An Unseasonably Hot Day

This is the north country and we have fewer hot days than most of the nation, but we've had some this year which were brutal. On one recent hot day, I decided to clean the chicken coop. First I opened up the little chicken door and let the bantam hens outside:

They hadn't been out in a very long time but they remembered how much they loved the outdoors and immediately began eating grass and bugs. I suppose they also replaced the grit in their crops. They were clearly happy birds:

Blondie is on the left. She seemed so stupid as a chick that I never believed she'd make it to adulthood, but she's done fine:

Once the chickens were outdoors, I began shoveling the crud on the floor, which was about 7" deep, into a plastic bin:

 

  It was mostly dry, and I used a snow shovel to scoop it up:

I carried each bin out though the chicken coop door, through the pigeon room, along a narrow aisle, through another door, around the parked bush hog, over the old gutter trench and dumped it in the tractor's six foot bucket. When it was full, I drove it to the manure/compost pile and dumped it:

I then began to shovel the floor of the pigeons' room. This was more difficult because so much of it was wet from their baths and from a leaky water dispenser (which has been replaced). I never finished the entire room, but I removed enough to fill the tractor bucket once again. I dumped it also, then used the tractor to push a fence post back into place:

I didn't want to leave the chickens outdoors too long because of the many foxes we have, so I went up into the hayloft to retrieve the leaf rake which I use to herd the chickens. Five hens had already gone back to the safety of their room, but I wanted to round up the other six:

 I found three of them enjoying the sun, and the other three were in the shade of the Rhododendron right behind the sun bathers. I herded them back to the barn, up the ramp and back inside the safety of their newly cleaned room:

But before I put the tractor away, I drove out to the far end of the field, where the cattle were enjoying the shade:

They seemed perfectly contented and comfortable:

The two little horses, however, were out in the sun and grazing. They mostly ignored me as they worked to fill their bellies through the small opening in the front of their muzzles. By this time I had dust and sweat running into my eyes, making it difficult to see - so I hurried back to the barn, parked the tractor and decided to relax for the rest of the day:

Little Horses Of Winter

Remy likes to hang out inside the barn when the weather is cold and windy:

 And Blue follows wherever Remy goes:

 Remy at the barn door. Notice the frost on the end of his nose:

 Blue and Remy at the bale feeder with Jasmine. I don't remember where the other cows were at the time:

 I put the horses in their stall for the three coldest nights this winter, but that meant I had a lot of messy bedding and frozen poop to clean up. I have to fork it into the bin and then carry the bin out through the door to the tractor bucket:

 Of course I also had to clean the main barn floor where the cattle had spent the night. Then I put down new bedding hay. Remy and Blue thought I'd prepared a banquet table for them:


 Both little horses love to paw through the snow for any plant material to eat, even if it's plants they usually won't touch or if it's dead and brown. I suppose it's instinct to do so, an instinct which keeps wild horses alive during the winter:

 They each have a small stall for eating their grain, a place where they can't fight and the big cows can't bother them:

 And as soon as they're done eating, they begin making a racket by banging their metal pans on the concrete floor. They seem to think it's great fun, maybe even making music:


 Blue's snowy snout showed they he'd been digging in the snow for edible treasures:

 Like the cows, the horse's backs collect snow without melting it. They are quite well insulated:

 What is this, you may well ask. I took this photo from up in the hay loft, where I was tossing down hay for the horses below. They don't mind it falling on them and, in fact, seem to enjoy it:

Around The Farm

It's been a long, cold winter so far, though not as cold as most winters - and it's only half over. The fantail pigeons have stayed indoors and begun pairing up for the coming springtime:

If all twenty of them begin raising babies, I'll have too many this year and have to sell some:

The cows seem to thrive in the cold temperatures, at least as long as it stays above zero:

And the water in their stock tank has been kept thawed by an immersion heater. On really cold days, the water actually steams:

