Random Shots From Around The Farm

The cows have gotten incredibly tame, at least while they are eating. Sweet feed is a powerful incentive. But they have become quite used to me even outside when they're not eating. Jasmine, ear tag #32, is the only one I'd actually call affectionate, but she certainly is:

Each morning, after they get their grain, I clean out all the manure left from their night inside the barn. Then I go up into the hay loft and fork down a big pile of old bedding hay. I come back downstairs and spread it around, then lock the cows outside for the day. After their evening grain feeding, I leave the door open so they can come and go at will. They spend each winter night indoors, but I am looking forward to nice weather so they can sleep outdoors and I will have no manure to clean in the mornings. This photo was taken right after I put down new hay. You can tell by the lack of manure on it:

The bedding hay is somewhere between 8 and 20 years old. It's musty, dusty and yucky - but they always have to taste it, clearly hoping it's something really yummy which I've been saving for them. They are always disappointed (well, sometimes they find it edible) and then go back outdoors for some of this year's hay:

Raking up the old, old hay in the loft is very dusty, so much so that I've taken to wearing a dust mask:

One of the girls tried on a fright wig made of hay:

The most exciting day is the one in which I bring them in a new bale of hay. I've learned to remove the twine (a lengthy and frustrating job, as much of it is iced in place) outside the gate. When I tried to remove the twine inside the gate, I had hungry cows, crowding around to taste the new bale:

Their red coats glowed in the afternoon sun:

Most of the windfall apples were buried in about 18" of snow, but our big ice storm knocked more of them to the ground. I tried to pick some up but discovered that they were very rotten, so much so that they squirted when I tried to pick them up:

My twelve little bantam hens began laying three or four eggs per day. I ate them at first, but then became worried about my heart and cholesterol. I really didn't need to eat any at all, so I began collecting them and scrambling them for the dogs when I'd amassed a dozen:

Needless to say, the dogs are ecstatic on scrambled egg day:

When it's below zero, I discover these fancy gems in the barn. The cows' bedding is ornamented with what look rather like geodes, glistening in the sunlight. Alas, they are only cow pies, and it was so cold that the steam froze and crystallized:

Every so often I tiptoe into the barn after dark to make sure the cattle are OK and they haven't pushed one of the lower ranking cows out of the barn. When I flip the lights on, I always find them sleeping as a group, all comfy and happy in their bedding hay. I leave quickly, lest they stand up, hoping I've come to feed them grain: