Sunny Beaches!

Vacation was lovely. It wasn't as laid back and relaxing as I would have liked, but with 4 kids (one of them 3 yrs. old) how laid back and relaxed could it be, right? Besides, nearly everything is hard for me right now. I am a miserable pregnant woman after all. I also suffered from an ear problem that made me feel ill while away. But all in all, it couldn't have gone better!

And partly it was the run up to vacation that was hard to recover from and which set the tone for the following week of vacation. As you may remember from my last post, we were busy the week preceding our travels. We bought a new mini-van in a town far away, got an auto loan, installed guttering and downspouts on the pole barn, fixed the garage door opener, got new living room furniture, prepared for a new school year, hunted for escapee cattle, attended a Holy Day Mass, arranged for a farm insurance policy instead of a homeowners policy, changed insurance providers, returned library books, took garbage and recycling to the drop-off location, and packed and planned for vacation- among other things- the week before we left.

(Disclaimer: I neglected to pack my camera cable, so I have no pictures from this year, as it was needed to recharge the camera battery that had drained. You get to enjoy a few pics from a previous vacation at the same location.)

We rented a cottage on glorious Lake Michigan, with its sugar-sand beaches, stunning sunsets, wind, wildlife, and waves. We had a blast in the water jumping waves, riding floats, and paddling. We constructed things in the sand. We took wave-side walks along the empty beach. We flew our giant kite, even playing tag with it and using it to kite-surf (pull a rider on a float across the water.) We waved at the pilot of the pontoon plane that did low fly-overs. We read books for pleasure. We went to sleep with the sound of waves in our ears. We reveled in the lake breezes whisking through the screened patio doors. We could even see the lake from the kitchen table!

Then there was the food! We stopped at a natural foods market on the way in, and made most of our meals. But we also ate ice cream. We ordered take-out pizza. We ate fresh, organic, local blueberries. We grilled out. We dined out next to the water for lunch one day. We picnicked on the cottage's patio overlooking the beach. We made s'mores the night before we left.

There was also our sight-seeing excursions. We walked the harbor front and pier to the light house. We witnessed a magnificent moon-set. And we stayed for the giant musical fountain performance. We raced go-karts. (I didn't, obviously.) We visited the Holland Museum and the historic Capon House and Settler's Houses. We toured the USS Silversides submarine. They even started 2 of the 4 diesel motors while we were aboard- a rare (and noisey/smokey) treat! We also toured the associated museum and a prohibition-era Coast Guard Cutter. 

And of course there was the fauna. We saw 3 different kinds of mantis, 3 different types of squirrel, hummingbirds, bats, butterflies, a wild swan, migrating geese, deer, and of course sea gulls. They are fun to feed. How blessed we are!

But now we're back to the "real world." This week isn't much less busy. I started things off on Sunday (our first day back) by spending 5.5 hrs. at PromptCare for my ear after Mass, and then followed that with grocery shopping. A correction to our loan paperwork was needed Monday. I had a visit with the midwife. My oldest daughter tried out for IU's Allegro Choir (and made it!) A video needed to be returned to the library. The girls needed to be registered for choir. Normal things needed done like bills needed to be paid, laundry and dishes needed washed, etc. (Keep in mind we're 45 minutes from where all of the errands were.)

And tomorrow our mattresses are being delivered. I have an OB appt. Choir rehearsals start. I also have some things left to unpack from vacation. Violin lessons need to be set up. And then there's school, etc.!

Oh, and the cows are still here, in case you wondered. (Here they are at "nap time.") They are picturesque from a distance. But they are mucking up our camping spot, and are not staying off the dam. I suppose we had better rope that off soon.

The Cattle are Loose

It's been a busy week. We've arranged for new insurance (farm and auto.) We've had a new gutter hung on the pole barn. We've been vehicle shopping and selected a new one to buy. We've jumped through the necessary hoops for an auto loan. Our living room furniture was delivered. We've made some big decisions concerning the upcoming school year. We've been making last minute preparations for our upcoming vacation. And the kicker... the cows disappeared.

Yesterday, when going over my son's math placement test, I thought I heard a resounding moo from the woods behind us. The cows are not supposed to be in the woods behind us. They don't belong to us. "The cow's are out!" I called out to my husband, as I jumped up. He slipped on his boots and ran out into the woods to try to locate them while I prayed he wasn't trampled. :)

He didn't see any cattle. We chalked up the occurrence to echoes. All the ravines and trees in limestone country lend themselves to echoes. But then we were still a little on edge, and began keeping a look out for them in between our other duties. 

