Cow update

The cows are looking good as we pass the halfway mark of summer. Our pasture has held out better each year, and this year, Violet is still eating almost entirely pasture with just a little hay when she nurses the calves.

Nick and Nora are growing well, and we've decided to take Nora through the winter as a companion for Violet. We'll keep Nick probably until November or so depending on how cow management is going once the pasture does give out. Nora is very sweet, and we've decided to breed Violet back to Jersey again. We are wondering if the Jersey temperament is better than brown swiss.

 Nick is the one on the left. Steers grow faster than heifers. But compare them all to this:

Violet on Grass

Yesterday, I just couldn't stand it, and I gave Violet a very small section of grass. This is usual, actually, but the section was VERY small. I'm giving her a little at a time under the old apple trees. I want to graze her in the orchard ASAP, and she has to walk past this patch of grass to get to the orchard. If the grass there is ready to graze, she can be extremely difficult to move forward.

The hard part of surrendering now is the management difficulties. We are not ready to milk two times a day- not until ballet is over for summer- so we do not want to wean the calves. The calves are also still small enough that keeping them in electric fence will be trying at best. This means I let Violet graze a few hours, then move her back with the calves. Today, I put her with the calves long enough for them to nurse, then moved her back to grass. Tomorrow is a really crazy activity day, so she'll stay in the paddock with the calves all day. I figure she'll protest a lot, but it's worth it to actually have her on grass almost every day.

I read in another blog how some people dole grass out slowly when the grass isn't coming on strong. This is definitely our situation, so maybe this will be good for the pasture, too. I'll still cut her grass from the lawn or from around the trees so she has something green on the days I need to leave her in the paddock. Mostly, it was lovely to see her rumen looking filled up when I put her with the calves; that's good for all of us.

Banding the Calf

Perhaps you remember that when I banded Gusto, I did not manage to get his testicles. So, he was still a bull just minus his scrotum. This caused a few problems. He was not easy to manage, not that calves are supposed to be "easy", but he really got more threatening as he got bigger. He also broke lots of fence. When he got to the point that I felt uncomfortable asking the children to give the cows water, we knew it was time to kill him.

We wanted to be sure Nick was actually a steer at the end of the banding process. After asking around, one of our neighbors agreed to assist in the process. His only stipulations were that one of us had to do the actual banding so that we would feel sure of ourselves with the next bull calf and that we get a collar on Nick.

This week the calves are just shy of two months old, so we called our neighbor and Nick is banded. It was delightfully easy. First, Nick and Nora are the friendliest calves we have dealt with, so it was not that hard to get a collar on him. Second, Nick is much smaller than Gusto was. As our neighbor put it, "Violet is sucking two calves," so all three of them are lacking in condition. Third, our pen situation makes separating the calves pretty straightforward.

So, at chore time, we pushed both calves into the barn, but we only let Nick into the calf stall. Then, Jason got hold of Nick's collar and backed him into a corner and against a wall. Our neighbor had prepped the tool. The bander is kind of like the tools they use to put rubber bands on lobster claws; it uses very small bands but stretches them quite wide. So, when you squeeze the handles, it's relatively easy to slip the calf's scrotum into the band. Once this was done, our neighbor showed me how to check that both testicles were in the band. Then he showed how you pull the tool down from the belly just a bit so that there is a little more flesh when everything is healed. He was showing me all of this through a shower of calf diarrhea, as Nick was so upset by all this he completely covered my arms and hands in manure.

We let Nick go, let Nora into the calf stall, and got ourselves cleaned up. In awhile, the scrotum and testicles will fall off, and we'll have a steer.

The Cow and the Mower

I wrote here about how my mower and cow work together. It has been a good relationship. I have now found a new way for them to benefit each other.

It makes me CRAZY this time of year, and in late summer, to mow the lawn when Violet so desperately wants green grass. The grass around the house and gardens and orchard trees stays pretty green straight through the summer and grows taller faster. Also, I want it cut before it is actually the height we want the pasture grass, so it is cut pretty frequently.

I wondered late last summer what Violet would do if I offered her grass I bagged from the lawn mower. Then, this past week, the children and I have been using grass clippers to make Violet one or two baskets of grass a day from the various places the grass grows fastest. I've been thinking how nice it would be if Violet were the type of cow I could just stake in one place or another around the property. Today, I decided the lawn really did need cutting; I'd been avoiding it- not because I dislike the chore, but because it seems SO dumb to mow grass the cow would like so very much to graze. And I indulged in my little experiment.

