and fast right in the house yard when we came home from the fair the other night. I miss the days when everyone hunted and varmints kept their distance.

***If any of you bird stars could identify the little warbler type critter above I would be wildly grateful.

Back to School

How I used to hate the season. All summer long we enjoyed having the kids at home. We all worked hard, but we had good times too. Between fairs we found activities that were educational, but more fun than getting dirty, even though we were broke more often than not.

Actually at some of them we got real dirty too, which is never bad from a kid's point of view. In between museums, (and Upstate NY has a plethora of fine ones,) and fishing, driving around the countryside, (back when gas was affordable), and 4-H dairy club activities, we noodled around in the Schoharie Creek down in the Middleburgh area hunting for rocks full of fossilized brachiopods. 

In that region the creek bed is carved out of rock that is as full of them as a hound is full of fleas.

At first we only picked up small rocks with exposed fossils. You could find a pocketful quite quickly, especially if you were young and full of enthusiasm. If you were built close to the ground and had sharp kid eyes, so much the better. Some days Alan plied the pools with his fishing poles, we ate picnic lunch from in the cooler, and then clambered up and down the banks all day, swatting skeeters and picking up stones.

Then the boss, being a guy and all, started bringing home bigger rocks with more fossils.

Next he slapped on the safety goggles, got out the weaponry...er...tools.... and started splitting them. It was like opening Christmas presents. Inside you might find the equivalent of an ugly sweater from Aunt Sally, just more boring stone. However, sometimes a full brachiopod would tumble out into your hand, or a whole shelf of dozens  would be revealed (more like a package from that favorite grandma who always knew just what you liked).Everybody loves a treasure hunt and my flower beds were full of fossils.

Sometimes at back to school time we took that show on the road and hauled unopened rocks to science science class. It was was a bit like conjuring. Here you see a plain grey rock. Bam, bam, bam, voila! creatures from antiquity, seen for the first time by human eyes. Magic.

It was cool.

Nowadays I still feel melancholy this time of year, despite the fact that everyone is grown and back to school no longer holds the threat of loneliness and endless struggles to maintain our family values in the face of the cultural onslaught that takes place in public schools...(My girls failed a TEST (!!!!) in elementary school because they didn't know the details of Disney's The Little Mermaid, because we didn't let them watch junk TV when they were small. Don't get me started.)

Anyhow, the fair is over, the sky is gloomy, rain is coming (and big time) and the farmer's wife is gloomy too....deadlines looming, short crops, long bills, and no good news on the dairy front, acres of second cutting ready, the baler's broken for the second time in a week, and that rain on the horizon means it's doomed......Sorry about that.....I'll cheer up when the sun comes back.

Is Your Mama a LLama

Diamond got a new fly net from Uncle Alan. I think it makes her look like a llama.

Truck Pull

Entirely by accident I attended my first truck pull yesterday. Becky and I volunteered for our annual four-hour shift in the dairy promotion booth and Alan was my chauffeur. When we were finished he was still at the pull so I joined him to wait for a ride home.

It was surprisingly entertaining. I have been to a couple of tractor pulls and they are vividly exciting, but so absurdly loud as to leave folks with any respect for their hearing running for the hills with their hands clapped over their ears.

Since I hope to continue to be able to hear the birds around me, I refrain from partaking.

However, we watched one class of trucks and a couple of exhibition tractors and it was kind of fun. 

***If you haven't made it to the fair yet, this is the last day. The open draft horse show is on and is always a thriller. There is nothing quite like those gigantic horses thundering around the arena for excitement and fun. Not sure yet if I am going to make it, but go if you can; you'll have fun.

Sunday Stills....Rays of Sunshine

It was a perfect week for this...the sun was cooperative, the fair was in full swing......

For more Sunday Stills.....

Sixty-One

Today my folks will celebrate 61 years of marriage...even though, as my mom often says, "They said we were too young."

But obviously they weren't and have made it work...together...for a very long time. (Plus they raised three great kids...just ask me, I'll tell you.)

Sadly the day is bittersweet because just yesterday Mom lost her beloved older brother, Ed. The dark and the light....the joy and the pain...what life seems to bring us,  twined together like vines......

From Any Window

The lovely and gracious lady who stopped by the farm last week was Lorraine K. Vail from Arizona. She grew up on a farm along the Hudson River here in New York State and her family has been a great influence in the world of purebred dairy cattle.

