How bad was it this summer?

When farm work piles up outside, the first thing to get ousted from the to-do list is housework.

I was going through the photos on my computer to pick out snapshots for our annual family photo book when I came across these two pictures. Upon seeing them, I immediately remembered taking them with the intention of blogging about them, but never got around to it — for the same reasons that the dishes got so out of hand. Between field work and special projects, we were swamped!

Dish mountain!

I asked our neighbor to watch Dan and Monika one scorching afternoon so Glen and I could haul some soon-to-calve heifers and dry cows home from pasture. I told her to ignore the condition of the house. She said she understood, since she was once a farming mom with young children. I came home to find she had washed every single dish that had been piled on the counter. Needless to say, we have wonderful neighbors!

Oops! That was supposed to be part of supper.

I have no idea how long this dish of vegetables sat in the microwave! They were supposed to be part of a quick supper after a long day of chores. Apparently, I was so deliriously tired I didn't remember to take them out. When I found them, I had a hard time deciding whether to laugh or cry.

The other sign that this summer was truly grueling? I forced myself to drink coffee one afternoon in a desperate attempt to find the energy to complete evening chores. It didn't take long for me to remember why I don't drink coffee; even when mixed 50:50 with chocolate milk, it still made me sick to my stomach.

I'm happy to say that farm chores take a much more reasonable amount of time now. We're still busy, but I'm managing to keep up with the dishes. (I can't say the same for the laundry, but that's a whole different post.)

Giving thanks

I added the last of the leftover turkey to big pot of chili yesterday. Another Thanksgiving celebration has come to an end.

It almost seems like Thanksgiving never happened. The retail world packed away the Halloween paraphernalia and jumped right into Christmas, with hardly a nod to one of our most important holidays. Apparently important doesn't always equate to profitable.

Maybe I shouldn't be irritated that Thanksgiving got lost in the rush to start Christmas. Maybe I'm too old fashioned. But I think we need to spend more time giving thanks for what we have and less time focusing on what we want.

As a parent, cultivating an attitude of thankfulness in our children is a daily challenge. Dan wants everything right now – everything he sees at the store or in a catalog or on a commercial. I tell him to put it on his wish list for his birthday or Christmas.

I must repeat that line a lot, because now Monika has started telling me what she wants for her birthday. (I don't think she quite understands, though, because tonight she told me she wanted one of the newborn calves for her birthday.)

This overwhelming desire for everything they see, coupled with the fact that they've never had to go without, makes them less appreciative of what they have.

I think Dan is old enough now to understand what I mean when I tell him that some kids don't have any supper and some kids don't have any toys, but I don't think he can fully grasp the concept. For that matter, though, I have a hard time imagining what its like to live without adequate food or the comforts of belongings.

For that, I truly am thankful. And I'm thankful we can provide for our children.

Some day, I hope they will fully appreciate the abundance in their lives. For now, I try to encourage thankfulness with this bedtime prayer. For as long as I can remember, I've said a prayer of thanks before drifting off to sleep. This is a simplified version of that prayer.

Thank you for our family.

Thank you for our friends.

Thank you for our farm.

Thank you for our animals.

Thank you for our food.

And thank you for our lives.

Amen

Sometimes Dan says it with me; most of the time he repeats the lines after me. He almost always interjects after the line about animals because he wants to say thank you for the jungle animals and the ocean animals and the forest animals. Monika joins us for the Amen. (Interestingly, when we come to the end of a story book and say The End, Monika says Amen instead.)

Regardless of how we say it, what's important is that for at least one moment each day we're focusing on what we have instead of what we want.

How do you practice thankfulness in your life? How are you fostering thankfulness in your children?

The biggest comeback ever

This is Peanut. She's one of the Brown Swiss-Holstein crosses in our herd. She recently celebrated her 6th birthday and is in her 4th lactation.

Unfortunately, Peanut inherited her Holstein mother's poor feet and legs, so there are times when her feet get pretty sore. This summer was one of those times. (For the non-farmers reading this, heat hurts cows feet and we had a lot of hot days this summer.)

