tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21581616841609808132024-02-19T09:44:58.659-07:00Wide Open SpacesMy blog is about my experiences living in rural Montana.
As a city girl, I'm constantly fascinated by country life.teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.comBlogger47125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-57348602126191215472011-05-30T18:53:00.001-06:002011-05-30T18:55:26.289-06:00Baby Girl<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxY0PCSYk3xfpBSnHarDiYlHHU0P5JLyQFELm4ur5aLXr5I9LQDlHUr-QfizQe_y7v__TyyXq_jCHDTCKWsvZ5F_p9yH37HMa-lUUy1LMmh4ToToBBGuZ1ujz-GmISuobUtGZY7v1yyTY/s1600/IMG_20110502_201247.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxY0PCSYk3xfpBSnHarDiYlHHU0P5JLyQFELm4ur5aLXr5I9LQDlHUr-QfizQe_y7v__TyyXq_jCHDTCKWsvZ5F_p9yH37HMa-lUUy1LMmh4ToToBBGuZ1ujz-GmISuobUtGZY7v1yyTY/s320/IMG_20110502_201247.jpg" style="clear: both; float: left; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 0px;" /></a>Here's a somewhat recent photo of Harriet. She's a bit taller now, but her ears still look about as big!<br />
<div style="clear: both; text-align: LEFT;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img align="middle" alt="Posted by Picasa" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" style="-moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; border: 0px none; padding: 0px;" /></a></div>teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-4035658130899822582011-05-30T18:48:00.000-06:002011-05-30T18:48:51.589-06:00I'm Now the Proud Owner . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For my birthday in April, I received a really amazing gift from my dad: the ownership of the family brand. My Grandpa Hall originally applied for the ownership rights in the early 1960s, and it has belonged to my dad's company since then. It is H Hanging 4 and looks like this:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie1rGb8AbgH0sCJtA7C4iMeeG-3g8osoPvOrSsL8ASrzNI7aYTqdvXBINDHgJmBU8JeUOeKKHnLLZXAvmntR7ojJCmNgHnSGeyqDXnR9Szg_HzkfoOuE6D1GnPib7e7tGTnZNQK0gzlI4/s1600/Brand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie1rGb8AbgH0sCJtA7C4iMeeG-3g8osoPvOrSsL8ASrzNI7aYTqdvXBINDHgJmBU8JeUOeKKHnLLZXAvmntR7ojJCmNgHnSGeyqDXnR9Szg_HzkfoOuE6D1GnPib7e7tGTnZNQK0gzlI4/s1600/Brand.jpg" /></a></div>Montana and New Mexico are the only states that still require a hot iron brand and that do not accept "freeze brands." For example, in order to borrow money to buy cattle, the cattle must have a brand that has been "burned red hot so the scar will peel" (according to my brand paperwork from the state). Similarly, "before change of ownership or removal from county," a critter must have been hot iron branded. Now, that said, the practice is somewhat controversial, and the MT Department of Livestock has actually been discussing the possibility of accepting freeze brands. While hot iron brands literally burn the flesh and cause a permanent scar, freeze branding affects the development of pigment in the shafts of hair by killing the color follicle. As a result, the branded area grows white hair instead of dark hair. To apply a freeze brand, the animal's hair must be shaved and the iron must be brought to an exceptionally cold temperature with either liquid nitrogen or an alcohol/dry ice combination before it is applied to the skin. There are even a number of benefits to freeze brands -- the process does not destroy the animal's hide, a freeze brand is far more visible on dark-haired animals than a hot iron brand, and calves that are freeze branded gain weight better because they experience less trauma. In fact, some expensive race horses are even been freeze branded.<br />
<br />
Here are some photos for comparison:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5d3qkIrke8Le9_Us_bnJrGL0M9FKmwyTIM2SjNEsTU7itV-6ki3Fx8H9AiHmnuhHOI6TYapp3IqAFMhmNELth1Vq0ffyX2_x7YzcOY4uUQddr6s5ydXkH7NsxEGbn105vDEhR_AWhHvU/s1600/brand-cattle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5d3qkIrke8Le9_Us_bnJrGL0M9FKmwyTIM2SjNEsTU7itV-6ki3Fx8H9AiHmnuhHOI6TYapp3IqAFMhmNELth1Vq0ffyX2_x7YzcOY4uUQddr6s5ydXkH7NsxEGbn105vDEhR_AWhHvU/s200/brand-cattle.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A freshly applied hot iron brand</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD_m6oV1iH_GZFEx10U5QKro5uKu6QYb-0sBPG71ihzzDIuXfu6kdufWk7eDA01g7Mryuc48XVfio-LuZ1Y3BzcslWZhQNUf_Xp5Z5XthmKwSf61AZAQYB2Y1RUGwElueL2msKU0REaTU/s1600/freeze+brand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD_m6oV1iH_GZFEx10U5QKro5uKu6QYb-0sBPG71ihzzDIuXfu6kdufWk7eDA01g7Mryuc48XVfio-LuZ1Y3BzcslWZhQNUf_Xp5Z5XthmKwSf61AZAQYB2Y1RUGwElueL2msKU0REaTU/s200/freeze+brand.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A freshly applied freeze brand<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBuW06T04C-kH9-e-m0c2ZM4c2zLpTMT_AUW4RTa02146rI8bds2uPTSqu3Fnv7u9_wD8gxqtYmKTAzqUQr8p-tetQBJL_V0HNwPbF0jc6-gbhF14JN_zrOHhW7HeVLCvXiEaGKHPsj7Q/s1600/W818+Freeze+Brand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBuW06T04C-kH9-e-m0c2ZM4c2zLpTMT_AUW4RTa02146rI8bds2uPTSqu3Fnv7u9_wD8gxqtYmKTAzqUQr8p-tetQBJL_V0HNwPbF0jc6-gbhF14JN_zrOHhW7HeVLCvXiEaGKHPsj7Q/s200/W818+Freeze+Brand.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">An older freeze brand with the hair grown back in</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Therefore, I am hoping to freeze brand Harriet and probably even Daisy. I won't be able to sell or move them elsewhere, but then again I don't plan to. And there's something kind of fulfilling about "trademarking" one's cattle. It also serves a similar function to putting a tag on a dog's collar -- if a critter were ever to get out, the likelihood of getting it back is a higher.<br />
<br />
So when the time comes, I will share more about the process and pass along some photos. I'm also planning to post some updated photos of Harriet -- she's growing so quickly!teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-76823544390540230642011-04-13T17:51:00.000-06:002011-04-13T17:51:22.609-06:00PicturesNow that she's more than a day old, here are some pictures of Harriet. She has a healthy appetite, and Daisy has a healthy supply of milk. Both seem very comfortable around John, Sydney (the dog), and I.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCQirN6QNCpcvTujFVce8knT7mMdJYMlBmZ9vkEoWJysybKGbCD0iMJw8vtUMaziQ7x0nVyEAnJou37aNT2YB_Iw_tgcrHk9PNTbSVaWBmeCl6EjVC7L8Wec-KIx0YBFumSCIGaK1Grm8/s1600/DSC03210.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCQirN6QNCpcvTujFVce8knT7mMdJYMlBmZ9vkEoWJysybKGbCD0iMJw8vtUMaziQ7x0nVyEAnJou37aNT2YB_Iw_tgcrHk9PNTbSVaWBmeCl6EjVC7L8Wec-KIx0YBFumSCIGaK1Grm8/s320/DSC03210.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJskjI1CHhTtK0Vt-prm6MlU5raf11hJtA3Xblgl1yFMfJZtuBz6gObomuE0JnFPYUnhRRNzAwtCKtG_QDN281rN1HSxI5MR5Q2tYSvuQPNxNWKs0C2drbqNf5BXt1LV1NORMKvjeRD7A/s1600/DSC03185.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJskjI1CHhTtK0Vt-prm6MlU5raf11hJtA3Xblgl1yFMfJZtuBz6gObomuE0JnFPYUnhRRNzAwtCKtG_QDN281rN1HSxI5MR5Q2tYSvuQPNxNWKs0C2drbqNf5BXt1LV1NORMKvjeRD7A/s320/DSC03185.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJpwX__-zHA6ITeYbPXJtke6adYd_KoSzMewztCtwoNTQoXuCbpMHyCOP4YP5xFeGhCUZX2MeqGSftgtIEN29d_dP-o4CocjurD1H9YWn1zwNB873nwtC2MUHGH8nKJR3dmdBTO9T49I/s1600/DSC03216.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJpwX__-zHA6ITeYbPXJtke6adYd_KoSzMewztCtwoNTQoXuCbpMHyCOP4YP5xFeGhCUZX2MeqGSftgtIEN29d_dP-o4CocjurD1H9YWn1zwNB873nwtC2MUHGH8nKJR3dmdBTO9T49I/s320/DSC03216.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7nZ_p0839bD_DDPtQtW-DRDkvWPPe2gAKZTThyphenhyphene0ntZqH6K3i_0wgU1bXJp0rfj63JjtbkkU49vzK7BTDEpsAX-U6HgT_a5zUP-gQHA9idcN6AJsEp8C5pQ400zVh7WyQOdFC7UZ7N0A/s1600/DSC03240.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7nZ_p0839bD_DDPtQtW-DRDkvWPPe2gAKZTThyphenhyphene0ntZqH6K3i_0wgU1bXJp0rfj63JjtbkkU49vzK7BTDEpsAX-U6HgT_a5zUP-gQHA9idcN6AJsEp8C5pQ400zVh7WyQOdFC7UZ7N0A/s320/DSC03240.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-57032914165303332152011-04-13T06:36:00.000-06:002011-04-13T06:36:18.505-06:00Harriet's Birth<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;">John and I were there for nearly every stage of Harriet's birth, and John had the foresight to record it. Here's a shortened version, and if you've never seen the birth of a four-legged creature such as a calf or a foal, it's pretty amazing. That said, it's also exactly what you can expect it to be, so know that some people might consider it a bit graphic. My next few posts will include updated pictures (she's growing so quickly!) and another video of her first steps.