Patience

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.

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.

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?!"  

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.






And here's a series of ultrasound images that I found online to show you the various forms of bovine fetal development:

I'll be honest, with the exception of the "50 Day Pregnancy" photo, I see very little that resembles anything bovine or otherwise.


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."

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 Were you thinking I'd forget to say one way or the other?  
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Now that I know, I'll be able to wait a little bit more easily.  6 months and counting.  180 days.

When the time comes, we'll be well into spring, and the anticipation is glorious!

Satisfying Sunday

Though 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?

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.

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).

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:

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.

They even provide fertilizer!

Just Some Pictures

I've taken photos throughout the summer of what we've all been up to, so here are a few of them:

John with the chickens.  (When he saw this picture he commented about how he was the cock of the walk.)

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.

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.

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.

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!

Exciting Website Address

I 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 www.katecordes.com, your browser will be redirected to my blog! 

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 www.struckture.com. 

So 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.

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. 

I know it well already.