I filled a wheel barrow with grass clippings, which was about two mower bags full. Then, I hauled the grass down to the cow. She's eating it, and so are the calves. Maybe it's not what she wants most, and maybe she won't eat all of it or she won't ever eat it again. But, at the moment, she's very happy for some green grass.

A Healthy Animal Will Not Starve Itself

At least this is what I believe. I have applied it to dogs and children and cows.

The problem when applying it to cows is that a cow spends an amazing amount of energy digesting and there is some number of "chews" a cow will make in a day. So, if she is eating rich food, her number of chews will result in a different condition from a cow eating lower quality food.

Violet is definitely eating with more interest since we are offering up an entire round bale for her to sort through and waste at her leisure, but she still is not looking all that great. This is our first year using wrapped bales, but the bales are from the same fellow we got hay from the year before. My guess is that the hay is fine, and my cow is just suffering from being the mother of twins at the end of winter.

People keep telling me that two weeks on grass is all she needs, but we're at least two, and more likely three or four, weeks from being able to graze. We're offering trace minerals, loose salt, and kelp, but I wonder if better hay would help her.

The real answer is to not have a calf in March again. November was fine, June was fine. Next time, I think we'll try for April or May; everyone will still be confined while the calf is very small, but it won't be so long before Violet can get back on grass.

Picture This

Greening pasture

That brown indicates shade, maybe keyline issues.

The cherry tree is coming to life.

Rhubarb looks like a disgusting brain when it's first opening.

Garlic!

Happy transplanted cabbage.

Unhappy onion, planted too early, crowded until transplant.

Happy onion, planted later, waiting for the soil to warm.

A row of peas :)

Hoop house with barley planted as a last minute cover crop.

Tidier garden fence

Row of gooseberries

Violet in poor condition, but well-confined.

Lilacs ever closer to bursting open.

While I Was Away

I have been much too busy outside, or trying to get outside, to do a blog post. I'll do one of just pictures next, but I have the energy this evening to report and no pictures.

First, we rebuilt the cow fence last weekend. Violet was pushing and pushing against the only post that did not have an offset wire, and the thawed, sandy soil pretty much gave up the post. We bought a panel gate, set a post and ran the offset wire around the entire paddock. (An offset wire is an electric wire that keeps cows off a fence.) We also put the bale of hay she had torn into inside the paddock, and miracle of miracles, she's eating it. It's the same hay she had only been picking at when it was doled out; I guess she just wanted the whole bale. Sure, there's waste, but I kind of don't care at the moment. We can use the wasted hay in the garden, and I am happy to deal with the waste if she will just eat.

I also set 7 posts around the big garden and got my poultry net looking tidier. I fence the garden instead of the chickens. It turns out poultry net does a better job keeping chickens out of an area than in an area, and the garden does not object to fencing in quite the way the chickens do. I do not like how the poultry net looks as garden fence, but it's easy to mow around, it's easy to put up, and it's the fence I already own.

The children and I figured out if we doubled up on reading and math, and do mostly oral follow ups, we could finish school by the end of the coming week. WOOHOO! Don't get me wrong- we like school, but we also like when we're done with school for the summer. Now is the time to be outside, not laboring around the kitchen table.

We also weeded and mulched about 95% of the big garden. This is the 60' X 60' garden that was new last spring and just kind of limped along all summer, as I never had quite enough time to get it settled. Surprisingly, my half-ass care kept the weeds back pretty well. The end farthest from the house had the most grass, but what mulching I had done even made this not too onerous to pull out. It has been somewhat tedious, but the garden looks fabulous and is ready for some plants. We'll finish weeding it and mulching it this week, in between ballet and library groups.

I distributed lime on all the pastures. That was heavy work. I used the tractor, but I still had to get all the lime into the spreader. I figure I moved a thousand pounds twice that day.

I got a couple of beds in the house garden ready, as well. I transplanted one tray of onions that was not looking so great. The soil was cold, but the onions were done being crowded. I can see that none of them look worse, and some are definitely showing new growth. The leeks and shallots are not objecting as strenuously to the cramped quarters and the tray of onions I planted almost two months later than the first trays looks fabulous. I'll start all my alliums later next year and I'll thin them.