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dw3l1nU5Ek5wu1Lj7ox-GxFUQePpC17d6wxB0SyKaqtzTPwSmMT0hzVs-RuhuT93rpwTYQQRFYSrHiLQ8QPHQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-37460136194920859262011-04-07T16:45:00.000-06:002011-04-07T16:45:12.725-06:00She's Here!Daisy delivered a perfect heifer calf this morning just a little bit before 8 a.m. I will write more later about the whole experience, but in the meantime, I want to post some pictures. Meet Harriet.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6BR13xcbOzsjOwj6wnwpet7kOqf18oiASiI8D9_gOjimxe7RbMiX0r2Xq2Xn1s6kozzdScHLoreFR2_lPqwbS2ExJ-6d_XiKiDOG7H7eNSvOi6yVxW6fAYVVf0JzeKScIEfkLVddYL4U/s1600/1302184062777.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6BR13xcbOzsjOwj6wnwpet7kOqf18oiASiI8D9_gOjimxe7RbMiX0r2Xq2Xn1s6kozzdScHLoreFR2_lPqwbS2ExJ-6d_XiKiDOG7H7eNSvOi6yVxW6fAYVVf0JzeKScIEfkLVddYL4U/s320/1302184062777.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxS0H9nJtK5Hkt3yYv2ua1kCSpxbX06LrhOqgXOyntrfKgDz3nhgLGHezlESJY-eQfUpm4B8r3n7XTfcnX8_dy0VoezT8M06ANZccjtPiUk762BsxDo4matkF5XOK3yI4uokaL53P3xcE/s1600/1302185339505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxS0H9nJtK5Hkt3yYv2ua1kCSpxbX06LrhOqgXOyntrfKgDz3nhgLGHezlESJY-eQfUpm4B8r3n7XTfcnX8_dy0VoezT8M06ANZccjtPiUk762BsxDo4matkF5XOK3yI4uokaL53P3xcE/s1600/1302185339505.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqj8SmOgaJRlx1XCObaEFKTWqZcPZGxMSyuiLYpolx36T4g46npQbDdt88bkXxx1Xq__BybUaTgtZ8dAPQivC-l0MP7uzd_f75_Nai_PaCSNZJ7Aj1X9Vy5PkKBpuhw-rJxe7_t2l4vFc/s1600/1302204579456.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqj8SmOgaJRlx1XCObaEFKTWqZcPZGxMSyuiLYpolx36T4g46npQbDdt88bkXxx1Xq__BybUaTgtZ8dAPQivC-l0MP7uzd_f75_Nai_PaCSNZJ7Aj1X9Vy5PkKBpuhw-rJxe7_t2l4vFc/s320/1302204579456.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSOW8LiqnxKQXxNicD5hFQUc0YhQDGsEDT2Rgszfjr3Ye-MzFrp4KGxiH0Td04QeYnvDvbHmN5Z1X5eh4p4eCrPdMbdOCN743vYkuWpUyNt6SUGXZXWg6vYduruvfXUZqLoRU702WNx08/s1600/Harriet+I.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSOW8LiqnxKQXxNicD5hFQUc0YhQDGsEDT2Rgszfjr3Ye-MzFrp4KGxiH0Td04QeYnvDvbHmN5Z1X5eh4p4eCrPdMbdOCN743vYkuWpUyNt6SUGXZXWg6vYduruvfXUZqLoRU702WNx08/s320/Harriet+I.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnAhHWVfteeD6DICUgB7R1vOtO20uWp9sTBgrA2hqTOwU0NTNokXCGSr-2lUr-S0bMOb4hqaZ-PZpReBOmX5Jo5CPs65RZ9h-GwRGzSfRkADf3nULXfWARFb6aotrB24hZi0CHYnSAZAM/s1600/Harriet+II.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnAhHWVfteeD6DICUgB7R1vOtO20uWp9sTBgrA2hqTOwU0NTNokXCGSr-2lUr-S0bMOb4hqaZ-PZpReBOmX5Jo5CPs65RZ9h-GwRGzSfRkADf3nULXfWARFb6aotrB24hZi0CHYnSAZAM/s320/Harriet+II.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhJvVJWn-r8c43cLUNdk68Glj4ZdYZjie2hTMBicViULq_GbNFaQn6rdESa_6CkxGLYiFDApA2nRtHjxAX2lnKvQnL9_c5VSyiwgml0ynNVdEIBGvNjJZGfJCYhBBg8xVOqYuRBU32ibE/s1600/Harriet+III.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhJvVJWn-r8c43cLUNdk68Glj4ZdYZjie2hTMBicViULq_GbNFaQn6rdESa_6CkxGLYiFDApA2nRtHjxAX2lnKvQnL9_c5VSyiwgml0ynNVdEIBGvNjJZGfJCYhBBg8xVOqYuRBU32ibE/s320/Harriet+III.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-47286498801035597952011-04-06T12:48:00.000-06:002011-04-06T12:48:47.144-06:00While We're WaitingThere's still nothing significant to report, except that a fellow teacher has made me a bit nervous. Her family raises show cattle, and they just had a heifer that went 18 days past her due date.<br />
<br />
Every day at school I'm asked a number of times by students and staff members whether I have a baby yet, which sometimes draws strange looks from passers by. I've even started joking about how I'll put in the school's daily announcements something to the effect of "Thanks for all of your support. My husband John and I are happy to report the arrival of our 80 pound black baby."<br />
<br />
Today's posting is the result of one of my students asking if I'd read the following article and explaining that he'd immediately thought of me when he read it. I have to admit, she's a girl after my own heart and I completely understand what she's talking about.<br />
<br />
Here's the link:<br />
<a href="http://billingsgazette.com/news/weird-news/article_87ad99b0-d373-56f8-b6cc-e7a3c11c7fe7.html?mode=story">Horse Dreams Dashed</a>teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-84004693992827494572011-04-03T21:19:00.000-06:002011-04-03T21:19:35.831-06:00Still WaitingI kept waiting over the weekend to be able to create the photo-filled new baby calf post. And waiting. And checking. And waiting to check. But alas, Daisy is deservedly taking her own sweet time.<br />
<br />
John reminds me that I shouldn't worry because there's nothing I can do about the situation -- at which point I try to explain that that is precisely the problem: if I could do something about it, I would, and then I wouldn't worry. If I can't do anything, then I have no choice but to worry. (I feel as though I've written about this in a post before, but perhaps that's merely because it's somewhat of a theme in my life.)<br />
<br />
So I will check again at 2 a.m. and before I go to school, and one of these days I'll have something to report. In the meantime, here's a really amazing website that will keep you busy watching babies of a different "feather."<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.ustream.tv/decoraheagles">http://www.ustream.tv/decoraheagles</a>teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-52477439836915612902011-03-26T21:22:00.000-06:002011-03-26T21:22:45.649-06:00Really Fun Daisy UpdateThe days are getting longer and the wait is getting shorter!<br />
<br />
As most of you know, John was in Iowa this past week. He had a great time, despite catching a cold and having to endure a bit of rainy gray spring weather. I'm just really glad that he got to spend time with his family, and if it weren't for my busy schedule, I'd have loved to go with him.<br />
<br />
Anyway . . . I've been a bit nervous about having him gone since Daisy is so close to her estimated due date, but we made it. Nevertheless, she gave me a bit of a scare a couple times this week. First, we had a very significant snow storm last Tuesday night, and Wednesday morning her udder had gone from little-girl-in-a-training-bra heifer udder to quite-the-young-woman, nearly-a-cow udder. I asked our neighbors to stop by and check her out for me, but Sheila assured me that we still had a ways to go. Then yesterday morning I saw what I thought might be the mucus plug, which would mean that calving is much more imminent. I moved her into a round pen that is visible from our kitchen window so that she would be easier to see just in case. Nothing had changed by the time I got home, so I turned her back out into the yard.<br />
<br />
It's now Saturday night, and while I cannot say when the baby will come OUT, I definitely know it is IN there. I've been trying to feel it for months, but I'd never been able to. This morning, however, I not only felt it moving, but I also <u>saw</u> it moving! It was so amazing! Any doubts that I had about whether she was actually pregnant have disappeared. So, here's a short video in which I think you'll be able to see it moving, too. What you'll want to watch is the spot below my hand when I rub her side. It will look as though a rather large welt appeals, and then a few moments later it seems to melt back into her side. It's clearest at about the 34 second mark. John thinks I'm crazy, and I'm pretty sure he thinks all of the movement is just Daisy breathing, but those of you who have felt a human baby moving in a pregnant woman's belly will know that it's pretty easy to tell the difference. (John also admitted that he's never had the opportunity to "pet" a pregnant cow this way.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwRgJdJLcWZhCTnz0zGhvM5fMqkg56ynBvvdDzhS2UkTjZLl2lIwQTCi6SMhjynL3L05B9bWoA5BRLTvFCF' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Stay tuned for more updates as this is sure to be an exciting week!</div>teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-18762921179846010222011-03-05T10:51:00.001-07:002011-03-05T15:51:12.332-07:00Daisy Update Part IIAccording to the bovine gestation table, Daisy's calving date is April 3. She seems to be progressing nicely, though I'm not sure I'm noticing a remarkable difference in her overall size. What I do notice, however, is that her udder is developing just the tiniest bit.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf-fsVn0DlYNlsfehyphenhyphenP5oG66uYdOz-cd9vhF7_DuWDFDBSP-8aGHWxfXgNVqXfN6j8vPg2wtw0_K58maL9AtMMXm2x-SZATfNe4fW1JMS_KSXyStrcTOzhevO7Dghxu8YNHiVHxuT3uCo/s1600/IMG_20110305_085814.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf-fsVn0DlYNlsfehyphenhyphenP5oG66uYdOz-cd9vhF7_DuWDFDBSP-8aGHWxfXgNVqXfN6j8vPg2wtw0_K58maL9AtMMXm2x-SZATfNe4fW1JMS_KSXyStrcTOzhevO7Dghxu8YNHiVHxuT3uCo/s320/IMG_20110305_085814.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Take a look at the pictures below, and see if you notice a difference in her size. The top picture is from about a month ago, and the bottom one is from Tuesday of last week (3/1).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiht7LcobC4VxjHHS4bWO9h0bMJPrTxMnCIrpjWItf20YF1VCvY3gxcttIIN7RpU2pUIajkI4Bpk6dwGhy_vfpJEEU-7n5S4JSYgv8dQacgUOFPHrKvEfJ-ujbTDcgXAl_tXeDErN9vy3Y/s1600/IMG_20110122_102802.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiht7LcobC4VxjHHS4bWO9h0bMJPrTxMnCIrpjWItf20YF1VCvY3gxcttIIN7RpU2pUIajkI4Bpk6dwGhy_vfpJEEU-7n5S4JSYgv8dQacgUOFPHrKvEfJ-ujbTDcgXAl_tXeDErN9vy3Y/s320/IMG_20110122_102802.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnu9fRL236kQlAZBS2Awzkch50fyiRR23uyYRZhQK4OllaRsJEzFWXL2Yz0M4T25Jpk9btiRwhEpZd191DPVb4K2kSKw5epUBVxwqZaAarBOnULTDU-mBes0ihV0yVg8l3os2molOVpE/s1600/IMG_20110301_163555.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnu9fRL236kQlAZBS2Awzkch50fyiRR23uyYRZhQK4OllaRsJEzFWXL2Yz0M4T25Jpk9btiRwhEpZd191DPVb4K2kSKw5epUBVxwqZaAarBOnULTDU-mBes0ihV0yVg8l3os2molOVpE/s320/IMG_20110301_163555.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The magical time is getting close! So I've developed a spreadsheet on which you can venture your guess at the date and the gender of her calf. Just a hint: heifer calves tend to be born a bit ahead of schedule; whereas, bull calves can come a bit later. So, click on the link below to see an updated calendar with everyone's guesses. Then, email me or comment with your own guess. If it ends up being a bull calf, I will let the winner name him. If it's a heifer calf, I will be naming her, but the winner will get the satisfaction of public recognition. </div><br />
<a href="https://spreadsheets.google.com/pub?hl=en&hl=en&key=0AoytM7QQ6UwKdFNJMjB1NFB6UGVHdi1BQkd2Q1BsWVE&single=true&gid=0&output=html">Daisy's Calving Calendar Pool</a>teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-84503739224627664962011-03-05T10:11:00.000-07:002011-03-05T10:11:29.697-07:00Daisy Update Part II have a fat heifer . . . John kind of teases her about it, but I then remind him that she has "extra energy stores" because she has been eating along with his calves all winter. If we didn't have calves to feed, we wouldn't be putting out extra feed. Regardless, she and I have started on a walking regimen because I'm hoping to get her in a little better shape by the time she calves. Almost every day this last week, I've walked her around the yard for 20 minutes.<br />
<br />
The realization that Daisy had packed on a few pounds hit me when I was researching what is called a body conditioning score, or BCS. Cattle are rated on a nine-point scale that helps determine their nutritional needs. Here is a quick tutorial to show you how it works:<br />
<br />
Skinnier cattle have very evident ribs, and skeletal features such as their backbones and pin bones are very obvious. One tutorial I watched online explained that if you can see their ribs, the cattle should score a 1-4. As soon as their ribs are not visible, they would score a 5-9. A score of 5-7 is the most ideal.<br />
<br />
This bull is fairly skinny. You can see his ribs, his backbone, AND what are called the transverse spinous processes, which fill the space just below his spine. Though I am not an expert (obviously), I would score this bull as a 2.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyo2dZznCsr5Z-IcIdF8IaxRlyVOvj6f1XhGz8hwLnbjGtC3y9xBY_j3XCvMkiAQSL05okXJDOeWiicFpIR9r-De-o7yNkva14k9jabdtbVWYlg9Muc9I_eV4wF1OQC1gNMk2DV0-Zpws/s1600/skinny.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyo2dZznCsr5Z-IcIdF8IaxRlyVOvj6f1XhGz8hwLnbjGtC3y9xBY_j3XCvMkiAQSL05okXJDOeWiicFpIR9r-De-o7yNkva14k9jabdtbVWYlg9Muc9I_eV4wF1OQC1gNMk2DV0-Zpws/s320/skinny.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> The one below seems about right to me. Her ribs are fully covered, but you can still the pointier bones on top of her hind end, which are the hooks. I'm guessing she's a least a 6 and maybe a 7.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwGJC5_dimB4B7SYOVCjki1EpzuuJw538WaxnV8GA9IROCBzsnszDcHKVlwE2FubsyrVmUICGWVZjXZnMMC61kMIWWX2ck5hQKZykuPbAMIjGujUkVSITB3tNfTL-cvNgGrbHnyS3jkF0/s1600/medium.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwGJC5_dimB4B7SYOVCjki1EpzuuJw538WaxnV8GA9IROCBzsnszDcHKVlwE2FubsyrVmUICGWVZjXZnMMC61kMIWWX2ck5hQKZykuPbAMIjGujUkVSITB3tNfTL-cvNgGrbHnyS3jkF0/s320/medium.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This cow is an example of Kobe beef (according to the details with the image), so I assume that explains her oddly small hind end and her very barrel-chested middle. Regardless, I think the picture clearly illustrates what an 8-9 would look like. There is no evidence of ribs and her whole front end is so large and blocky.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXRUaKiPZifaAEOK6T7ABuFF6MOh2LAxbt7yjK9SY6UXXhtInSP5ze9KAq57MZYtV0ZwMQhI7sOt39SgGQUC7JCMHofds4qq_HwwiJhv-FhkHTo0KkR7D31kIiE5UZQATxRWzn-oPJh3U/s1600/fat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXRUaKiPZifaAEOK6T7ABuFF6MOh2LAxbt7yjK9SY6UXXhtInSP5ze9KAq57MZYtV0ZwMQhI7sOt39SgGQUC7JCMHofds4qq_HwwiJhv-FhkHTo0KkR7D31kIiE5UZQATxRWzn-oPJh3U/s320/fat.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
So after a bit of debate between John and me, we agree that Daisy is at least a 7 if not an 8. We can't really try to slim her down diet-wise since losing weight that way would be unhealthy this late in her pregnancy; however, her size indicates that her calf could be bigger, which could cause difficulty during calving, or that she herself will be less motivated and energetic during calving. However, once she makes it through calving, all of that saved up energy will come in handy as she feeds her baby!teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-36379464822130569002011-02-12T17:46:00.000-07:002011-02-12T17:46:36.226-07:00And then there were nine . . .We lost a hen this week. I went to collect eggs one evening and found her dead on the floor of the coop. She had no obvious injuries and had been healthy. In fact, what I am most bothered by is that she was one of our healthier chickens and most prolific layers. Her Buff Orpington "sister," however, is a bit of a dud with her puny comb, wattle, and egg production levels. Why do bad things happen to good chickens?<br />
<br />
My chicken book explains that 5% of a flock will die every year, which does not include deaths as a result of predators. And as John explained, "chickens are birds," indicating that they are not particularly hardy creatures under the best of circumstances. I didn't really perform a thorough examination of her, especially since she was a bit stiff having lain on the drafty floor with subzero temperatures swirling around outside. However, my first guess is that she was trying to get back to the roosting part of the miniature barn we use for a coop, caught a foot, and broke her neck on the way down. She'd not been dead long, but if I'd found her right away a broken neck would have been obvious.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSs1V2HZ7HKT8P2e9F0ON6OO8uK0GhEEJKrqNhdvcGWt77DilsyCfmewVl_gkehKzByDZoiKB76sPxOnBcalw8GnzYRPaVqGxB4YLxOqHWsQ8zk2zeDcrpCCEht432zhRRGjOOthW4pE/s1600/IMG_20110207_180149+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSs1V2HZ7HKT8P2e9F0ON6OO8uK0GhEEJKrqNhdvcGWt77DilsyCfmewVl_gkehKzByDZoiKB76sPxOnBcalw8GnzYRPaVqGxB4YLxOqHWsQ8zk2zeDcrpCCEht432zhRRGjOOthW4pE/s320/IMG_20110207_180149+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>John will soon order chicks for the store, and one thought he's had is that we can raise them to egg-laying age and then sell them at a slightly greater profit. Perhaps I can talk him into letting us keep a few. If so, I will blog about the challenges involved with introducing new, younger birds into a flock.teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-83829137227256086472011-01-24T19:55:00.000-07:002011-01-24T19:55:18.048-07:00Doctoring CattleJohn and I worked our "herd" yesterday -- all four of them got shots, and we wormed them. In my next life I'd like to earn a degree in animal husbandry with an emphasis on diminishing the tissue damage caused by vaccinations, amongst other things. None of ours will suffer long-term effects, and I suppose it's not that different from the sore and stiff arms we get. The benefits, however, are numerous.<br />
<br />
The vaccine that all four received is a 7-Way vaccine against clostridial diseases, which are bacterial diseases spread through spores. (One common clostridial disease is botulism.) If critters become sick from a clostridial infection, they can go from seemingly healthy to deathly ill very quickly. Ironically, these diseases often affect the most well-fed, healthiest, and fastest-growing calves.<br />
<br />
All four were also wormed, which should protect them against a number of internal and external parasites. We've been needing to worm them for awhile, but I got a bit anxious about it when T3 (one of the heifers) had fairly large patches of hair loss. Here's a picture:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAX1-BPtCpnLjYMiLKDBbyX5rMFfOr2-GBWBcVs0T0YWxDcohXesgxjY7epKcA6UKFkhtC7vHzoMHR8J2Q2iNIxEDvfhnFs9KwA5Kxci6WFJaN9DQxVNYaUWU9ISEDpN4FBsZMW5JrLRg/s1600/IMG_20110122_093210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAX1-BPtCpnLjYMiLKDBbyX5rMFfOr2-GBWBcVs0T0YWxDcohXesgxjY7epKcA6UKFkhtC7vHzoMHR8J2Q2iNIxEDvfhnFs9KwA5Kxci6WFJaN9DQxVNYaUWU9ISEDpN4FBsZMW5JrLRg/s320/IMG_20110122_093210.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
In general cattle rub on everything and love to be scratched second only to being fed. I'm hoping some of the hair loss is just due to normal rubbing, and John assures me that it's nothing we need to be concerned about. (I'm still not convinced, and the fact that Sydney, the dog, was pulling off mouthfuls of T3's hair was enough to make me even more squeamish.)<br />
<br />
Finally, Daisy received a second injection: Scour Bos 9, which means that her calf will benefit from drinking milk that is rich in antibody-filled colostrum. Calf scours are a nasty diarrhea caused by various viral and bacterial infections.<br />
<br />
Because we have such a modest cattle operation, here are also some photos of how we managed them. We positioned panels so that we could squeeze the cattle into place to keep them still and safe. And I have to say that all four of them were troopers -- nobody overreacted or got fussy (me included), and though I think they have some sore hips and hind ends from the injections, they're better for the experience.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitFyRFSRs2QTn_A03NvE_x1Ma3GRRY8WeShgev0fd-9p-KSOieAvKRcb3pEOv2Af-svc1pCNXBf3B9486cYwMWyjvejqIDt0xRU0RHIXd7JfCxvkmqPdV9xt9LAPlABkgv5WL2CKQpmWs/s1600/IMG_20110123_103023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitFyRFSRs2QTn_A03NvE_x1Ma3GRRY8WeShgev0fd-9p-KSOieAvKRcb3pEOv2Af-svc1pCNXBf3B9486cYwMWyjvejqIDt0xRU0RHIXd7JfCxvkmqPdV9xt9LAPlABkgv5WL2CKQpmWs/s320/IMG_20110123_103023.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj331KIu-DG71BRMv_mVfjayb-6n-Bb25ENl1WH4M5AjBJuQxCCG3314WWcQLyR1So2941yZtT5J8N3MgavDeR3a50RvIAmzpSDWSPwY7oEfVcxvkRHLmxQzQ2-gLFncBN7vcTkMRldKeY/s1600/IMG_20110123_105051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj331KIu-DG71BRMv_mVfjayb-6n-Bb25ENl1WH4M5AjBJuQxCCG3314WWcQLyR1So2941yZtT5J8N3MgavDeR3a50RvIAmzpSDWSPwY7oEfVcxvkRHLmxQzQ2-gLFncBN7vcTkMRldKeY/s320/IMG_20110123_105051.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-56558553735772769782011-01-08T15:09:00.000-07:002011-01-08T15:09:06.515-07:00Daisy Mae UpdateDaisy has just over two and half months left until she's supposed to have her calf -- assuming everything goes okay. I know John would agree when I say that I'm a bit obsessed with how she's progressing. The not knowing is so much more challenging for me than the waiting even. John is certain she's still pregnant, but every little thing makes me panic that she's not. For example, one of the steer calves occasionally tries to mount her, which can be a sign of heat. Daisy doesn't tolerate it, though, so I try not to worry too much. (I did, however, read an old wives' tale today that says such behavior means Daisy will have a heifer calf -- or female -- because the extra progesterone that goes into making a heifer calf makes other cattle think Daisy's in heat. Should we place bets on how likely that is?)<br />
<br />
If there is a calf growing in there, it will increase the most in size over these last few months of the pregnancy. Therefore, I'll try to remember to take pictures of Daisy every few weeks and post them in case you're able to see the difference. <br />
<br />
We've had a fairly weather-filled winter, and it is amazing to see how much hair Daisy has put on since last summer. She does really well in the snow, and it has amazed me how many people ask whether she gets to go inside when the weather is cold. Alas, no. All she and the calves get is more food when it gets particularly cold, and they hunker down in the hay. Fresh snow does make for some cute pictures, though.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwo_nrufBm30LdgkPLAKYulKatSBVttrWJbScTzjUhFnSIAcXvRZt747JLVs26Xg_ZTkh96835x-9aLZ0W3LjsH2lfioCl5BiMOKo1xwsqL4utcBBNHNtc1lpLvn4UYmUyALrmiOV-u-A/s1600/IMG_20101230_090731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwo_nrufBm30LdgkPLAKYulKatSBVttrWJbScTzjUhFnSIAcXvRZt747JLVs26Xg_ZTkh96835x-9aLZ0W3LjsH2lfioCl5BiMOKo1xwsqL4utcBBNHNtc1lpLvn4UYmUyALrmiOV-u-A/s320/IMG_20101230_090731.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiREXU80j7auf3TpgQgFUyYEntIVxc2yhc0N2KRFw1CDkxtdVR21gEowTIYjuLdHG0DE34Z4h1-i58Oh5r-Z5BhKUXGUP46fDMC1yqpJpRmdMYb2XG1fcyq-ndbZet_Ual3pCMcBR_qKtM/s1600/IMG_20101230_091512.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiREXU80j7auf3TpgQgFUyYEntIVxc2yhc0N2KRFw1CDkxtdVR21gEowTIYjuLdHG0DE34Z4h1-i58Oh5r-Z5BhKUXGUP46fDMC1yqpJpRmdMYb2XG1fcyq-ndbZet_Ual3pCMcBR_qKtM/s320/IMG_20101230_091512.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-2528797342167238322011-01-08T14:51:00.000-07:002011-01-08T14:51:37.721-07:00Did I Ever Write About the Calves?Last fall, John purchased 6 red Angus calves that were too light to be shipped off to "the place" where calves go. He knew that he could put some weight on them and sell them for a small profit, and it's meant that Daisy has had some bovine buddies this winter. There were 4 steers and 2 heifers, and since then John has sold 3 of the steers. He won't have much trouble getting rid of the fourth steer, and I have to decide if I want to buy the heifers from him to add to my "herd." I'll let you know how that works out when the time comes. For now here are some pictures from over the last few months.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-25EXRPDly8MZLqnRM_6OKv2H3UAhAYBZjuYn_MSLhAjdjjxjnG-GryH-o-GMs0j5BsTdQ1LrDJRzp1OYOh7OeTMzfimH3RoFoQTrTEdQL8hNQ1AIhxt977kpBIyPeWJomXAFkluP3wY/s1600/DSC02812.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-25EXRPDly8MZLqnRM_6OKv2H3UAhAYBZjuYn_MSLhAjdjjxjnG-GryH-o-GMs0j5BsTdQ1LrDJRzp1OYOh7OeTMzfimH3RoFoQTrTEdQL8hNQ1AIhxt977kpBIyPeWJomXAFkluP3wY/s320/DSC02812.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyFKRvnvnbLztK0uJaIx9lmKDGgoMNegaHqKq0Nvy7QUHGtZfI5se5w5AaqWm57vosIpF_HUND8CH10WuoEmwgeKD2T7Ry5BX4LNYGWhVX41mE-ZDzSm47y-yn-6DIWFe_xWSD48CrQK0/s1600/IMG_20101024_104042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyFKRvnvnbLztK0uJaIx9lmKDGgoMNegaHqKq0Nvy7QUHGtZfI5se5w5AaqWm57vosIpF_HUND8CH10WuoEmwgeKD2T7Ry5BX4LNYGWhVX41mE-ZDzSm47y-yn-6DIWFe_xWSD48CrQK0/s320/IMG_20101024_104042.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtZwMb0eHuEmrzudKM8-PH_xHsp06Bo6MetQvHBnXUTdxy8iu9kgQPztx3E24aYnQi8HhcQ3zaM_qehxENVAu4aHZDkDansiA_eXxS1ISKFd0ntnqKND8re0PO6Oynho-WhKRvkiUgs8U/s1600/DSC02866.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtZwMb0eHuEmrzudKM8-PH_xHsp06Bo6MetQvHBnXUTdxy8iu9kgQPztx3E24aYnQi8HhcQ3zaM_qehxENVAu4aHZDkDansiA_eXxS1ISKFd0ntnqKND8re0PO6Oynho-WhKRvkiUgs8U/s320/DSC02866.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-8825286951310259072011-01-08T14:33:00.000-07:002011-01-08T14:33:01.842-07:00This Is What I Call ImageryWhile this blog posting won't be graphic, it will be a bit on the colorful, descriptive side. And if you start to get bored, skip to the best part at the very end.<br />
<br />
John and I went spent about five hours a month ago helping our friends work their cattle. They had recently purchased a couple dozen new cows that needed new ear tags and brands, and they planned to vaccinate, worm, and "preg check" their regular herd. John worked what's called the crowding alley, into which he ushered about five cows at a time before sending them through the chute. I stood along the squeeze chute at the other end (the cows' final destination) and sprayed wormer across their backs just before they were released back to freedom. <br />
<br />
There's a certain barbaric quality to working with large animals that I still don't quite accept though I'm increasingly aware of its occasional necessity. Before we even started working the cows, I spent a few minutes just observing the herd's two bulls. While they seemed to be playing with each other to some extent, the slightly bloody faces indicated that their antics weren't merely for fun. There's also something impressive about 1800 lb. creatures battling it out literally head to head in a contest of sheer strength.<br />
<br />
The day wasn't particularly cold or wet, but it was still December in Montana. There was plenty of snow on the ground, and the wind kept blowing at a steady clip. It was one of those days when you feel the blood rush to your cheeks and ears about 10 minutes after you head indoors following an extended period outside. We were all bundled up fairly well, and there are only so many winter clothes one can wear that a lot of fresh cow sh*t won't ruin.<br />
