Dairy Daze...and Now Beyond

All of our open heifers were bred to calve in November; at least we calculated that to be so when we put them in with the bull in February.  All of them calved last month.  At least all but one. This one was a hold out. Imagine my surprise when I went up there Sunday and found this little girl: She's another red one!  I could hardly believe it! And I am a bit bummed that we had to sell the bull that sired the red calves.  This is our third little red calf this year.  I told Gary that our calf buyers would be thrilled to get a little red heifer, as the other red calf they bought from us was a bull. Gary said; "Maybe we will keep her." If we do keep her I am going to call her "Lucy."  Don't you think that would be a good red-head to name her after?  (Always thankful to the Lord for fun little surprises.  A healthy calf and new mama cow are also wonderful blessings.)

Here in Missouri for many years my arch nemesis has been nothing more nor less than the proverbial Christmas tree.  For me it has been the fly in the ointment of my holiday cheer.  If you'd like to read more about this go here: Christmas Grinch But here, before I go further, is a picture of my little Christmas Tree Grinch-let.  This was her first Christmas, 2007.  Haha... We were at Gary's aunt's house, and Ellen was just not having any of this posing beneath the Christmas tree.  Nope, nope, nope! Anyway.  I digress. Here, also in 2007, is how I got our Christmas tree: Look at that smile.  And the rather dull saw.  Little did I know this chore would become an overwhelming aggravation. Fast forward to last year; 2017.  Mama had had enough.  Mama got a very nice fake Christmas tree from her Secret Pal in early 2018. And the wailing began...  (see above Ellen picture for an idea). So I said; "Fine.  I don't min...

This barn is yea-and-I-don't-know how many years old.  It is up on the ridge above Four Mile Creek.  When I go there and visit it, I am always saddened that we are unable to keep it up.  It is almost inaccessible, and the way it is built prevents it from being moved and restored elsewhere. Here is what I know of the story behind the old homestead.  I will edit this as I get more information. This is the house as it is now. The Howards originally came to this area in the late 1800s as far as I can gather.  They homesteaded up on the ridge; built a log cabin (no longer in existence) and a barn.  I do not know if this is the original barn, I would guess not.  I would guess the original was probably of logs as well, but I am not clear on that point.  There is also a pond to the west of the barn. The original homesteaders of the property were Edward Spain and Rachel (?) (Haney) Howard, I believe, though I am sure someone will corr...

Yet again Bella and I forsook civilization and fled to the hills.  Well, really, I went over to the homestead to check on the pecans.  But let's not get technical.  The dog and I fled the confines of our usual routine and immersed ourselves in the beauty of the season. This is probably the most colorful fall I have seen in Missouri since I came here.  There is no way to completely capture it on camera.  But I took a few shots. Going up the trail to the homestead on the back ridge I got distracted because it looked like Midas had passed through.  The whole hillside was yellow!  It was lovely. But Bella and I finally made it to our goal.  Though this guy was passing through:  I told him he'd best run. But then I reached the old pecan tree.  It fell over way back 11 years ago during the big ice storm of 2007.  There were 2 of them; huge, old.  The other one didn't make it, but this one lived and has thrived; mirac...

When I signed up for this gig, (i.e. got married) I knew that Dairy Daze wouldn't last forever; and it probably won't end any time soon, but this summer seems to have hastened the beginning of the end. We had an awful drought back in 2012.  We started feeding hay in mid-July.  But in the 5 years since then, 2013-17, we had some really wet summers.  So much so that we had a bit of a stockpile of hay going on.  So this past year Gary decided to use up as much of our old hay as possible.  This leaves us this year with minimal hay on hand. This summer has also been a drought.  We made it through July on what grass was in the field, and on a couple rainfalls of 2-3 hundredths of an inch of rain.  But Aug 9th Gary started toting hay to the dry cows. A few days before he'd sold all of our open heifers in Windyville; about 16 of them. We can't afford to have dead weight around here; so to speak. Then on the 7th, our hay guy from out western MO came ...

Ellen has taken a notion to love fishing.  She wanted to go again, so yesterday Gary got the whim, loaded us up and off we went to a friend's very large pond. Here are the photos from that trip. In one of those pictures is the reason we didn't take any of the fish home to eat.  I leave it to your perspicacity to figure it out.  haha (Blessing; I am thankful for Ellen learning to enjoy an outdoor activity.  Thankful for friends w/ stocked ponds.)

Today started off as a productive day; a little yard work, a little repair work up at my mom's place...you know.  Then a bit of random house work planned.  Well, in the middle of the house work, as I was piddling around in the kitchen, Ellen wants to take Bella for a bit of a walk and then bring her in the house. I figure; sure, we hadn't played with her yet today.  Why not? So in Bella came: Every dog needs a set of bee antenna; right? So Ellen played a bit with her, I made some laundry soap....etc. Then. I noticed something: I looked closer.  On the floor, which I hadn't swept or mopped yet due to the coming and going, red smears.  Red smears of blood. Gross. I inspected the dog's paws.  They were fine. Then I looked closer AGAIN at the floor. Huh?  There were little black seeds all over the floor.  Hundreds of little black seeds all over the floor. I got the broom and started sweeping them up.  But...

OR: 50 Reflections on Five Decades of Life 1:  Even after 50 years of life, I still intensely dislike gelatin; Jell-o or any brand.  If it's disguised, like in a poke cake, or one of those fluff salads, it's OK, but alone it's nasty.  My mom, when she still had her memory, said that even when I was a tiny kid she couldn't get me to eat it.  Said she would let the kids drink it sometimes, before it would gel.  But I wouldn't have anything to do with that mess either.  2. I am a so-so gardener.  I love to garden, but now there are a couple of things that have taken the wind out of my gardening sails, as it were. For one thing, my time is so fractured between different pursuits, it's hard to devote the time I'd like to.  Second, every thing I do seems to turn into some sort of disaster, it's hard to stay positive about it.  But, at this moment in April, I have about 20 teensy pepper plants sprouting.  And there are sweet taters coming o...

For the past year or two Ellen has wanted to go fishing.  I dunno why, she just has.  The main reason we haven't is mostly because of scheduling.  Everyone rather wanted it to be a family affair; to get us all together, including the grandmas, and make a picnic out of it. This opportunity came when I gave up my Sunday School class this past May. So we made big plans for last Sunday; which coincidentally happened to be Father's Day. We packed a lunch, picked up Aunt Kathy and Grandma Davis (my mother) and off we went to Bennett Spring. First thing we did was unpack the Grandmas: The Rollator Brigade. Then we ambled over to the store there, I dunno its official name, and got fishing licenses and day passes for Gary and Ellen.  After that the fun began. I didn't manage to get a shot of Ellen actually casting or fishing.  The fish all remained safe for Gary and Ellen's part; though the lady a hundred or so yards down was catching ...