 I think that she will be an influential writer as well.

The book she gave me during her visit was From Any Window. As it happens, with the construction and the fair, the library is suddenly ten thousand miles away rather than a couple and new fodder for reading is scarce (although Becky works hard to keep me supplied.) I began reading it the very night she left it here. 

I can think a dozen superlatives to describe the story...gripping, intense, beautiful yet painful, full of light and darkness like life truly can be. The story of a farm family covering their small joys, great tragedies, animals, food, all the aspects of country life was appealing and very, very real.

I found myself mourning poor lost Lassiebell, a Jersey heifer that perished in a barn fire, as if I had known her. The people felt like neighbors, friends, even sometimes family, so believable and engaging were they.

Lorraine captured the essence of farming, within the framework of family life, in a manner that should appeal to anyone, even if they are not involved in the industry. This is a book I will read again and one that I think about often as I go about the day. Thanks, Lorraine, for bringing it all the way across America.

You can find From Any Window here.

Merlin

Flew through the back yard right over my head. Unmistakably a falcon, bigger than a kestrel, right color, but fast, fast, fast. Should I count it or wait to see if I see it again?

With the Sunrise

Sometimes sitting on the porch as the sun comes up brings on the obvious....I realized this morning over that all-important first cup of coffee that, although I may be a mother, farmer, bookkeeper, intensely political and all, the heart's ruling passions don't necessarily match job titles. Deep in my heart.....

1) I live and breath birding. I will never be an expert, but I don't hear a chirp from the shrubbery or see a flash of wing without needing to know. I read field guides like novels and listen to iBird whenever I have the time.

2) To see it, hear it, learn it, is to put it into words in my mind. Inside my brain I write all day and night. Not much of it actually gets typed but....

3) I never go anywhere without the camera. The man who gave it to me probably wasn't planning on changing my life, the very way I see every ray of sunshine, every puddle, every cloud, but that is what happened. Before the Cannon PowerShot S3 IS, I took pictures with my tiny digital or the big old film camera, but it wasn't that important to me. Now I LOOK at everything, every minute, all the time, measuring how the things I see might be captured. Once again I will never be an expert, but taking photographs has become a ruling passion. I will never be able to thank him enough.

So that's me, if you wanted to know...

Who knew? Probably everyone but me.

Fonda Fair

Look who's visiting from Northview...Liz's pony Diamond

With Liz at the fair with Diamond and Alan working in the big city, it's just the boss and Becky and me much of the time. No matter, Liz came home, we milked early and headed to the tractor pull yesterday evening. 

The poor fair has been beleaguered by devastating flooding at least twice over the past few years. The folks involved, the 4-H kids, people from all over, worked incredibly hard to put it back together....and I can tell you, although some things are different, it is back to being the great fair it used to be.

What a great time we had....

What's a Fair without Chickies!

Beck and I prodded the boss off to the tractor pull and then took off to see the sights. Everything was bright and clean and looking good as we hustled from barn to barn and building to building, hugging old friends, stopping to chat, checking out every single milking shorthorn on the grounds, choosing which decadent delight we were going to eat, and generally having a ball. We laughed so much people started laughing when we went by even though they didn't know what was so funny.

We came across the president of the fair and I stopped to tell him what a great job I think he is doing with it. That the fair survived at all is a wonder and good new ideas are keeping it moving forward this year in a number of ways. Free admission during the fireman's parade is a great solution to allowing everyone to enjoy it without clogging traffic through the construction site. 

Parking last night was a breeze...which was certainly not always the case, and everywhere we went things were moving smoothly. It was great to see the grandstand packed with folks watching the tractors roar down the track.

Can anybody tell me about these tiny quail?
 I saw these canary-sized  pin balls and was stricken with bird envy.
They would contrast nicely with the peacocks I think

A dear friend won grand champion driving pony with his Dixie. Diamond, Northview's entry, spooked at the judge and flipped herself over backwards in halter class. No harm done and she redeemed herself in the in-hand obstacle class, coming in with a real fast time, but losing on penalties because she knocked down a couple of jumps. Since she is only 3 and has never been to a show before, never seen a cone, never been in an arena, or heard a train from fifty feet away, I was impressed that she did all those crazy things at all, let alone doing them quickly. I am sure next year it will all be old hat for her...

She is such a friendly little girl, she was delighted to see us when we stopped by her stall (about sixteen times.....) and poked her nose over the door nickering happily.