Today, I transplanted the early cabbage. It was looking great, because the trays have been in the hoophouse the past week. The plants definitely like that surround sunlight better than what they get through the windows. Still, today was a leaf day, the soil was almost 50, and the cabbages were not going to be happy in the tray too much longer. Tomorrow is a fruit day, and I hope to plant peas in the garden and start the tomatillos.

I sprayed milk on all the pastures today. It was a few days later than I really wanted to, but I'm sure I'll still see a benefit. I only had 1.5 gallons to spare for all the pastures, but supposedly it doesn't take much. If we find ourselves with more milk later, I'll do it again. The optimum time is just when the grass is turning green, and boy has it done that this week. I swear you could sit and watch it happen without even being all that patient.

Ezra and I also planted 18 berries. One of my friends was placing a last minute order, and she suggested it might make more sense to buy more gooseberries and currants than to move them again. I was easily convinced, as I did not relish the idea of digging them up yet again. It turned out the bare-root bundles were twice the size we expected, so I got 10 gooseberries and 10 currants. I decided to put them in the big garden. I put a row of gooseberries at the top end of the garden, away from the drive, thinking that since they're perennials they might slow water down at the top of the hill. The currants I planted in the north end of each row thinking they might offer a windbreak. The last two currants Ezra is going to pot up as a present. I think the berries will make the garden look prettier year round.

Separating the Calves

Last weekend, we decided we would start separating the calves. The "calf stall" has been turned into a brooder coop, but it can still work to hold calves who are pretty small. The convenience of separating the calves beckoned with each milking. First, it means fewer bodies moving around during milking and no one trying to nurse while I'm milking. We also switched to milking once a day, and that is what ultimately led to our locking the calves up overnight.

What happened is that we went from getting 3/4 of a gallon per milking to a quart or less. This is fine. It means the calves were able to take all the milk that Violet makes. The bargain between us and the cows is that we take some of that milk, even if they COULD drink it all. In a dairy, my understanding is that calves get about 1.5 gallons a day. When we weaned Gusto last year, we were getting 4 gallons a day, so I feel pretty comfortable taking more than a quart of milk. A quart of milk feels like a waste of time.

We're getting calmer each time we're faced with this challenging cow situations, and I feel pleased with how easily we've gotten everyone in the routine of being separated. Around 7:00 pm, we go down and gently cut the calves from Violet, pushing her away from the shed and trapping them in the shed. Then, we open the stall, guide them in, lock the door, and let Violet into the shed. It's been remarkably easy. I'm wondering if the calves are cooperating more because there are two of them, but no one has seemed as stressed by the separation as the previous calves have been. In the morning, we do our milking chores, and I do not at all strip Violet's udder, leaving milk for the calves. When I'm done milking, we let the calves out of the stall and they spend the day with their mother, munching hay and nursing.

My only concern is everyone's condition. The calves look skinnier to me than our other two calves, but they are 3/4 Jersey, and the other two were 1/2 Brown Swiss. Also, they started out smaller. They look plenty vigorous and are obviously growing, so I'm not worried about them, just aware. Violet is looking less full-bodied than usual, but still rounder than other Jerseys I've met. It's kind of hard, because dairy cows ARE actually bony-hipped and such. I'm staying attuned to her condition. At the moment, she looks much better than she did the first week after the calves were born, but her hips look less fleshy. Before, I would have told you that she had more flesh than a dairy cow cow often has, so I'm still not sure it matters. I figure if she does not continue to lose fleshiness then we're fine. If she keeps looking less and less good, then we might have to separate the calves a bit more to give her body a break, or maybe we'll wean them earlier.

Violet weaned Chappy at 13 months, and we weaned Gusto at 5 months. We know how to do it, and it has its own difficulties and benefits. For now, we'll just stay aware.

Cows and fencing

There was a cyclone fence around our backyard when I was little. I do not remember my parents doing anything to maintain it besides an occasional assault on the honeysuckle. Our dogs sometimes got out through a gate that did not shut well, but we just quit using that gate. Our house in Fort Worth also had a cyclone fence, but it needed all the hackberry cut out and had many gaps due to the pushing of the trees in it. We never quite figured out how to tackle the problems that fence had.

Now, fence has come to mean something much different, although maintaining the same purpose. We put up all the fence ourselves, and we tried to put it where we want it. It is easily moved and restructured. It's set at a height that easily allows clearing around it. And it almost always keeps the cows where we want them. That almost is the important part.