For the rest of the day the only cow we saw was the "one with the bad eye." It had been damaged at years ago by the horn of another cow. She was blind in one eye. We saw her walk the fence along the drive and the fence along the back of the house... alone... seemingly looking for the others. But then, she always "feels" her way around. 

Before dinner my husband took the truck and drove around the pasture. He saw no signs of any other cows. He made sure they didn't get into the lower barn after the hay, did some minimal traipsing through the woods. He didn't see any. So, he called our neighbor to alert him- just in case.

Out came the trucks, the go-buggies, the disgruntled family members of our neighbor. They walked the ravines. They pushed through underbrush. They walked the sections of fence in the woods. They did their best to comb our 30 acres. 

Then they drove nearby roads. They beat through the woods behind our property. They saw torn shrubbery, hoof prints, and cow pies... in the woods behind our property that we do not own. Eventually my oldest son and husband had to come in to clean up. It was a Holy Day.

When we returned from the solemn Mass of the Assumption it was dusk. The cows had still not been found. It was decided that the quarry was going to be called in the morning. Apparently the quarry attracts cows like it attracts lightning. (Our new insurance agent told us about the nearby quarry attracting lightning strikes.) But that's a story for another day.

Last night we were fretting about the creatures. One section of our corner of woods bears three strands of barbed wire. But the back section bears one sagging strand. We had been worried about that from the beginning. But our neighbor had assured us at the outset, "They'll mostly stay up here in the front pasture. They won't go on the dam. They won't go into the woods." 

Stretching more barbed wire through poison-ivy infested, thicket-clogged hills and ravines sounded expensive and unpleasant. Plus, it was all we could do to mend the post and beam fence before he moved the cows last Saturday. We took his word for it. 

So last night we went to bed worried, looking forward to the unpleasant prospect of cattle hunting today, and the delay of more of our plans. Our only consolation was our newly purchased farm policy. If liability for any damages the cows incurred was pinned on us, we'd be covered. Although it did seem like it would raise some eyebrows since the policy took effect the very day of the disappearing cows.  

This morning at 6:30 my husband went out and saw all the cows bedded down in the hay near the front of the property by the road. It was a frustration, a mystery, and a relief all at the same time. We don't think they were in the woods last night when everyone was combing through them after all. I guess 30 acres is a lot of land to hide in when half of it is wooded and thickets! But one important thing was learned. The cows have been straying into the neighboring woods. 

We volunteered the materials to string more wire, but we simply don't have the time to string 3 strands of barbs 500 feet or more up hill, down ravine, and through brambles. We'll see if our neighbor decides to leave them here after yesterday's ordeal or if it was enough of a scare and hassle for him to make other plans. In the mean time, we're going to pick up the new family van today. We're going to cancel our old insurance policy, add the new van to our auto policy, return library books, take garbage and recycling, help a friend move a dresser, buy groceries for vacation, etc. We're also going to sing the "Cows" song by Sandra Boynton... and maybe "Blue Moo" for good measure.

MOO-ving Day

The ground is still cracked and dry. My lawn still looks pitiful. But things are a bit greener after we got a little rain on Friday and some lower temperatures for the past few days. Hopefully that means some better eating for the cows. It's sure been better for us! The 80 degree temperatures feel downright balmy. I'm thankful that it made for a better moving day for some friends of ours. We helped them unload the moving truck on Saturday afternoon. 

Of course the question on everyone's mind when we returned was, "Where are the cows?" We have this strange compulsion to know where they are. I'm not sure if we're worried subconsciously about having them escape, or if we're concerned about damage they may do, or if we're just silly city-folk mildly freaked by the novelty of cattle in our back yard.

The kids are enjoying the calves. This little guy is only 2 weeks old. (His mama is the reddish brown cow in the back left of this picture.)

My husband mentioned the other day, that just like having a horse in a stall in the barn "felt right," seeing cows scattered in the upper field seemed fitting. Despite not wanting either type of animal for my own, I have to admit that he's right. This place was designed as a cattle ranch and transformed into a horse ranch. It's set up for these creatures and they fit right in here.

It's still a bit unnerving to look out of my kitchen window and see the scene on the right. But there are usually cows there. (That's where the septic tank drains, which means the grass is green there.)

It's also a bit odd to see this staring at you. This is the bull named Ed. By all accounts he's mild mannered. I'm sure he is.... for a bull. But still.... he's a bull with a massive head, a thick neck, and a mildly intimidating stare.

