Sunday. Went out for a brief check on everything before church. Every day I have to give a small amount of grain to our weaned steers. They are still (always) grazing and get hay when needed and are not allowed to free feed on the grain, so they really enjoy their little treat. I call them as I fill their bucket, and I’m sure they can hear the grain slapping down into it because they coming running and bellowing from two acres away. They are so appreciative that it’s one of the highlights of my day.
A cow is on the wrong side of the electric fence when I check it to make sure all the little posts are up. She instinctively wants to be with the herd so it’s not hard to walk her back where she needs to be. I have to pull some of the posts out and lay them on the ground so that the electric wire is flat, and she gingerly steps her way across it and rejoins her pals. It’s all good, because that all happened to take place right beside the solar powered electric box, and I noticed I didn’t hear it ticking. It had been off this whole time—two days! I turned the knob to “on” and the reassuring tick let me know that hateful electric pulse is now coursing through the wire.
Riding back to the house I noticed that the sheep have remained in the same field. Glory be.
We try to arrange our Sundays so that we can “remember the Sabbath Day to keep it holy”, which means we go to worship and then take a break from our weekly work and spend time with family and friends. So farm chores are kept to a minimum. But with tomorrow’s rain promising to douse the already muddy pastures, I want the cows to have enough hay so that I can keep the tractor off the pastures for two or three days.
So after church I top off all the hay rings. It takes me three trips, done in full daylight, and no cows rush me. A good day.
Monday. The weaned steers were already waiting for me when I arrived to give them their grain. I think they can hear the four wheeler coming, so they take their place at the table.
Today is our run to the meat processor to pick up two cows. We drive a little over two hours to Yoder Brothers in Paris, TN, so this chore is usually an all day thing. Lauren and I drove through a torrential downpour—I wasn’t sure how we could manage loading and unloading all that meat in such weather. But, just as we drove up the rain subsided. Yay.
The folks at Yoder’s had everything ready for us, so loading the van was fairly quick. By the time we arrived back home the wet weather had passed and we unloaded in the sunshine. Lauren is a trooper, and while she doesn’t particularly like this chore, she is quick and efficient (and strong), so the work was done in no time.
It’s late afternoon now and I take some time to sit outside and enjoy what might be the last warm day in a while—it is December after all. From my perch I can see the cows and the sheep and listen to the sounds of the farm. It’s peaceful, and I am deeply thankful to be here.