Calves, it turns out, are particularly tricky to fence, especially when you're used to keeping a docile milk cow. Even that docile cow occasionally takes a notion to jump the top strand of fence wire. So far, we have not had to wander off our property to find a cow or calf, but I'm attributing that to luck. We have talked about putting tall woven wire around the perimeter, but it's expensive and time consuming to install. We will do it, but in stages, and starting only in the places we feel certain we want the fenceline to remain. Each year, we've tweaked the fenceline, realizing that the back pasture has quite good grazing closer to the house, or that we want space in the front field for a really big garden space. We want the cow to graze in the orchard, but we don't want fence there all the time. And so on...

We also have a wooden paddock by the cow shed as a more permanent fence and one that does not rely on electricity. This is because electric fence does not carry much of a jolt in winter what with snow and frozen ground and all.

However, when we knew we were building a new cow shed and that we would have to address the fencing around that AND we were confronted with all the bedding in the old cow shed, we took down part of the paddock to make moving the tractor around easier. (The tractor will now be considered in all fence placement.)  Here we are in March with new calves who can simply walk through wire- and we've seen calves do it even when the wire has a powerful punch- and no real paddock to confine them. Also, the opening we made in the paddock for the tractor is so wide that no fence solution we know of will work. Perhaps now is a good time to point out that sinking fence posts in March is, shall we say, challenging.

What are we poor planners to do?

First you get more cattle panels. I'm sorry there is no picture of the panels strapped over the top of the CRV. Suffice it to say that these panels are very flexible and reached from the front bumper all the way down the back glass. We drove the half hour home quite carefully, peering through the grids of the panels.

Next, some bungee cords and ratchet straps come in handy. We also found an alternative use for some wrapped bales of hay.

It's true that the cow is already tearing at the plastic where she can reach it. And it's true that the bungee cords probably will not hold Violet in when she wants the grass that will be growing a couple of weeks before she's allowed to graze. But we'll deal with these problems as they arise. The hay that's messed up by the torn plastic can be used as bedding or mulch. We'll run a hot wire inside the paddock once a little electricity will do some good. For now, I'll just enjoy our funny innovations.

And I'll be comforted that everyone is contained, at least for now.

How We Handle Calves

First, let me say that this is only the third time either of us have had to deal with newborn calves. Still, the same thoughts influence us each time. Violet is so interested in her calves that it would feel cruel to separate them right away, or even a few days in. This particular post will be about what has happened between us and these two calves in their first couple of days of life.

We tried not to intervene yesterday morning, so besides moving them into the barn, we did not handle them until we felt we really needed to. Then we did that work quickly, but trying not to hurry or startle anyone, and got Violet back with her calves. We went down and watched her and the calves at least once an hour all day long, but only once after evening chores.

During evening chores, we did our best to keep the calves close to Violet. She is much calmer already this time than the first two times we had calves, but she still does not want one of us between her and a calf. The boy nursed while I was milking last night, and I am eager for them to get as much milk as possible. I gave up any teat he was trying to latch onto. He sucked my jacket and wrist and checked here and there to see if I was hiding a teat anywhere. (Perhaps, I smelled a bit too much like Violet and the calves.) I did what I could to get most of the milk, as the calves will not eat as much at first, and Violet's bag looked huge and uncomfortable. Yet, I left some for the one still nursing.

This morning, the heifer was outside the barn, lying in the snow and ice. There are many problems with this. First, she could get quite cold. Second, if she got startled, even a wobbly little calf can cover a surprising distance in surprisingly little time; she was more likely to run away than toward her mom out of the barn than in the barn. Third, Violet was not happy to have her out of reach. Fourth, she's so little. We put up a third spring gate, and before too long, we purchased a cow panel and rigged it across the opening. We REALLY do not want a calf wandering around.

The cow panel also means we could easily lean some old plywood across the opening to block some of the wind. We're having a spell a winter, and it seems just a little more shelter would be good for these scrawny beasts. Mostly, we try to keep everyone outside as much as possible. Since these two were born at an inclement time of year, we're having to figure out just how much extra we need to do to help Violet keep them healthy. We also bought straw to use for bedding instead of old hay. Straw is expensive and most likely has round up in it, but it makes amazing bedding. We really want these guys to stay dry, so we're spreading straw twice a day.

