Farm watch weekend

On the good news end of things at the farm, the tractor was back up and running last Tuesday, which meant no more hauling small bales and that G's cows could move back out where they belong, ending the livestock juggling act he'd been doing to make sure everything had access to feed and water. The ponies are very content with their new bale.

We fed critters for friends this weekend. Cows, horses, dog, cats. It's a much more pleasant task in the summer, although I don't mind doing it at any season.

But winter means bale-moving. And Friday night dealing with the often tractor turned what should have taken 45 minutes into a three hour marathon.

The entertainment started Friday a.m. at O-dark:thirty when, after we finally got it to crank, the power steering was frozen up. Since we needed it to actually TURN, that didn't bode well. At well below zero and still dark, I lobbied for trying again in the afternoon - the cows were okay, plenty of water and enough bale remains to scavenge for the day. And the weatherman said it we were going to have a heatwave - relatively speaking - nearly 20'.

At 4 p.m. and 17', the power-steering was cooperative, but it was too soon to celebrate. Unfortunately, the hydraulics weren't. No three-bar lift, no claw. Nothing doing. We let it run to see if maybe warming it up would help. Finally, after two hours in the cold monkeying with one thing after another - we could hear the pump trying - it finally whined slowly into action. Sluggish, but a start - the diagnosis? Low on hydraulic fluid, although it wasn't showing as low. Probably some water in the lines somewhere, but at least it was working.

Of course, by that time it was dark. The tractor doesn't have lights, and the bales are 1/2 mile down the road aligned along the fence in the hay field. The drive to which is completely drifted in.

I gave T my headlamp and waited by the cattle pasture gate with the big Maglite stuck in my sleeve and my hands buried under my arms, hopping up and down periodically to keep warm. At least the moon was nice and bright.

Looking down the hill I could see the shadow of the tractor, tiny light atop it blinking in and out of view as T checked for tracks to follow. Turning off the road... coming to a sudden stop, engine revving, and then a lovely streamer of sparks heading skyward. Ummm... bad word, bad word, did the engine just blow? No, I can still hear it running, say a prayer or two and cross my fingers, hop up and down some more... Hooray! It seems to be moving again.... Half an hour later he chugged back up the hill with a bale on both ends, trailed by a line of cows along the fence. The ladies were hungry!

They barely let us get a bale dropped and the strings cut before they were attacking it.

The horses were just as eager to dig into their new bale the next morning.

It being daylight (and slightly warmer), it was a lot easier to navigate.

Don't fear the tractor...

A new bale for the cows...

Standing up the hill by the gate as T started the tractor I could see the black cow-dots popping up over the hill at the first sputter of the engine - by the time we headed down to deposit the first bale they were all collected at the gate waiting.

And the horses

Don't guess fear of the tractor was a problem -
more like don't get run over
by the tractor!

I thought for a minute Eyore,
having escaped flattening-by-tractor
by the fuzz on his hairy little ears,
was going to get his head stuck underthe bale.

Finally, for your,

"Oh man, what a thing to do
to a poor defenseless horse!"
moment of the day.

Thunder - so not an enthusiastic Mizzou fan.

Contented, Cute, and a Mabel in the box

Today was chilly, but quite lovely otherwise. After lots of errands, I collected T at work and we headed for the farm so he could get a new bale moved in. Afternoons are naptime in the farmyard, so everything was pretty quiet. The horses were contentedly munching away, post-bale moving...and small heaps of sun-tired lambs were collapsed in their tracks in random locations elsewhere.

Everything's better with a daily dose of cute :-)

This one was obviously a supplemented-by-bottle lamb, because it kept attaching itself to T's pant leg.

Kitty cat was NOT thrilled
about sharing his new-found person.

And if that isn't enough cute for you, guess who decided that empty laundry hampers are perfect hiding spots.

Mabel

Like an ostrich with its head in the sand, she seems to think we can't see her when she's in one, and will spend inordinate amounts of time lying in wait for poor Snowball - who knows perfectly well where she is, and avoids passing directly past her. Silly cats!

(No, we don't ordinarily keep laundry hampers - even empty ones - in the living room, but in this case, it's just plain entertaining! LOL!)

How to get a round bale moved*...

When I first moved to South Dakota almost 11 years ago I was newly out of grad school and looking forward to living somewhere for longer than 2 years. I wanted a place of my own and a horse, a barn, a couple of cats to chase mice, and a dog or so for company and feet warming.

Nine years later
I'd accomplished...

the horse part.

Sunny has always lived on the farm where he was born. I initially bought Sunny from J with the expectation of paying pasture rent until I found a place, but one thing led to another. I ended up earning his keep at the farm with vaccinations, worming, halter-training lessons for the babies, fence fixing, and various other horse chores.

J loves her horses - but she'd be the first to admit that she's more comfortable looking at them than looking after them. She's still working on the confidence it takes to handle them through the mundane stuff, but she's getting there.

Summers, the horses have good pasture and don't require daily feeding. In the winter, feeding duty has always fallen to J's husband. G handles the farmer duties on the farm. But his interests are more with cloven-hooved critters that go "BAaaaaaa" and "Mooo."

G's take on equines: Horses eat grass that sheep and cows could eat. They require different fences, different hay, you can't eat them, and they're demanding (hoof-trimming, vaccinations, worming, halter training, weaning, good grief!). They also don't sell very well when you want fewer of them.

But in spite of his preference for more marketable livestock, G's generally been a good sport about the additional work the horses require. He's always moved bales and dumped grain into feeders as necessary, leaving the remainder of the horse-related activities to J and me.

I'm ashamed to say,
I don't know how to run the tractor.
(But I fully intend to learn
When we find our own place
and there's one to be run.)

The big round bales have, therefore, always been hostage to G and his schedule. I can grain, but in the winter, horses need hay. Lots of hay. And they haven't always had it quite as promptly as a (fussy horse) person would like.

Nine years ago I met my now-husband. T grew up on a farm in Kansas, doesn't mind dirt and getting dirty. He knows how to put up a (horse) fence.

And not only can he operate a tractor, he likes to.

T didn't have horses growing up, but his friends did. He even rides. After he'd been out to the farm a few times, J, who also liked him, decided she'd help me keep him around.

She gave him a horse.
Don't you just love it
when your friends look out for you?

Of course there were a few strings attached to the deal. But since he was already acquiring one horse-loving woman (and her horse) marrying me, I've at least provided him with tractor-access to go along with his one-horse-power ride.

And now,
I can get those round bales moved
when & where I need them.
Although sometimes, it does
require a little bribery.

[*Regarding the title: How to get a round bale moved - I didn't say it was the BEST way to get a round bale moved, now did I?]