<br />
We didn't have particularly good luck with the first few cows through the chute. The metal bottom was entirely too slippery for a couple of them, and all we can do is hope that the stress of the experience doesn't prove to be too much for them or for their unborn calves. They both went down on their font forelegs and couldn't get the legs back under themselves. I have to admit that it was really tough for me to watch them struggle, and though I really feel there wasn't anything we could have done differently once they got hung up, it was still really hard to watch. I know ranchers have their own approaches to handling animals, but it really is in everyone's best interest to treat the animals as well as possible. Each cow is worth hundreds of dollars, and the potential value of the calves is nearly as much. An injured pregnant cow can easily cost the rancher over a thousand dollars in lost revenue and vet bills.<br />
<br />
After some adjustments, we were able to get the rest of the cows through without much trouble, but the best moment came when Travis, the county extension agent who was performing the preg checks, invited us (meaning me and the"other" kids who were there) to feel a calf that was in a particularly easy-to-access position.<br />
<br />
Most people preg check their cattle much earlier, on a similar schedule to when I took Daisy for her ultrasound. The developing calf needs to be a certain number of days along for an experienced person to detect its presence. I knew Daisy was pregnant because of an ultrasound, but a more rudimentary check is typically what most people have performed, and this simply means that the technician or vet examines the cow rectally in order to feel the fetus itself. This second method is what Travis was using to determine each cow's pregnancy status. <br />
<br />
I've been giving a lot of thought as to how I might describe that the experience felt like. Imagine filling a tall kitchen garbage can partially with warm water and then immersing a large garbage bag of similarly warm water into the garbage can. As a result, there would one "cavity" inside of another. Now, imagine putting on a shoulder-length examination glove and reaching down into the garbage can between the bag and the wall of the garbage can. Warm and a bit tight, right? If there were objects inside the bag along with the water, you'd be able to feel their sizes and shapes. That's the best I can come to describing what it feels like to preg check a cow and feel the head of the growing calf. The whole experience was pretty amazing!teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-47081817367131291382010-11-15T19:43:00.000-07:002010-11-15T19:43:24.729-07:00Magic Number 9For the first time since starting out as newly hatched chicks, all nine of our hens have laid eggs within a 24 hour period. John doesn't seem too excited, but I think it's quite an accomplishment for the girls. <br />
<br />
We probably average 6 or 7 eggs each day, and we've been giving them away to friends and family in the immediate area. We eat a respectable number as scrambled or fried eggs ourselves, but I also make custard about once a week. And last night we both discovered how tasty "egg cakes" are. (After John said he was hungering for some dessert, I found the Norwegian pancake recipe in a cookbook compiled by people who live in Roberts.)<br />
<br />
Here are two pictures. I particularly like the angles that show the spectrum of colors: the darker the chicken, the darker the egg. My favorite are the darkest brown -- they almost resemble a bronze Crayola Crayon, complete with a metallic shimmer. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK0n1ILCqbdc3gJ_BTH57968r366KaZJuORYaL2uKTWfAH9SrD5sZOzGM9pJmg85TUwch2T-kyPbUjUATiSXUHwAEAnePQ-M1jRss6Qi9KpyV9JUAL6BHZhRitaPF79AnX7vdAiJTKKCk/s1600/IMG_20101113_093604.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK0n1ILCqbdc3gJ_BTH57968r366KaZJuORYaL2uKTWfAH9SrD5sZOzGM9pJmg85TUwch2T-kyPbUjUATiSXUHwAEAnePQ-M1jRss6Qi9KpyV9JUAL6BHZhRitaPF79AnX7vdAiJTKKCk/s320/IMG_20101113_093604.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeNjyscmIE1cML79o_tlibaX28W9h1U5SlSaLS9vk1FjTPyVGGYrb5p0fRme0ZxyNolXmERWhrr7VNMDz1koQB9i1npCC7w2XqiwdiptJDR5L40XAS3QWxAQnNkcXEsOQue5St7hWhx8E/s1600/IMG_20101113_093705+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeNjyscmIE1cML79o_tlibaX28W9h1U5SlSaLS9vk1FjTPyVGGYrb5p0fRme0ZxyNolXmERWhrr7VNMDz1koQB9i1npCC7w2XqiwdiptJDR5L40XAS3QWxAQnNkcXEsOQue5St7hWhx8E/s320/IMG_20101113_093705+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I sometimes wonder how many meals I could eat in a row that consist of only egg-based dishes -- think of the money we could save! If you have any favorite egg recipes, please don't hesitate to send them our way.</div>teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-68416275995104423472010-10-24T20:05:00.000-06:002010-10-24T20:05:23.888-06:00Feeling a Bit More SettledI know just about every Honda for sale in Billings and the surrounding area, and John even found a few for us to look at on Craig's List -- one of which was very sporty, very reasonably priced despite its low miles, and <u>very</u> fun to drive. A combination of practicality and fun won out, however, and I am so glad to have made a decision and a purchase. (I think John is glad, too, because I've settled down emotionally quite a bit since finishing the deal yesterday.) Here it is -- my new-to-me Honda CR-V:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5DTg8ag70GcyL7fSsSPWDd2bNpfuknf7auT8MgOm5KP1zVMEfycN58kG5cleyldAX7yRLWTtQ9GvSrbJH6suf1MG6rfJT5fCL-BJqTdXAuXYcjhltAxi0b5aaTiozs4jG6r7DriGjrk4/s1600/crv.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5DTg8ag70GcyL7fSsSPWDd2bNpfuknf7auT8MgOm5KP1zVMEfycN58kG5cleyldAX7yRLWTtQ9GvSrbJH6suf1MG6rfJT5fCL-BJqTdXAuXYcjhltAxi0b5aaTiozs4jG6r7DriGjrk4/s320/crv.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
For the first time ever, I own a car with more than two doors, so I can give a ride to more than two people without anyone having to crawl into the back. :) Maybe even more important is that I'll be able to get out of the driveway when we have a decent snowstorm, and it has "real time" 4WD that it slips into when necessary. There's also a lot of room -- for a dog, bags of feed, school work, recycling, whatever. So in the end, it all worked out well, and I'm even getting a free hat out of the deal, which is a story that I'll have to pass along sometime when I take you for a drive through the countryside.teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-30191436373915197422010-10-18T21:24:00.000-06:002010-10-18T21:24:21.200-06:00My Car Has DiedFirst and foremost, I have to express completely and entirely that I am 100% okay. But on Friday morning I left home as usual and while going 70 mph collided with a deer one mile from our house. I never even saw him coming and had no time to react. In hindsight, I think this was for the best: I hadn't tensed up, and I never even tried to swerve, let alone slam on the brakes. The car handled it admirably, though it took the hit in the end, too.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8_u_lY1hXXnc1-SDDqocB9_6TARMOjDMxDphn3UV3r8TS8GlrYYKjfzkWYwNA7n-0I-8eweuq-DYdSmega0rrcHG7GC29Kc7dad-lCOE0wMDDyCPc4uBOVfBo_zJnWm1QrMpwgs-vz4E/s1600/car.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8_u_lY1hXXnc1-SDDqocB9_6TARMOjDMxDphn3UV3r8TS8GlrYYKjfzkWYwNA7n-0I-8eweuq-DYdSmega0rrcHG7GC29Kc7dad-lCOE0wMDDyCPc4uBOVfBo_zJnWm1QrMpwgs-vz4E/s400/car.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>I must admit that the loss of a car that I loved and the stress of trying to get life back to normal is a bit hard on me, though. John is being very patient . . . He tolerates all of my questions about what to consider when looking for a new(er) car and about how to handle the insurance company, and he reassures me that I could have done nothing different. Even more trying for him, I'm sure, is my attachment to an inanimate object. I have explained that I spent over an hour each day with that car -- that I'd driven it for 8 years -- that it has always been reliable and there for me. I'm not sure that he understands how I can attach human elements to something so mechanical, but he does listen to me as I try to explain. He even went with me to clean it out, which was actually pretty emotional.<br />
<br />
He was still home Friday morning when it happened, so even though my call was very alarming for him, he was there immediately afterwards. Someone had already stopped to help me (and we even knew him!), but John made sure the deer was dead and gave me a ride to school.<br />
<br />