This morning's milking was difficult, but peaceful. The girl calf nursed while I was milking, but she wanted to do it from the same side I was sitting on. I repeat- these two calves are quite scrawny and I was not feeling that my desire to milk outweighed her need to nurse. So, I worked around her. It was annoying and funny and I probably won't let that happen again.

This evening, the boy frolicked about the barn and the girl nursed while I milked. The cow panel meant no one was slipping out of the barn, and everyone was really calm. Calm is what we're after when dealing with cows. Calm is part of the reason we don't separate them at all at first. In a few days, Violet will mellow out some. With these two, we'll probably give them longer than the previous calves before we separate them for even part of the day. It is cold and it will be cold, at least in spells, for another month or so. They're pretty good size, but I want them to have some fat on them before they start spending nights with a fence between them and their mother. My heart tells me it's the right thing to do.

And at some point, it will be too much of a bother. Then, we'll re-evaluate, and most likely, we'll start separating them overnight and milk just once a day in the mornings. We'll just have to wait and see.

TWINS!

This morning when we got down to the pasture to do chores, Violet was making the special sound she makes when she's talking to a calf. Sure enough there it was just under Violet's nose, on the ice in the pasture instead of in the barn. We quickly put fresh bedding in the barn and went to grab the obviously newly born calf. Except, it had already moved about 10 feet. Except that Violet was still standing where we had first seen the calf, talking. Nope- two calves, one looking pretty normal, one not so good.

I kept Violet at bay while Jason carried each into the barn, and then Violet eagerly joined them. The one still looked VERY bad to my eye. I ran to the house to call our friends who know at least a little (probably a lot) more than we do, but we were quite reluctant to intervene much because Violet is a very good mother and quite adamant about her calves. After the consultation, we thought we would try to at least rub the rough looking one dry. Violet reacted violently, and we regretfully left, letting nature take its course.

The next two hours pretty much sucked.

Then, we asked our friends to come over and help us get Violet out of the barn so we could get a better look at both calves, as now the worse looking one was perking up, but neither had walked or nursed. Our friends brought over colostrum and an extra bottle. We used a little grain to urge Violet out of the barn, and set to work.

One is a boy, one is a girl. They look pretty scrawny, but actually not too bad now. Pictures later...

We rubbed them dry, gave them each a bottle, got them on their feet, and got out of the barn so Violet could come back in. Both calves have nursed some today, but Violet is so engorged they're having a little trouble latching. We'll milk her this evening- that should be exciting! We'll give them each another bottle of colostrum and hope for the best.

They look so frail. It's going to be below freezing for the next week.

Last bit of info- because they are heifer/bull twins, there is a greater than 90% chance that the girl will be sterile. And that sucks, too.

Due dates and bovines

You know, the new cow shed still looks pretty much like this:

It is further along, but not much. The big difference is that there is snow everywhere. When it snowed a couple of weeks after this picture was taken, we decided for our safety, we would make due with the current shed. We thought we wouldn't have a calf until April, which would mean probably at least a couple of windows to roof the new shed without the slipperiness of snow.

The problem with the old shed is that it gets wet, especially in the spring. We were building this one with the intention of not having another calf confined in the wet shed. We even filled half of that shed with chickens, so there isn't really all that much room in it at this point for a couple of cows.

Last week, as I followed Violet out of the paddock, I noticed her nethers looked extra big and swollen. I glanced at her bag, but it looked completely flaccid. When I said something to Jason, he reminded me that we weren't expecting a calf until April.

Then, my dear friend was visiting from Colorado, and she said something about the view of Violet from the rear, and I mentioned how Violet isn't even bagging up (swelling associated with milk production). I glanced again at said bag, and I thought it looked more swollen than a couple of days before.

Monday morning, Jason said, "Did we get the dates wrong?" as he followed Violet out of the paddock.

We double checked and sure enough that April calf is due March 15. There's still a lot of snow on the ground. There is no chance of roofing and siding that new shed in the next week. And maybe, the calf really won't come until April; the last two calves were born pretty far from the due dates. But Violet sure looks ready. All her girth has settled closer to the ground. She's cut way back on how much she's eating. She just wants someone to stand beside her and brush her. Then there's all that swelling.

I'll keep you informed!