The moon over the entrance to the best part

We crawled home around ten-thirty feeling that hit by a truck, up past your bedtime sensation that comes with that kind of party. Raccoon circles under the eyes are the norm this morning, but it was all worth it.

Our favorite pulling tractor, the Supernatural is back in business

And look what is over its problems and roaring down the track again. The Supernatural belongs to good friends and we follow their efforts in the NYTPA every summer. The guys even have shirts.

If you come to the fair on Sunday, do stop by the dairy promotion booth as Beck and I found ourselves somehow signed up to man...should I say woman...it for a couple of hours late at midday.

Ranger Gilan of Northview

The Realities of Dairy Farming.

Here are a few links on the never-ending saga of low prices for fluid milk at the farm gate  and perhaps a little insight into some of the whys.

First a little bit about the probable impact of the Yogurt Summit recently held in NY. I strongly agree with the writer. Any shortage of milk will self-correct as soon as farmers can make back their cost of production. Offer them a chance at a profit and you won't know what to do with all the milk.

And here is a little behind the scenes stuff that you can interpret any way you want to. Sometimes conspiracy theorists are right after all.

A bit from the Land Down Under where farmers are up against much the same forces as we are in the USA.

A heart-breaking story of too little too late for one farm, that could easily represent many other farms.

And so you have a chance to smile, a short interview with one of my favorite farm writers, Patricia Leimbach.

Somewhere an Inventor

Look at this face! 

We should have known when we got him 

that he was a timber wolf in fluffy brown fur.

Is missing his prototype ecologically sound, "green" garbage can. 

And we have found him. It's been a while since I updated you about Gil, the English Shepherd pup Becky got last March. He was so cute....the little rascal.

Nowadays, he is a big, strapping, forty-pounder, lush with orangy-brown fur with black trim, huge expressive brown eyes, a fox's brush of a curly tail, an attitude that would do a bucking bull proud, and an insatiable appetite for......

Everything. Rocks, leaves,  dirt off people's shoes is a big fave...certain individuals wear those Godawful cleated boots with deep grooves in the tread. No matter what I do they tromp through the house without taking them off....gotta use the john, or pick up a letter or some other urgent objective that precludes taking time for shoe removal.  (Those of us with slip-on rubber barn boots leave them on the porch where they belong.) The cleated clan leave trails of dried up little lozenges of mud (and no doubt all the other good stuff they step in every day) all over the floors. And they must be delicious, yummy, nummy, better than tiramisu with fine wine.

Because Gil loves them. You will be sitting there quietly when, crunch, crunch, crunch, he is chomping on something he found. (Wouldn't be a problem except he has a delicate tummy.) You may have just swept the floor with the big broom that gets every grain of sand...or so you thought...when chomp, slobber,drool, he's at again. At least he chews his food....so you can snatch it from his jaws of death

Talking as he revs up to gnaw ankles

Woe betide the snippet of hay that falls out of a pant cuff. He's on it like a duck on a June bug. Bread bag ties must be extracted most urgently. The rings off milk bottles, heck even the milk bottles if they fall. This morning he was worrying a burdock, slurping happily, soaking it with drool like a full time bloodhound. At least he will usually give up his treasures for a kibble.

And did I mention the moaning? When he gets in the mood for crazy play he first yodels and moans and groans and yips like he's talking. Don't talk back to him though or you're in for it. He will roll on your feet then...and bite them...tenderly...just a little around the edges, pinch, pinch. Maybe a nibble or three on your ankle bone.

 Bigger smile, bigger teeth

I will give him credit for being smart in some ways. Just for the heck of it I taught him to sit when I look at him in a certain tone of voice. It helped that I was eating crackers. He stood beside me, his entire soul reflected in those big brown eyes; you could just tell he would offer up his kingdom for a crumb. I stared until he plopped his butt down, then tossed him a bit. 

A couple of crackers later all I had to do was glance his way and his fanny hit the floor. Isn't it fun to teach other people's doggies useless tricks?

Anyhow, that's what's up with Gil these days....quick Beck, he's got another rock.

....oh, and I forgot. When I got iBird Pro for my phone I discovered that the call of a blue jay drives him crazy and he barks and barks. Not too much of a problem...just don't listen to jays on the phone. Except that now, there are really jays hollering up a storm out in the yard. 