I've been obsessing about finding a car. In the meantime, I'm driving a rental (that's why we have insurance, right?), but things won't feel much better until I've been able to move on. I know that it's a part of living out here -- this is the third deer I've hit in five years -- but I'm not prepared to get used to it by any means. And I do my best always to remember the advice John gave me not long after we met: a deer won't kill you, but if you swerve to miss it, your car <u>can</u> kill you.<br />
<br />
I'll keep you all posted as I go through the search, but it's another test for my patience. A good used Honda is hard to find.teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-11799861382009298972010-09-27T15:59:00.000-06:002010-09-27T15:59:42.477-06:00Patience<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">With a blog title like "Patience," you'll probably all think this is just a typical philosophy of life nugget. But it is really so much more exciting. I've always had a difficult time being patient with some things even though I "delay gratification," to the point of having an obsession, with other things. To illustrate the latter, here's an example from my very, very early childhood: when my Great Grandma Nellie Hall was still alive, she once sent me brownies. I was so excited about them and wanted very badly to relish every last bite, so I hid them in my closet and saved them knowing that they would taste even better following the anticipation that comes with waiting. The problem? I waited too long and when I finally went to eat them, they had molded.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">However, all-too-often, I want things NOW. I want to know now, to see now, to get now. The critters have taught me that I can be as impatient as I want, but that no matter how much emotional energy I put forth, I have no control over their biological clocks. I've been waiting for months for our hens to lay eggs, for example, and I check every day with the hope that they will have started. I knew it would be at least 16 weeks if not closer to 20. However, it's been over 20 and still nothing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When Daisy went to "summer camp," I knew that it would be weeks before we'd know that she'd been there long enough to get bred and we could bring her home. And then if she was pregnant, it would be months (as many as 9!) before she would calve. 9 months! And I kept asking John, "How long will it be until we KNOW if she's even bred so that I KNOW that I have more months to wait?!" </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One of those "waits" is over. On Saturday I got to take Daisy back to where she attended "summer camp" because the Lewises had hired the vet to come ultrasound their cows. Dana, John's employee, and I loaded up Daisy and Maddie in a trailer and led them through the chutes so that they, too, could have an ultrasound performed. While I was too busy watching when it was Daisy's turn, I did get a few photos when the vet was examining another cow. While the photos really aren't at all graphic, I will forewarn you that the details of the descriptions that accompany them might surprise you a bit.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikhB555SkFaaCZCjzCT0BlPG1iLYJmfVIUM-H1ar-02gFAyMcaaAFVqIEYi84krfEVtqnMQLuILCxcFPqMb3Z7LjjHnRcPvAZjk6YuFmexwUYjdAG5KFit1atHGriIdDArOBxHwKQtdf4/s1600/DSC02803.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikhB555SkFaaCZCjzCT0BlPG1iLYJmfVIUM-H1ar-02gFAyMcaaAFVqIEYi84krfEVtqnMQLuILCxcFPqMb3Z7LjjHnRcPvAZjk6YuFmexwUYjdAG5KFit1atHGriIdDArOBxHwKQtdf4/s320/DSC02803.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
The cows walked down a shoot, and just as they poked their head through this last one, Hal Lewis would pull on the rope that closes it down on them. It's not at all painful, and they don't even really react. I do feel a little badly, however, because they're in such a catch-22 situation; to get out, they have to move forward, but as soon as they move forward, they can't get out.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZrWVgwg-oIKsghB_gqrg7zqa3HK6Xv3Jy6r8FIHZkdevDjAaEDlFYbi9HJKyvHSQBy7rAdrM7_ayPkMmBkdRjICZJqHy_N1TCKc-BkrIYe_36Z1SEYLdzicnJbXjUtsFDQ9mPyv7rV7A/s1600/DSC02804.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZrWVgwg-oIKsghB_gqrg7zqa3HK6Xv3Jy6r8FIHZkdevDjAaEDlFYbi9HJKyvHSQBy7rAdrM7_ayPkMmBkdRjICZJqHy_N1TCKc-BkrIYe_36Z1SEYLdzicnJbXjUtsFDQ9mPyv7rV7A/s320/DSC02804.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The vet is wearing a full rubber/plastic outfit and a shoulder-length glove. She keeps a very large bottle of lubricant handy because she has to insert her arm along with the ultrasound "wand" (my word) into the cows' rectums. I'm sure it's not comfortable, but the cattle don't seem to be in any sort of pain.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm2nm0d_NhMsEyr2ZgKo73RsrOLEK_p0aKhc3qTIegq0Op4sl15b4goGFWjaf6W2Xk_sxKDiBytUFSLW_uUyBSB4_QEg7ry0tWaI9q5PBP4lBCgOBYos7M2IK0o5Wb1l3UAeyzpWXqV5c/s1600/DSC02802.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm2nm0d_NhMsEyr2ZgKo73RsrOLEK_p0aKhc3qTIegq0Op4sl15b4goGFWjaf6W2Xk_sxKDiBytUFSLW_uUyBSB4_QEg7ry0tWaI9q5PBP4lBCgOBYos7M2IK0o5Wb1l3UAeyzpWXqV5c/s320/DSC02802.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZrWVgwg-oIKsghB_gqrg7zqa3HK6Xv3Jy6r8FIHZkdevDjAaEDlFYbi9HJKyvHSQBy7rAdrM7_ayPkMmBkdRjICZJqHy_N1TCKc-BkrIYe_36Z1SEYLdzicnJbXjUtsFDQ9mPyv7rV7A/s1600/DSC02804.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>She moves the wand as necessary to get the best image possible of the fetus. And if the timing of the ultrasound is just right, she's even able to sex it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlWW5gnVUZjyJk5LUKaL4DIMl3weeABMP79sTe-lxJJo4UZLyazInryuPNo6Bj6H7F4ibPXy3fMVIiRDArD7aEYRSLATCfhscv_NZGe5DhrfhayV3tsGgnQCSVGrIy_JILlqxDc0r-EGc/s1600/DSC02805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlWW5gnVUZjyJk5LUKaL4DIMl3weeABMP79sTe-lxJJo4UZLyazInryuPNo6Bj6H7F4ibPXy3fMVIiRDArD7aEYRSLATCfhscv_NZGe5DhrfhayV3tsGgnQCSVGrIy_JILlqxDc0r-EGc/s320/DSC02805.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
You can see the ultrasound machine in the bottom, right corner of this photo, and the vet is looking at the screen while she works.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
And here's a series of ultrasound images that I found online to show you the various forms of bovine fetal development:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhktkzgy9xR637yFpEps5ic9VNN4xCj_OLsan7X7muoJbYHtpRtyOEFvaXQDkRWKskQOJG_D0C4dSBbIcEp4IIXlmu2Ev__b-7g1TIA2OcGjGx17HT0R7P_wIPJ4lRI687BvRrPQ5x58hI/s1600/bovine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhktkzgy9xR637yFpEps5ic9VNN4xCj_OLsan7X7muoJbYHtpRtyOEFvaXQDkRWKskQOJG_D0C4dSBbIcEp4IIXlmu2Ev__b-7g1TIA2OcGjGx17HT0R7P_wIPJ4lRI687BvRrPQ5x58hI/s320/bovine.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I'll be honest, with the exception of the "50 Day Pregnancy" photo, I see very little that resembles anything bovine or otherwise.<br />
<br />
<br />
When I looked at the screen while Daisy was being examined, the vet said, "See, right there. It's still small, but there it is. She's pregnant."<br />
<br />
---------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
Were you thinking I'd forget to say one way or the other? <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><img src="http://yellowicon.com/contact/thanks_emoticon.png" /></span><br />
----------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
Now that I know, I'll be able to wait a little bit more easily. 6 months and counting. 180 days. <br />
<br />
When the time comes, we'll be well into spring, and the anticipation is glorious!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-34942519208363044782010-09-27T06:42:00.000-06:002010-09-27T06:42:33.182-06:00Satisfying SundayThough we still had to put some time in for our "day jobs" today, John and I spent some quality time a week ago yesterday with the critters, too. We went together that morning to do chores and to hang out for a bit with Daisy and Maddy. The morning was gorgeous: a chilly, nearly-autumn morning with a floating fog. Would it be such a bad thing to spend one's days enjoying such simplicity?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMkZj0aBzbVLLG4SbbtTgK3mluKiukVTxiqtqRsUYRwVB3dOvOu2sv9et7PTnL_2szfoUt2Z11VyRQYPngGekzArCf8Q_b1uQzeFsshlz7e93yP2J2Rz0RVPYhR8Lcy7zgPGRycS_BLzQ/s1600/Daisy+and+I.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMkZj0aBzbVLLG4SbbtTgK3mluKiukVTxiqtqRsUYRwVB3dOvOu2sv9et7PTnL_2szfoUt2Z11VyRQYPngGekzArCf8Q_b1uQzeFsshlz7e93yP2J2Rz0RVPYhR8Lcy7zgPGRycS_BLzQ/s400/Daisy+and+I.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
