Farm life for a week

We brought our muck boots. I had gone to DI and found a pair of jeans and four men's T-shirts with a high neck. I had knee socks for all of us. We were as prepared as I knew how to be. (Later we went to town and Craig bought Boaz and I some leather gloves.)

The barn still was a revelation. Craig said Boaz gagged the first time he went in. I must have been chatting with Brenda. Craig knew what to do and got right to work. I learned about milking in the evening. They have two milking machines. I watched them assemble all the parts and helped carry the milk to the tank. I scrapped poop and observed. Craig and Brenda did most of the work. Boaz was an interested learner. 

The next morning, Craig got up early to milk. I hate getting up in the morning. And five o'clock is seriously early. I didn't have breakfast waiting the first day. Craig teased me a bit and we settled into a routine. I made breakfast and had it ready after milking and steer wrangling. Boaz got up and helped in the barn. Brenda and Craig milked and wrangled steers. The steer spend the night in the barn yard and then come into the barn for the day. The cows spend the night in the barn and the day out to pasture. This way the steers and the cows are separated. 

Nap time. I would use this time to play on my tablet, catch up a bit on the news, and read the blogs I follow. 

After nap time, I would help clean the barn. There is a cement trough right behind the stalls. In the trough is a chain with arms. Once the chain is turned on, the arms sweep the poop through the barn and up the shoot into the waiting manure spreader. So, I would scrap the poop into the trough, turn on the chain and Craig would scrap clean the arms as they went dumped the poop and went around back to the barn. It was a bit like a ski lift for cow dung. 

Craig would take the tractor and drive through the woods to the field to spread the poop. Boaz went with him and Craig introduced him to the joys of driving. The second day (I think) I went with them. Craig got it started and then he and Boaz switched places and Boaz drove down the lane. The dirt road still had mud holes. Craig guided Boaz through the hazards, mostly. We hit one and got stuck. The big, fat, right, rear wheel sank half way in the thick, sticky goo. I remembered Craig's stories of getting the tracker stuck in the mud in March so badly that he had to get help. A truck had to pull him out. 

My heart sank. Getting the tracker stuck is not helpful. 

Boaz and I climbed of the crazy, tilted tractor and moved to high ground to watch Craig try and get the thing out. Less than five minutes later, his face wearing a huge, victorious grin, the tractor was free. I am still amazed. I thought the thing might tip over it was so off balance. 

I told Boaz several times that when you are first learning something new, it is never your fault. He felt so badly and blamed himself for getting the tractor stuck. He is that kind of boy who is so serious and assumes responsibility for things. 

Boaz and I got back on the thing. Craig started it up, got down the road a bit and then had Boaz drive again. Boaz was very nervous. I was very nervous. Every mud puddle hid treacherous sink holes in my imagination, but we made it to the field. Craig told Boaz that when he got the tractor stuck, he had to get help. This time it was only a little stuck. Craig took over when it came time to spread the manure and Boaz drove us back home. I held my breath at the nasty spot that had grabbed the tractor and had not wanted to let it go, but Craig helped Boaz steer a clear path and we were home free. 

Boaz became the egg checker and steer wrangler. He was Craig's shadow and learned how to do farm chores. He feed Thor, the baby bull, helped water the pens of babies, heifers and steers, scrapped poop, assisted in milking and anything else that needed doing. 

I became the farm cook. I made breakfast and dinner and had it on the table waiting for them when milking chores were over. 

I put a bit of sugar and nutmeg in this one. Yummy. 

Fresh berries and real maple syrup. Fabulous breakfast. 

I begged rhubarb recipes from Brenda's mother-in-law and made rhubarb muffins. 

I didn't get any pictures of the finished product, but I made them four times. There was a lovely rhubarb plant right out the door. 

One morning the elders came to help wrestle steers. I made German pancakes, rhubarb muffins and Brenda's recipe for baked oatmeal. It was delicious. 

Baked Oatmeal

1/2 cup oil

1/2 cup sugar

2 eggs

Mix together. 

3 cups oats

2 tea baking powder

1/2 tea salt (or less)

1 cup milk

Mix pour into greased 9x9 square pan. Bake at 350 degrees for 20-25 minutes. 

Serve with plain yogurt (Greek) and berries. 

One morning I made hash browns and eggs. I'm not usually the breakfast cook, but I did okay. 

Dinners. 

I made Tom Ka soup. Brenda loved the soup, but hated the name. She calls it red curry soup. I found the recipe on Pinterst. 

I honestly don't remember the dinners. But I do remember ringing the dinner bell.. Craig told me that was important on a farm. He and Brenda loved it when I did. 

Apart from cooking, I helped clean the barn in the mornings, one day I helped Brenda find where the electric fence was disconnected. Basically I turned the fence one and off. I looked for eggs a few times. I rode with Craig on the tractor. I helped him hook things up to the tractor - a scarey job trying to put the pin in while Craig tried not to pop the clutch and judge the distance on a tractor that had no brakes. I helped milk a few times. I watered the babies. I raked the mowed grass and distributed it to the babies. I helped feed the cows. I cooed at the horses. I clucked at the chickens. I laughed at the pig. I walked more than I have ever in one week since college. 

I got a few pictures close to the end of our stay. 

The steers eating their breakfast. You can see the clean poop trough behind them. 

Poor Julia. She had to stay in because she is pregnant and needs to stop producing milk. That means no fresh grass. 

Thor. I tried to get a picture of him drinking from the hose. His tounge is long and black. But I was in the middle of watering the other babies and didn't have my camera out when he was in process. The water ran into a five gallon bucket. The other babies pens are just down the aisle in the second part of the barn. Directly across from him is the ramp for the manure spreader. 

Farm work is a dirty business. Craig is taking a bit of a break while he talks to Thea. 

The tractor. Imagine that huge wheel buried up to the axel in mud. I didn't get a picture of Boaz driving. Rats!

The three Guinea fowls. They eat the ticks. I found them charming. 

One of the chickens. They loved the kitchen scrapps. They were very interested every time I came with my bowl of whatever. 

The fat pig in his house. He didn't trust anybody. But he loved the milk he got at milking time. 

This is the Percheron stallion that came to visit the mares. I didn't get a picture of the mares. They are gorgeous. There shoulders are about as tall as my shoulder.  They are draft horses, but can be ridden. Craig says they were the horses the knights rode into war. They were also the mainstay farm horses. The farm uses them to pull sleighs in the winter. The farm has a lovely winter business where the horses pull sleighs around the woods, to and from Bon fires. 

He was a bit agitated. He had already visited the ladies and now he was solo. He kicked a hole in his water barrel out of frustration one day. Poor guy. 

Oh, I did get a picture of the mares. You really don't get a good feel for how big they are though. Next Spring will be fun with little babies running around. 

I didn't get a picture of the donkey or the dogs and barn cats. I didn't get a picture of Brenda's cats that she brought from Oregon. 

I spent the whole week without make-up and I guess that hindered the urge to take pictures. That and I was tired and dirty and the camera was in the house most of the time. It was a process to go in and out. Boots had to come off every time you went in.