Not only were her feet sore, but she also developed a large cyst on her left rear knee. We gave her aspirin every day to help ease the pain and even kept her in the barn on some of the hottest days so she wouldn't have to walk so much in the pasture. But Peanut's milk production still fell. (When cows don't feel good, they don't eat, and when they don't eat, they don't make milk.) And she didn't come in heat.

So, we put Peanut on the 'Do Not Breed' list, which meant that once we were done with the grazing season, we would say goodbye to Peanut.

But, then, with a little therapy, the cyst on Peanut's knee went away. And then her feet started to feel better. By mid-October, Peanut was pain free. When she came in for milking, her udder was full. And when she came in heat, Glen took her off the 'Do Not Breed' list. 

When we tested milk last week, we were astonished by just how much better Peanut was feeling. On the October test, Peanut gave 50 pounds of milk. On our November test, Peanut produced 90 pounds.

Peanut's lactation curve (in red)

[Chart from McGill Univ. Dept. of Animal Science]

So, now we don't know what we'll do with Peanut. We're in the process of reducing our numbers to get back down to our winter size, so every cow's performance is under evaluation. If Peanut's pregnancy test comes back positive in a couple weeks, she'll probably get to stay. And if she does, she'll complete the biggest comeback ever.

Meet Beth

A couple weeks ago during evening milking, our neighbor and a couple of her family members from out of state came over to watch milking. Our neighbor's nephew's wife, Beth, had never visited a dairy farm before.

Beth had lots of great questions. And since she's a nurse that works with newborn human babies, many of her questions were about lactation and baby calves. I answered Beth's questions and helped her milk Harley, one of our cows. When milking was done, Beth and her sister-in-law, Kayla, took turns feeding one our newborn calves his bottle.

Beth asked how we come up with names for all of our cows. I explained that we name all the calves when they're born, most of the time with a name that starts with the same letter as the calf's mother's name. Calves' names often reflect what's happening in our lives at the time of their birth.

Beth then asked if we would name a calf after her. I told her I sure would; Bloom, Belle and Bitsy were due to calve in the next couple weeks and at least one of those calves should be a heifer.

On October 12, Bitsy had a heifer calf and we were able to grant Beth's wish. Beth, the calf, is off to a great start. She's a curious, spunky calf.

And she's a constant reminder of our visit with Beth, the nurse, and the opportunity to introduce her to dairy farming.

Kids, then cows

For the past four years, we arranged our kids' schedule around the cows' schedule. I used to tell myself that our kids were learning adaptability and flexibility by living their lives around the cows' schedule. And, honestly, I think that's true. It wasn't a disaster if our kids didn't go to bed exactly on time or have their snack on time.

But now that Dan is in school and we have to abide by the rest of the world's schedule, a lot has changed. The kids' schedule comes first now.

It became clear after the first couple weeks of school that Dan couldn't just go to bed early on the nights before school. Going to bed early one night and going to bed later the next night was like having a kid on a yo-yo.

So now bedtime is early every night, with an occasional exception. That means I handle bedtime by myself most nights and Glen ends up finishing chores by himself. I wasn't in favor of this type of division of duties, but it's actually working out quite well.

Dan and Monika have adjusted to the new schedule. I'm still adjusting to them waking up earlier on the days Dan doesn't have school, but that will come. The improvements we made to the heifer facilities this summer make it a lot easier for Glen for finish chores alone and allow me to focus on the kids without worrying about how chores are going outside.

"We'll figure it out when we get there," is one of the mottos I live by. And as much as I fretted about how we'd adjust to Dan starting school, I held to the belief that we'd figure it out. And we have.

Halloween fun

Dan and Monika had a blast trick-or-treating this year. (I had fun, too.) We made a record number of stops to see our friends and family, and we didn't have any incidents involving tears, tantrums or tired kids. At least until we got home; the minute Monika got out of the car, she refused to take another step and insisted that I carry her to the house.