Speaking of intimidating, I was sitting in the screened porch tonight with my husband. It was dark. At some point we realized that we were hearing the cows chewing in the distance. It was a strange tearing sound, accompanied by heavy breathing and exaggerated mastication. But multiplied by about 16 cows, it was a strange noise indeed. It was a bit ominous sounding even after we had discerned the cause. It grew louder as time went by until the musty, sweet smell of cows told us that they had ambled near the fence and were hunkering down for the night close by.

So you're probably sick of cow posts by now. But the alternative is my boring accounts of mechanical trouble with the mini-van, a broken trash compactor, scheduling the new mattress delivery, the selection of living room furniture (finally), the scrambling to prepare for a new year of home education, the failed attempts at teaching my youngest to use the toilet, my gripes as a miserable pregnant woman, etc. None of those would be any better. Believe me. 

Round 'Em Up

At 7:15 this morning I heard it- the "go-buggy." That's what our neighbor calls his little off-road vehicle. The cows were in motion. He was herding them over from across the road. I can't see the road or the front pasture from the house, but I could hear the commotion.

My husband was at the grocery store at that time. He had run out of his coffee fixins. He returned during the proceedings and offered to help, but was told he wasn't needed. 

Our neighbor was a bit apologetic and very appreciative. He explained that he had headed out to tend the cows while his wife made breakfast. They had agreed to bring them over at about 9 o'clock after their meal. But the cows were so hungry that they came running when they heard him approach, and he didn't have the heart to make them wait, so he went ahead and started the process of moving them, despite the fact that he had to interrupt his wife's cooking in order to recruit her help.  

By 7:45 a calf came streaking past the dining room window as we ate breakfast. It had broken free from the herd as they crossed the road. Our neighbor trailed it with his noisy cart. My husband sighed and headed out to help to round it up. And I thought to myself, "15 minutes. That didn't take long. And there has already been a cow in the back yard."

"I have no desire to raise cattle." my man told me when he came in. "That thing was covered in slobber... Cows are dirty, stinky, and big, even at 2 weeks old."

The poor, frightened calf had wedged himself between the fence and some rose briars in an attempt to hide. When my husband approached, the cow bolted, bucked, tore through the underbrush, and charged the fence, getting its head stuck. It proceeded to ball before extricating itself. Then it took off the way it had come, traversing my back yard yet again. (Breakfast was exciting this morning.) Soon my husband had joined our neighbor in his "go-buggy," and it passed the dining room window again too.

The blueberry pancake mess is cleared up now. The calf has been safely contained and reunited with its mother. And so begins the saga of pasturing the neighbor's livestock.

Here Come the Cows

“To country people Cows are mild,
And flee from any stick they throw;
But I’m a timid town bred child,
And all the cattle seem to know.” 
― T.S. Eliot

Well, my husband and I talked it over. The cows are coming, 15 head of them, and staying until October.

If we don't help our neighbor, he has to feed the cows his hay now and sell them all in the fall (and maybe has to sell his 2 horses too.) If we agree to let him pasture them in our hay fields and woods, he thinks he can sell all but 2 heifers and a bull calf this fall without touching his hay. Then he hopes he can use his hay to get those 3 head of cattle through the winter so as to start building a herd again next spring. He's also figured that he'll have enough to feed his horses until then too.

How could we turn him down? No kind-hearted person could, really. We'd be depriving him of his livelihood and his pets in order to avoid dealing with our worries and the unpleasantness and inconvenience the cattle will cause us. It's an act of charity. To do otherwise would be selfish.

So my husband is fixing the fence. Although we had no immediate need for it, it seems to make sense that he repairs the fence as he sees fit since it will remain after our neighbor needs it, even though our neighbor offered to fix it for us when approaching us about his need for pasturage.  besides, with the way they cut hay and the way they build and maintain their own fences, we can't see how he could really repair ours. Plus, if he's in dire financial straits, it wouldn't be helping him much to put a fencing burden on him.

We'll also charge our neighbor a nominal fee to lease the land. We don't want him to feel beholden, but we don't want to take advantage of a man on hard times either. We weren't counting on getting any money for leasing our land, so even a tiny sum is a bonus and helps him to maintain his dignity. Taking anything more, even the "fair" and going rate for land lease seems wrong.

As for the worry the cattle will cause, I already mentioned the dam and the risk of detrimental erosion in my last post. We'll have to see where the cows choose to drink. We may have to cordon off the front face of the dam at some point, but to start we won't. 

