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Hi Everyone,

               It is raining outside—a much welcomed event (although I am saying that as I sit inside our cozy dry house and Papa is outside doing the evening chores in the rain). I did take some time to sit on the back porch this afternoon to just relax and enjoy the rain. Life here on the farm has been extra busy as Mama has caught a cold and it has taken its toll on her. Therefore, I have to do some of her work—but thankfully so far she has managed to drag herself outside every morning to help milk the cows. I am very grateful for that, although I feel bad for her. One day she spent the day working in her courtyard garden in hopes to sweat out the cold—but alas it only made matters worse.          

               Wayland and Shayne have been a lot of help on the farm and I was really happy about the amount of time that we were able to spend in the garden Thursday and Friday. Wayland comes in and works four hours in the morning helping Papa do all the field chores (feed and move the meat chickens, feed the heifers, feed the bulls, and feed one set of laying hens and the ducks). Then Shayne comes in and works four hours in the afternoon helping me package eggs and tend to the gardens. So far we have been able to: trim up an oak tree that we cannot drive under anymore—preventing easy navigating and mowing in the garden; weed the South Market Garden; mow and weed eat some areas around the gardens and milking parlor; mow and weed in Martha’s Vineyard; and clean up in the East Garden by weeding and removing dead sunflowers, watermelon, mullein, and cantaloupe plants—and trimming back some zinnias, cosmos and Tithonia so that we can navigate the walkways better.

               One event happened last week that affected the rest of the week—and will continue to affect us for the next four months. Our dear cow Emma died! Emma was only nine years old—but she had a rough life. She was about six years old when a rattlesnake bit her foot and crippled her up for months. I learned that cows could run on three legs! She had just calved when the rattlesnake bit her—and we had just lost two others to a lightning strike so I refused to give up hope on Emma. The vet told me to dry her off and that she probably would have to be put down—but I believed that she would get better and I kept milking her, but I threw the milk away. Emma hobbled around and she spent a lot of time lying down—but after a few months she began to heal and little by little she began to use her foot again. The vet declared her healthy enough to keep her milk—and I was so happy that I hadn’t dried her off. Emma made a complete recovery over time and went on to calve a few more times. Then last winter she got sick and got real puny. We had to dry her off just to preserve her life. Then come spring she started to gain weight and look lively again. She got fat and sassy and once again she calved—a cute little red and white heifer that we named Emmy. Emma produced more milk than she ever had, and I honestly expected to be milking her for years to come—but three weeks ago she began to get picky about eating her alfalfa pellets. She still ate her hay and the grass—just not her alfalfa pellets. Then a week ago her health plummeted. I had Papa separate her calf one night just so that I could see if she still had any milk—for it looked like Emmy was either keeping her milked out or Emma wasn’t producing any milk. To my dismay the next morning the truth was very vivid—Emma had no more milk for her calf! We put Emmy with our other bottle calf—Leeann. Leeann’s mother (Analee) was the other cow that got sick last winter and she never recovered like Emma—but like Emma she also gave birth to a precious little heifer. Both mothers nursed their calves for exactly seven weeks before they died.

               So now we have two bottle calves. Leeann is sweet and lovable. Emmy is wild and independent. Sometimes it can take a few feedings to get a calf to take to a bottle—and Emmy was no exception. Leeann took a few times, but then she eagerly greeted you and nursed most happily. Mama halter trained her and could walk her everywhere on a lead rope. We started bottle feeding Emmy on Tuesday—we still have to wrestle her down to get her to stand (or her favorite position—lay down) to take her bottle. Once she is caught and the bottle is inserted she gladly sucks away. Thursday morning I had Wayland go with me to feed the calves and he took one look at Emmy and said, “O, it is her!” Wayland’s and Shayne’s first day working together doing chores found them chasing Emmy from one end of the chestnut field to the other end because she didn’t go out the gate with the herd when they were bringing the cows in for us to milk them. She was a calf he would not forget! Come Friday I was fixing to have Wayland help me bottle feed the calves when I had a flow of customers show up that I had to take care of. The clock was ticking fast and there was only twenty minutes until Wayland’s time was up for the day. So I asked Wayland if he thought that he could go feed the calves without me—and he said yes. When I finished with the customers I headed down to the barn to see if he needed any help. Leeann had taken her bottle like a pro, and Wayland had refilled the bottle for Emmy—but the method that worked for Leeann was not working for Emmy. All you have to do with Leeann is hold the bottle out and she latches on—but Emmy has to be caught and the bottle stuck into her mouth before she starts nursing. I headed into the barn to show Wayland how to do it and when I got two feet away from Emmy she shot her right leg out behind her and kicked me in the knee before I even knew what had happened! Once I recovered from the shock and the pain I managed to tackle Emmy and stick the bottle in her mouth.

               Saturday morning rolled around and Mama was too sick to help and Papa was still trying to finish the morning chores—so I decided to feed the calves by myself. The barnyard was full of all ten of this season’s calves (for they had been separated so we could get first bids on the milk—calves don’t share). Leeann came right over to the panel and I was able to stick the bottle through the fence and she ate perfectly. Then I refilled the bottle for Emmy and went inside the pen. Emmy saw me and took off in the opposite direction. I tried to shoo her into the barn—but we were running circles instead. Then I managed to get close enough to grab a fist full of her halter and I began to walk in the direction of the barn. She was kind of coming—and kind of not coming. Then all of a sudden she pulled back just enough that the halter slipped off her ear. I managed to keep a grip on her and pull the halter back over her ear. By now I realized that I was not going to be able to drag her to the barn—I just needed to drop her to the ground right there. Well, right there didn’t exactly happen so easily. I grabbed one front leg and then the other front leg—all while she jumped and we ran circles. I almost lost her and then I grabbed her back leg and was finally able to flip her to the ground. She landed flat—and I landed flat on top of her. We both lay there breathing very hard and fast. I laid there for a few minutes to catch my breath, and as I was laying there a few of the calves came over to investigate me. After a little while I finally set up and began to look around for the bottle—for I had set it down in order to catch Emmy. I spotted it about ten feet away, and I wondered if I would be able to grab it and get back to Emmy before she got up. Thankfully I managed to crawl over and back just in time, for when I returned with the bottle Emmy was just starting to sit up. I cozied up beside her and inserted the bottle in her mouth and she happily nursed away. In the meantime, Leeann was chewing on my sleeve, my ear, my chin, my hair, my cheeks, my neck, and my nose. I was quite covered in calf slobber. Hopefully sooner than later Emmy will be just as excited about taking a bottle as Leeann is, she may never be as sweet—but only time will tell.

Serving you with Gladness,

Tiare