Will somebody please shut that dog up!

Buggy

 These are for Cathy who mentioned an interest in them. This big ol' thumbnail-sized spidey is hanging around on the clothesline, hiding on a clothes pin. He, well, prolly really a she, is absurdly tame, but magnificently ugly. Right click if you really want to get personal.

And this is a box elder bug nymph we saw when fencing the other day. Not much to look at but better than a spider at least.

Anniversary of Irene

This is what happens when you let the boys chalk tail heads

You remember her. She stopped in this time last year and left a legacy of devastation that still haunts much of the Schoharie Valley and even places right down the road. 

And this

We were personally very fortunate, but neighbors lost a lot. However, one of my most compelling memories of the time of trouble was the overwhelming spirit of help and cooperation that infused the center of Upstate NY. It's impossible not to be proud of the people who pulled together for their neighbors and who still, a whole year later, are fundraising and volunteering for clean up and rebuilding efforts.

It was just a little nerve wracking to hear the rain begin to thunder down again last night, but although things are mighty soggy, it seems to have stopped and the forecast doesn't look too bad. Hope it stays nice as we would like to get over to the fair a couple of times this week. Liz took the pony over so we are down two people for a good part of the week. Nobody here but Becky and the old folks.

This is what they were supposed to be doing

On the Egypt-BooBoo cow front, so far so good. I went outside when the cows were coming into the barn yesterday morning and made her stay outdoors. Then I milked Dublin and turned her out so Egypt couldn't get me and let Egypt come inside. At night the boss offered to do the squeezing in between and getting squashed. He is bigger than me and a darn sight tougher and Egypt didn't even give him any trouble.

Conquering Fear

Didn't sleep much last night. A long day; the boy off to work out of state again, and fear, so much fear.

It might not show much but I am timid about mean animals. I deal, because it is my job, but the fear is always there.

A couple of days ago Egypt, my gentle little Boo Boo cow from last year, had a big, black, half-shorthorn bull calf, a not unwelcome addition to the beef side of the program.

However, during her dry period, which was longer this year than the accustomed 6 to 8 weeks, Boo Boo decided that she didn't want people to come in the stall with her. She took to jumping sideways at anyone who dared to walk up in beside her. There is no stall divider there......We figured she would get over it when she calved....they usually become quite amenable at that time...and turned her back outdoors after she ate her grain.

Last year she stood next to an empty stall stall anyhow, so we didn't need to get that close to her. This year Dublin stands in the formerly empty stall so when Boo Boo jumps, there is a somewhat nervous, large, bony animal upon which to be crushed. Yesterday I tied her head to a pipe so she could only go just so far and then thin, supple, agile, fearless and almost four decades younger than I am, Alan milked Dublin. Once Dublin was turned out it was no biggie to milk Boo Boo. No anvil for the crushing surface.

However, he's gone to Jersey.....so I am more or less on my own.

I woke up at 3, afraid. Couldn't sleep. Visions of large, miserable, black rumps squashing me and big hooves stomping my feet.

However, thankfully the good Lord saw fit to give the less brawny among us the stuff between our ears. Around about 5 AM I had a thought.

I will milk Carlene and Bama Breeze, who stand on the other side of Dublin and turn them outside. Carlene has a good stall divider. I will have the girls help me put Boo Boo up in HER stall so I can milk Dublin without getting the squeeze put on me.

Problem solved. It was just about time to get up but I got just a little bit of real good sleep.Thank you sir.

Anonymous

Sorry I had to stop allowing anonymous comments. I want to keep the word verification turned off as the new style of WVs seem to be nearly impossible to match....sometimes it takes me three or four tries to comment on blogs that have them turned on...and I was getting dozens of spam comments every day. Even though they are sent to the spam filter I got notifications via email every single time I got one...annoying as heck.

With anonymous comments shut off they have stopped. I know it can be a pain in the backside to set up a profile, but I was constantly sorting good comments out of the spam....

Sunday Stills....Cats

This should have been easy, but the cats, being cats, refused to pose or look cute, or brave, or daring, or in any way interesting. That's how it is with cats... as cooperative as cows and just as independent. 

Simon, second in command, but always first at the screen door.

Elvis, head cat. He polices dogs like he owns them....wait, maybe he does

And Chain Saw, lord of the barnyard and doesn't he just know it!

Chain is the man, make no mistake 

For more Sunday Stills......