We had two days when it seemed so warm that I let the chickens out. They were unsure about the whole thing and some (possibly the smart ones) stayed inside. Those who ventured outside looked confused:

The hens came to the edge of the door and looked out at all the snow. They didn't know what to do:

This little hen dared to come outside but her feet were cold and she kept squatting down on them to keep them warm:

But eventually a small contingent ventured as far as the bird feeders. Getting them back indoors at the end of the day, however, was tricky. I had to herd them up the snowbanks and in through their door using a leaf rake:

We had enough snow melt for windfall apples to reappear, and lots of wild animals left tracks in the snow as they dined on them:

I got a cast iron Holstein doorstop at a secondhand store and put it atop a lamp stand:

Every morning after a light snow, I'd find bird tracks everywhere:

I had what I thought was a brilliant idea to put all the hay bales up in the hayloft next year. But I had to try it first, to see if it was possible. I picked up a bale and tried putting it in through the hayloft door. It would have fit, though just barely, but the tractor couldn't get it quite high enough. I may try building a ramp there next summer. The icebound hay bales are a real problem during the winter and keeping them in the hayloft would help - assuming, of course, that the floor could hold that much weight:

Part 1 - Porter Lynch Road

I was on my way home from the equipment store and a side trip to the town of Louisville (see previous posts) when I noticed this sign, not for the first time, for Porter Lynch Road. I figured that I'd already delayed my trip by touring Louisville, so I might as well turn and see what Porter Lynch Road had to offer:

Porter Lynch Road was very rural, with homes and farms which looked friendly and liveable:

This old, abandoned garage looked forlorn, a reminder of days long gone. I suspect it began life as a barn and those doors at the top were for loading hay:

There also were modern homes and it struck me that even the newest homes often had wide porches. It was part of the country life:

Old barns and silos, shiny new farm equipment:

Old farm homes:

Tractors, balers, all the requirements of farming:

This mobile home seemed to be cultivating Catalpa Trees, and I was surprised they'd grow in this cold climate. I've since checked their range map and they grow way up into Canada, apparently much more cold hardy than I'd realized:

The split rail fence continued on past the next house and I guessed that the two families were related:

I passed by a field of very colorful sheep:

An old barn with red doors, still part of an active farm:

A sprawling farm house. But there was more to see on Porter Lynch Road, and I'll post Part 2 tomorrow:

A Look Around The House And Barn

We arrived at the farm on a glorious day in early autumn and the first thing I saw was my newly finished barn. It sure looked good:

I parked and walked over to the apple trees for a better view of the barn. I was pleased:

It wasn't just the exterior of the barn they'd fixed. Some rotting walls and sagging beams had also been rebuilt. I was getting ready for cattle:

Up in the hayloft, I had new cross-braces to keep the roof from sagging. I had two new lights with new wiring to allow use during the night:

My old seed cleaner still stood unused and unloved in the hayloft and I wondered again if I could find it a home in some museum. But I also wondered if it would fit through the hayloft door. For now, it'll just have to stay where it is:

We moved into our little farm apartment where the dogs quickly made themselves comfortable. In truth, I was still in much pain from my earlier fall at the Ausable River and wanted to rest also:

Little Clover looked like a queen on her pillow:

Wally, not one to stand on ceremony, just got onto the bed, rolled over and began snoring:

Everyone was comfy and I decided to join them. I needed a nap:

When I awoke from my nap, I let the dogs out the side door:

The tenants' dogs are goofy, rowdy, young Lab mixes and, though friendly, are quite frightening to my small, old dogs. They watched from their fenced yard as my dogs walked around the lawn:

I didn't go any place that Sunday afternoon except for a visit with the neighbors, whose children asked me how I'd gotten so very bruised and cut. The dogs and I stayed home after that, cooked dinner and went to bed early. But in spite of my sore old body, I was still planning on some sort of the hike the next day. But I'll post about that tomorrow: