When Farming Feels Like Family
Sue’s flat-out sick and I’m trying to keep it at bay… cough, headache, fever, congestion… you know, that type of viral thing that makes it hard to stay up and work. However, Sue’s at work for a few hours because there’s work she simply must get done today. I just transferred frozen chicken from one freezer to another and collected eggs from our home gyrrls (what we affectionately call the hens that we keep just for ourselves—more on them later), and did this because it simply had to be done today… as did the feeding of our broilers and pullets and ducklings, as did letting them out this morning into their bright and chilly day. You know, I thought raising a child was the most ‘full time’ job I’d ever have… but, no… once she was old enough, if I really didn’t feel up to getting up and fixing breakfast, cereal would do and Jess could climb into bed with me or amuse herself in her room. Farming, on the other hand, is actually full time~ every day you have to do it, no matter how old the animals are or how rotten you feel.
Also similar to parenting is the surprising pride I feel that our ‘special’ gal, Gail, has become a hen. Yes, three months after her hatch sister, Violet, began laying her daily egg (100% of the time, I might add), Gail remained an undeveloped pullet. I was thinking that given the fact that she is legally blind (she can only see some shadows), her beak and head are somewhat twisted and we were concerned her innards might be as well… with all these concerns, it was just fine that Gail not mature. Then one day I bent to pet her and she “assumed the position”… a squatty, wings out to the side, ready for love look that I had no idea about with our first hens. In fact, when Beth, our first pullet to lay, first squatted down like that, I was quick to pick her up and reassure her I meant her no harm, of course not! Then I saw her do it for Mr. McNugget and saw his response to it and… oh! Sure enough, shortly after that she began laying. And now our little Gail (named after Sue’s favorite eye doctor of all time) has in fact matured and is now laying an egg every day. She’s not only okay, when our friend Rachel visited the other day, she immediately commented on her “Why look at that Gail! She looks fabulous!” or something like that… in any event, Rachel noticed Gail’s gyrrly glow.
So I have motherly pride in Gail’s becoming a young hen, and motherly fatigue from taking care of the poultry even when I don’t feel at all well. Now, how to I feel about our cattle? I think it’s a bit early to tell. You know, we have cows of our own on the farm now~ to be more exact, two pregnant cows and their steer calves. It was different when the cattle belonged to someone else.. much more emotional distance, even though Sue and I were thrilled when they calved and worried when it took a long time and much bawling to complete delivery. Our cows will deliver in April, most likely, and we’re hoping for heifers, which are what gyrrl cattle are before they have their first baby and become cows. Boy calves are bulls and they stay that way unless they’re ‘un-boyed’ and then they’re steer… I think you catch my drift. If we get two heifers, we’ll have the 4 gals we want to make babies every year, so that we have no more than 8-10 cattle on the land at any given time. The steers will become food in the summer, and we are grateful for that—filling our freezer and providing income as well. Our newest arrivals came from Coyote Creek Farm and we’ve been waiting for them for awhile~ to have their calves, get pregnant and be ready to move. Their breed is called South Polls and we think they’re magnificent… our neighbor Otis told Sue that we have “some fine looking cattle there”… we’re so proud. Welllll then.... I guess I feel both parental pride and also some sisterly affinity to our cattle… I just know we’re glad they’re here!
Sue’s on her way home, waning fast, she said. Me, too, so I’ll close and post, then back to bed for another rest before the afternoon chores begin. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not complaining—I look out the window and see our two keeper broilers, Golden Freedom Rangers named Golda and Hillary… they’re just scratching and pecking and murmuring their soft chicken talk (okay, I’m inside, just imaging that last part, since I can’t hear them… but I know what they do as they make their way around the farm)… the cattle are up here by the cross fence, flipping their tails at flies as they nibble the good grasses of our pasture… the ducks are as usual milling about like a school of fish… and the pullets… dog gone it! They’re back in the duck house, eating their food again… gotta go!
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