Then there's the water consumption issue. Our pond is down over 2 feet already. Each head of cattle consumes about 20 gallons of water a day. It won't take long at that rate to deplete it severely. As well, if it ever rains again, the runoff from the manure will up the nitrate content of the pond and make our fight with american pond weed even harder to win. 

Also there's the forage consumption issue. On a good grass pasture, you can put about 2 head of cattle per 5 acres. A lot of the roaming area is woods. And the hay is so stiff and dry and dormant that there's just not much to eat even in the grassy areas. I'm worried that the cattle may decimate the roots of the already damaged hay. They're heavy creatures who are starving, and the roots might not hold to the ground if the plants have been so dry for so long. We may end up having to figure out how to reseed the hay fields next spring. Ugh.

There's also the fact that the woods are only lined by old barbed wire strands. If the cattle get out and into the adjoining woods or the adjoining hay field that do not belong to us, I suppose we would be held accountable for any damages they cause. We'll be going over our insurance policy to make sure we'll be covered in a case like that.

Then there's the fact that the fence comes up about 15 or 20 feet from the house. The cows could be in our back yard practically. They probably will be, since the only green grass around is over the septic drain field.  My 3 year old will not be a fan. He's still terrified of the goats! And did I mention that there will be a bull in the mix too? Ed is his name. He's the nice one. I think they got rid of Psycho, who was by all accounts, aptly named.

Of course it also means no camping by the lake until they are sold. As well as having to traverse through cow pies and cattle to get to the boats, to go fishing, or to retrieve hay from the lower barn. It also means myriads of flies. And most horrifyingly to me, who is freaked out about ticks and the ten diseases they carry, is that the tick population will skyrocket. (I know a lady who got Lyme Disease near here a few years back, and last year an old gentleman died of Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever near here too!) 

I'm sure I'm forgetting some other things I've been fretting about, but you get the idea. This decision is worrisome and inconvenient, but don't get me wrong, it's worth it. I'm glad to know our neighbors see fit to ask favors when they are in need. After a year we've already gotten a reputation as decent, approachable folks, and that's something to be proud of. 

Drought Fallout

The drought has been catching up to folks and causing some hard times. My husband stopped to pick up a bag of goat feed on his way home from work tonight. (We supplement their foraging.) The cost had gone up $3 just from a month ago. It was several dollars higher than usual last time too. So feed costs are already starting to soar.

I read in a circular the other night that the local extension offices are warning farmers that the corn has to be tested for nitrate content before it can be baled and fed to cows. As it turns out, drought stressed corn is unusually high in nitrates. Too much nitrate content in a cow's feed can kill it. So some farmers can't even bale their dead corn for forage.

Just now my husband received a voice mail from our neighbor who raises beef cattle. He usually sells some in the fall, but has determined that he won't be able to afford hay for  his cows this winter. He's going to have to sell his entire herd this fall. 

His cows have over-grazed his land before selling time though. (He has 150 acres or something.) So in the meantime he wants to rent our hay fields and the adjoining woods for pasturage. This is despite the fact that the hay isn't worth cutting. It's dry and dormant and straw-like. He also knows we're missing a small section of fence and several gates. And he knows there are some weak spots in the old post and beam fencing too. But he still offered to pay us to lease the land, and to repair the fencing.

We know nothing about raising cattle and did a quickie search. We were shocked to learn just how much grass pasture a cow needs. You can only keep 2 cows on 5 acres. And they have to be removed from that 5 acres in the spring or they tear the new-growing grass from the ground by the roots and decimate the pasture. 

We also know from educating ourselves about dam maintenance last fall, that the previous cattle rancher damaged our dam by letting his cows climb up and down it. It eroded the front face of the dam. So we know that with the plants all dormant or dead this summer, we can't let the neighbor's cows traverse the front side of the dam or we risk major erosion problems and the dam's integrity. It's a large dam and would take a lot of fencing to cordon off.

My husband's over talking to our unfortunate neighbor right now in order to get details like: how many head of cattle he wants to run on our land, what he means date-wise by "sell them this fall," how much he is willing to pay to lease the land, if we'll need to cover his animals on our insurance policy, etc. etc. We'll have a tough decision to make soon. We'd hate to destroy the roots of our overstressed hay and have to reseed in the spring. We don't want to compromise the dam. We don't really have hay to give him, as we've promised it to another neighbor who is a horse owner. There's more fence repair necessary than he probably imagines. He probably won't just take cash for feed costs (and he must need an astronomical sum anyhow, considering that fence repair land leasing is cheaper than buying feed.) But we really want to help a neighbor in need. And so on and so forth. And thus begins the drought fallout.