We've not been mowing the grass for weeks -- since school started actually. Instead, we've decided to turn the responsibility over to Maddy and Daisy, especially since they had pretty much polished off all of the grass at "my place." At the start of the Labor Day weekend, John and I set up an non-electrified hot wire across the back quarter of his lawn with the hopes that the girls would fall for the ploy and stay put. My mom had come to stay with us Friday night, and when I went outside mid-evening Saturday to take her home, here were Maddy and Daisy in the driveway as though their escape were an everyday occurrence. I couldn't believe they'd had the chutzpa to test the wire, but there they were nonetheless. I ushered them back next door and shut up the fence between the yards figuring it wasn't worth trying to trick them. John and I didn't allow them next door again until the next weekend.<br />
<br />
This time, he set up the wire properly so it was fully electrified -- hot and ready for them. I don't remember where we were headed, but we went outside and there Daisy was back in the driveway. The only good news was that we quickly figured out that they hadn't been busting through the wire -- instead, Daisy had figured out that there was plenty of room for her to walk between John's garage and the fence between our properties. Did we feel silly! I wasn't sure what the solution would be, but John fixed up the gap and they've stayed put (knock on wood).<br />
<br />
The only terrible thing is that my rose bushes had finally started to bloom all at once, and apparently freedom for Daisy meant a tasty snack. Let's just say that I was guilty of uttering a few expletives when I saw the damage:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3w8XencfJjsGzH2vFfqrworJ4INBtM987ySP0I3Yw3bJpf2zoaROEnAzHb1Frdzu4NDi_-SVIpPIXE5b34cIx85EQ4EL9kTuRN8PxovvwoqAvWKWzz-vdYxKq84QRPBJ0nQ-Yvk_6OSI/s1600/DSC02784.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3w8XencfJjsGzH2vFfqrworJ4INBtM987ySP0I3Yw3bJpf2zoaROEnAzHb1Frdzu4NDi_-SVIpPIXE5b34cIx85EQ4EL9kTuRN8PxovvwoqAvWKWzz-vdYxKq84QRPBJ0nQ-Yvk_6OSI/s320/DSC02784.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Since then, we've given them a little more room by moving the wire in John's yard. If you look at the pictures below, you can see the line where the wire had previously been.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNuG_ARyHEOK6CIuWXxAd_z5ZbrYlUhXQshUhuTzg4Ee4PGN_KQkpcH7Dq68BaO9DTGv1pEwvEpPpQ_Ycku2t6sL8lbARlJbV_JEvkIWuPnQZ3iyKWyrUOyEe5Oo3meWv0Iiss4W18q5M/s1600/DSC02800.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNuG_ARyHEOK6CIuWXxAd_z5ZbrYlUhXQshUhuTzg4Ee4PGN_KQkpcH7Dq68BaO9DTGv1pEwvEpPpQ_Ycku2t6sL8lbARlJbV_JEvkIWuPnQZ3iyKWyrUOyEe5Oo3meWv0Iiss4W18q5M/s320/DSC02800.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinO6WYSMPilcCrOChAGxLTCDV6kkQs1CwGrdD9wmqUl7XIV7G97QIjlgHEBdxCsZVc7vsLlTbWaPIcU0vAvSb2CRJ-Q8WRMzT3vaAKESNQkHTOewVMW_IItoQVed6I40Pw5Igf6Rr-t2g/s1600/DSC02794.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinO6WYSMPilcCrOChAGxLTCDV6kkQs1CwGrdD9wmqUl7XIV7G97QIjlgHEBdxCsZVc7vsLlTbWaPIcU0vAvSb2CRJ-Q8WRMzT3vaAKESNQkHTOewVMW_IItoQVed6I40Pw5Igf6Rr-t2g/s320/DSC02794.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>They even provide fertilizer!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-89037037887553656262010-09-14T21:23:00.001-06:002010-09-14T21:26:31.883-06:00Just Some PicturesI've taken photos throughout the summer of what we've all been up to, so here are a few of them:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEvRQAMycNlzC-fZXWHKU7WDxKIqACpUTzBiypI_qo8W4-nnkYQNTt94hoHklpzE5Efgg-aYkBDQo4o6c30jWp6TxXyk2QtvFjXO6THNZ6OG-vx5Y0nlrzFTpU-AH6Ph5Czkz6ibbsV_E/s1600/DSC02684.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEvRQAMycNlzC-fZXWHKU7WDxKIqACpUTzBiypI_qo8W4-nnkYQNTt94hoHklpzE5Efgg-aYkBDQo4o6c30jWp6TxXyk2QtvFjXO6THNZ6OG-vx5Y0nlrzFTpU-AH6Ph5Czkz6ibbsV_E/s320/DSC02684.JPG" /></a></div>John with the chickens. (When he saw this picture he commented about how he was the cock of the walk.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkGFYdXim80N5pcqppDFozAwJ0qJXYOrE8BiXqvdYDjYX2ZaUWChw4z8k_CNtV1eDDRk0dmIwSjiXQhXyaimNXPs8wEIvfCJoZPSAzEQlMZuqvZXlBNpXuY3b4gKpJHa5aMyE4wURFgAg/s1600/DSC02689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkGFYdXim80N5pcqppDFozAwJ0qJXYOrE8BiXqvdYDjYX2ZaUWChw4z8k_CNtV1eDDRk0dmIwSjiXQhXyaimNXPs8wEIvfCJoZPSAzEQlMZuqvZXlBNpXuY3b4gKpJHa5aMyE4wURFgAg/s320/DSC02689.JPG" /></a></div>Sydney, the chickens, and I are doing fly duty. I spray Daisy with a stinky concoction that kills the flies; the chickens then eat them (which John says won't hurt the chickens); and Sydney soothes the pain by licking the spots where the heifers get bitten. She pays particular attention to their poor teats and either side of their tail heads, which seem to be vulnerable spots. The red heifer belongs to Dana, one of John's employees at the ranch supply store. Maddy has been at our place since sometime in early August, and she and Daisy get along well and have become somewhat attached. I'm guessing Maddy will head home soon, but it's been great to have her.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPxeysZ3l0hZggzHNuAvsVWl-5Gqg4JpnoZDgO4PNAUC354T4rMDjHpTIJpIGVKYadfPov2VZmO_b4_2oCjyxNyNnXSW9GQQ3QgUzSW6yTmzPuZVhDK7RuINPyjjtHeWjxPZ8MckI8zuE/s1600/DSC02715.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPxeysZ3l0hZggzHNuAvsVWl-5Gqg4JpnoZDgO4PNAUC354T4rMDjHpTIJpIGVKYadfPov2VZmO_b4_2oCjyxNyNnXSW9GQQ3QgUzSW6yTmzPuZVhDK7RuINPyjjtHeWjxPZ8MckI8zuE/s320/DSC02715.JPG" /></a></div>The Fence Company is working on a new project, now that they've finished with the wolves. John's been in the process of hauling materials up to the job site in the Pryors. Here is one of the four loads that he'll have run up the mountain once he's done.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9NdVfH-OPI9uZ6ja35YWAdYklGr0K643KGrsal2LrmWZ8memLHuSYIoF2USt5xXAzI_ffaP9ogADRmQkmPxtlKMnu8hOJx_63nMZfE_6En4t-rDvJJHDgx50ZcxG0aRn8AOg8g1vgxP0/s1600/DSC02705.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9NdVfH-OPI9uZ6ja35YWAdYklGr0K643KGrsal2LrmWZ8memLHuSYIoF2USt5xXAzI_ffaP9ogADRmQkmPxtlKMnu8hOJx_63nMZfE_6En4t-rDvJJHDgx50ZcxG0aRn8AOg8g1vgxP0/s320/DSC02705.JPG" /></a></div>And, finally, here is one of the spectacular views from the top of the Pryors. I'll create a longer post later on about this fencing job because it is another interesting one.<br />
<br />
We're also expecting a barrage of eggs from the hens any day as they are approaching the twenty-week-old mark. Apparently there are hens born at the same time that John's customers have reported are already laying. This is all so good for my inability to be patient!teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-70688939504754655482010-09-14T06:28:00.000-06:002010-09-14T06:28:20.209-06:00Exciting Website AddressI forgot to mention this new development in my last post. I have owned my own web address for a few years. Until recently, however, I'd not discovered a way to use it. And then it hit me! If you go to <a href="http://www.katecordes.com/">www.katecordes.com</a>, your browser will be redirected to my blog! <br />
<br />
I have to give a shout out to my friend Matthew Struck who was kind enough to set this up for me. He has an amazing website himself. Check it out at <a href="http://www.struckture.com/">www.struckture.com</a>. teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-90421773953927480562010-09-14T06:06:00.000-06:002010-09-14T06:06:40.361-06:00So long, Roosties!Though their plumage was gorgeous and I would have loved to see it grow out all the way, I'm not terribly sad the Rhode Island Red roosters have moved farther south. They are now living at the Ayre family's place, and I'm pretty certain that they'll be allowed to live a long, happy life. And what if they don't? I will have had nothing to do with their deaths, and I won't have to eat them. I was getting a little nervous whenever John talked about how we should use them to make chicken soup. My chicken butchering rules are that 1) I don't want to eat anything that we've raised, and 2) I don't want to set up any sort of chicken butchering operation at our place.<br />
<br />
So the Brahma rooster rules the roost, but I'm pretty sure he's still not at the top of the pecking order. I was never aware of how many idiomatic expressions we use that are related to chickens and their system of hierarchy. I have a much better understanding now of how a mother hen might act and what it means to be hen-pecked. And I am getting the sense that every chicken owner knows that look chickens give people when they are unhappy about something -- on the "backyard chicken" website that I've found, everyone talks about getting the stinkeye. <br />
<br />
I know it well already.teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-91260392389589220462010-08-12T08:48:00.000-06:002010-08-12T08:48:55.973-06:00Death to Flies!I really think one key to happiness is to recognize and even celebrate the best of any situation. For a few years I've been trying to come up with more reasons to appreciate winter because it is increasingly my least favorite time of year. I dislike it because of the cold, the lack of leaves on trees and color in the landscape, the short days, and the inconveniences of dealing with snow. So far, I've come to appreciate it because snow is beautiful when it's fresh and spring (my favorite time of year) could neither happen nor be as amazing without winter. The cold and the moisture cleanse everything so that life can begin anew (and additional cliched expressions). However, I have one more discovery to add to the list: cold means death to flies and mosquitoes, and my word do we have flies and mosquitoes!<br />
<br />
I'm sure there are millions of dollars spent every year on insect pest control in the United States. Equestrian enthusiasts especially know about controlling flies -- there are masks for horses, sprays for horses, even neck and foot bands to keep flies off of horses. People interact closely with horses, and we are very aware of the effects of flies on them. Horses are sacred in our society, and we shudder at the thought of eating horse meat.<br />
<br />
Cattle, on the other hand, spend most of their lives at a distance from people. We don't ride them (with the exception of a 4-H kid I know and, or course, bull riders), and we leave them to fend for themselves much more than we do horses. I know there are those who therefore think I'm silly for refusing to accept the inevitable fact that Daisy presents a feast for biting flies, but I couldn't stand it anymore. There is some sort of biting, blood-sucking bug that particularly likes her ears, and the biting flies (mostly what are called horn flies) feast on all of the most exposed, tender parts of her hide including her belly, on the soft skin in the areas akin to our groins and arm pits, and on her teats.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4QGiQ7Nw07kji8YWRM8C6ZjC64ZSbSy39XJfwoyp9XoYUGmynCHigxEtErbrBAEmznVlYZMNxoyAzKJVkXktlsKQPGFPQpAhsvvg3WEvUYipxVqwJwem7M8TbIBPQ7Oc-jJe-8yORtsI/s1600/flies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4QGiQ7Nw07kji8YWRM8C6ZjC64ZSbSy39XJfwoyp9XoYUGmynCHigxEtErbrBAEmznVlYZMNxoyAzKJVkXktlsKQPGFPQpAhsvvg3WEvUYipxVqwJwem7M8TbIBPQ7Oc-jJe-8yORtsI/s320/flies.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq3zxHmt2zk1z87RUg8wQpkjMDe-hDidqy49abksGs0-29_fxSAxLcqdX2g_XszQzEh3fdGjNP1WXUVF5JV3SlqMMjMMNOD5oTE_0pDLpr3t1JahFNVUi7fJ6vZJCDYav2pxImYMtCpUo/s1600/underbelly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq3zxHmt2zk1z87RUg8wQpkjMDe-hDidqy49abksGs0-29_fxSAxLcqdX2g_XszQzEh3fdGjNP1WXUVF5JV3SlqMMjMMNOD5oTE_0pDLpr3t1JahFNVUi7fJ6vZJCDYav2pxImYMtCpUo/s320/underbelly.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifUJ94fanOh6S4baekKu3B7lCRKXTKqWfGL4indD651nk88tksozKu2cDhQJ1f-Hb06PjFBh8ZGBmiXoqsgmrPuxk36L4imuGuIC5oAWzDCRtMOctb2oLj70S2mEO0FxPEECiABdsaz4c/s1600/teats.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifUJ94fanOh6S4baekKu3B7lCRKXTKqWfGL4indD651nk88tksozKu2cDhQJ1f-Hb06PjFBh8ZGBmiXoqsgmrPuxk36L4imuGuIC5oAWzDCRtMOctb2oLj70S2mEO0FxPEECiABdsaz4c/s320/teats.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I finally bought a bottle of fly spray for horses yesterday. It's fairly potent stuff, but I was assured that anything safe for horses is safe for cattle. The bottle warns not to apply any more than 2 oz. per application, so I sprayed the worst areas and then tried to spread it through her fur/coat with a brush. We'll see how long it lasts, but the stuff appears to be working!<br />
<br />
This year, I will have a reason to celebrate the first hard frost we get. In the meantime, I wonder . . . could the chickens be trained to sit on Daisy's back and munch on the flies for her? Similar to those birds who sit on the backs of rhinos?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFX_tV3LzKuwzzQ_Yq1QbJhpMl98EtMiFYg2VzOmlL5m0TvA07eyG-UHpNv0zhHmg_reZsBpjoljIbVVCuGlyRCCMbyzYy_lNT5jwHvtGdlFSMpJ1enkp1f7K2yYaA9osMljDVikDua-o/s1600/aban468l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFX_tV3LzKuwzzQ_Yq1QbJhpMl98EtMiFYg2VzOmlL5m0TvA07eyG-UHpNv0zhHmg_reZsBpjoljIbVVCuGlyRCCMbyzYy_lNT5jwHvtGdlFSMpJ1enkp1f7K2yYaA9osMljDVikDua-o/s320/aban468l.jpg" /></a></div>teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2158161684160980813.post-76236932358609118232010-08-10T22:08:00.000-06:002010-08-10T22:08:23.078-06:00Welcome home, Daisy Mae!On June 24, 2010 Daisy went off to the Rock Creek Red Angus "Summer Camp," owned and managed by Charlie and Linda Lewis, and she just got back today. While she was at camp, she met older cows and their calves as well as a few other heifers.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH2r5onlYLJVZg9Oq6crkX8vNn-cBhA413pVEi2FS2TGtb5AZ3k07mk1hjqTQ-wRLt2IbnpnK1CYZKVVIqyDc2tJv5Vuq260QpHC4IpsN2S4oxIJYI6vPV73lQR47rAzritn9N0l_TBCw/s1600/DSC02650.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH2r5onlYLJVZg9Oq6crkX8vNn-cBhA413pVEi2FS2TGtb5AZ3k07mk1hjqTQ-wRLt2IbnpnK1CYZKVVIqyDc2tJv5Vuq260QpHC4IpsN2S4oxIJYI6vPV73lQR47rAzritn9N0l_TBCw/s320/DSC02650.JPG" /></a></div><br />
She had 80 acres of space over which to roam, and she feasted on a variety of grasses. Though the focus of summer camp was not weight loss, she also slimmed down quite a bit since she had to walk much greater distances than at home and didn't get daily treats. But the <u>real</u> reason she attended summer camp was Bull 176. He's a native of Broadus, MT and just a yearling himself, and as far as we could tell, he and Daisy spent a fair amount of time together when she first arrived. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9Dl1TbZGNJ7p49aULncLJG_XSJPW2XHIQN5vGt3tIecibVGa4JuEXNYsl_ZQNDzVOn5m2agfQeHd_a_NkiyBYGNLRJGjGD0jvm2plErHwk0I2c_3sU73CLasfFfcRatJYhI_uduA2aI/s1600/DSC02648.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9Dl1TbZGNJ7p49aULncLJG_XSJPW2XHIQN5vGt3tIecibVGa4JuEXNYsl_ZQNDzVOn5m2agfQeHd_a_NkiyBYGNLRJGjGD0jvm2plErHwk0I2c_3sU73CLasfFfcRatJYhI_uduA2aI/s320/DSC02648.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
In other words, Daisy went to the Lewis place to get bred. We took her just as she was cycling and left her over the next two cycles with great hopes of her ending up pregnant. We know the bull was particularly interested in her when she first arrived, and he didn't seem to pay much attention to her during what would have been subsequent cycles. The cycles happen at 21 day intervals, and the gestation for cattle is 9 months, which means that if she "took" the first cycle at summer camp she should have a calf around the end of next March! I won't know anything for sure for a number of months, but I'm hoping I will at least be able to tell that she's no longer cycling (and therefore pregnant).<br />
<br />
I visited her at least once a week while she was gone and brushed and fed her while there. The first two times I visited, she followed me all the way back to the gate, but by my third visit she was very content to stay with her new friends when I left. Last week, though, she did come running when she saw me, and while I know she was really only interested in the treats I had brought, it still made me feel good.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxw58OE8YM74TrpCPejldNUSFhwnwaBCeGkLqQkalT9OEi67BulTdeGe3FdcPv-8AeuVSlayLAJp1MjdCJw2w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
She has grown a bit taller since she left, too. The following pictures aren't the best, especially since in the second one I was avoiding the dive-bombing mosquitoes, but at least you can see how she's changed.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf_dPgYnfvng8f9rBTXffXeLO80r6AvMsgf33sEfoJsX2xv6eRuiWQl4-3NhDqOEyu2r-7EmbelUaPHliDjcATq7rDIG2qCV4mURdc4HM2XGWMXeOPFDGT7-TchiQNg6rj0q-F1frmxp4/s1600/Daisy+Mae.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf_dPgYnfvng8f9rBTXffXeLO80r6AvMsgf33sEfoJsX2xv6eRuiWQl4-3NhDqOEyu2r-7EmbelUaPHliDjcATq7rDIG2qCV4mURdc4HM2XGWMXeOPFDGT7-TchiQNg6rj0q-F1frmxp4/s320/Daisy+Mae.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQCk1BuityKjFKyH5hJfVnhs8goBs2LJ-_unUsrSCc7EXURotDmms41R_zP2VNdQxkRuc9hmfqDRNU0Ly6fqh67z4iLdpm7NxMBAuGqgh38IMiBALAehVbKTmzUsV7ZLnpRpXx5RgL4Us/s1600/DSC02679.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQCk1BuityKjFKyH5hJfVnhs8goBs2LJ-_unUsrSCc7EXURotDmms41R_zP2VNdQxkRuc9hmfqDRNU0Ly6fqh67z4iLdpm7NxMBAuGqgh38IMiBALAehVbKTmzUsV7ZLnpRpXx5RgL4Us/s320/DSC02679.JPG" /></a></div><br />
I'm very happy to have her home, and I really did miss her. I'll keep you updated with any news.teach4lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00302354193178588621noreply@blogger.com0