What If

What if in a suburban neighborhood a block of neighbors decided to pool their backyards. Then they could have a cow, maybe only a small cow, and then each household could help tend the cow. Even Violet gives about 2 gallons on average a day, which is plenty for one family. Maybe each household would have to compromise and take only a gallon. Or maybe, everyone would see that the benefit was more important than complete equity in milk distribution. Perhaps, the resulting calf- there is always a calf when you're keeping a cow in milk- could be turned into ground beef and shared equally. Imagine a neighborhood where the people were producers instead of only consumers.

Sure, sure, there are logistical problems, and anyone who has been in a cooperative knows the work will not be divided evenly. But again, maybe the benefits would be more important than the headaches.

What, you may be wondering, would be the benefits?

1. Fresh, raw, unhomogenized milk. For the squeamish, they could pasteurize it themselves. This is a benefit beyond the ken of most people today. Most of the things done for "safety" regarding milk are actually more closely linked to shelf life.

2. A relationship with a cow. Cows are good for people; they make you be calm because you're going to lose if your bad attitude irritates the 1200 pound cow.

3. Nice, lush, low-maintenance lawns. Cows are good for grass and they will mow it just right, given proper handling.

4. A reason to work things out with your neighbors. Now, if your neighbor is annoying you, the easiest solution is avoidance. When you and that annoying neighbor are sharing a cow, you're going to have to face those issues and find solutions. That's better for the whole world.

5. A reason to be outside. Cows require some work, and most of it cannot be done sitting on your butt watching television. So, at least once a week, you'll have to go outside a couple of times and commune with the cow, or at least make sure she has food and water and has been milked.

6. Closer link to nature. Cows have less mediating their relationship with nature, so when working with a cow, you become more attuned, as well. Cold has more meaning when someone you care about lives outside. Heat, too, is more significant if it triples the amount of water you must haul. What exactly is growing underfoot takes on significance when it will appear on your OWN table in the form of milk.

I cannot see this happening with ordinances and what not, but wouldn't it be amazing if someone out there could make it work. Even one successful neighborhood cow could start a movement.

Another Good Use of Electricity

Back when we weaned Gusto, we suddenly were overwhelmed with milk. It seemed a fine time to learn to make butter. The children and I have made butter in a jar, shaking and shaking and shaking the jar until finally some globs separate. It was tedious and long, and I really do not think my children learned much from it. My friend has made butter in her daisy churn; she was unimpressed with the "convenience", but she believes it's a good alternative if she ever has to make butter without electricity. I have also made butter using a food processor, but the results were less than thrilling. Faced with all this milk, I needed to choose a method of butter making.

I did what many homesteaders do these days, at least the ones lacking knowledgeable elders, I turned to the internet. These first method I found different from those already listed was to use an upright mixer. Some of you may be wiser or more farsighted or more experienced than I am and you may already know what happened. For those of you lacking these traits that I lack, I will tell you- it was an unholy mess. There was cream on the cupboard doors and cream in the drawers and cream on the stove and cream on the floor and cream on me and really just cream everywhere. To top it off, it took FOREVER to whip into butter, maybe as long as 45 minutes. I went back to the drawing board and pondered the lovely convenience of the tidy sticks of butter one buys at the grocery store.

I decided to try the food processor again with a little phone support from a friend who makes all the butter they use. It is perhaps the very best reason for owning one of these noisy machines. After ten minutes, I had butter floating in butter milk.

I think the reason the food processor did not work when I tried it before had to do with the temperature of the cream. It was in Texas and I did have a toddler and preschooler "helping", and I am not sure the butter did not go too long or that the ten minutes it takes seemed more like 45 with two children under foot.

So, this information is already widely available on the internet, but to keep you from looking further, here's what you do. Allow the cream to separate from the milk; this only works with raw, unhomogenized  milk. If your milk has traveled much, it may not separate very well. When you can clearly see the line between the milk and the cream, skim the cream off the top of the jar (this is a bad time to have milk in a jug) and put it into another jar or straight into the food processor. The cream is much easier to skim and make into butter if it is chilled.

 Now, put the cream into the food processor with the spinning blade thing that sits in the bottom and turn it on. Sometimes the butter will make in under five minutes and sometimes it might take fifteen. The trick is to pay some attention because if it goes too long and gets too warm, you have to chill it and start again.

 The sound will change, and you might open it to see something like whipped cream. Let it keep going. You might open it again and see something like whipped butter; let it go just a little longer.

What you should see when you open it should look clearly like butter floating in milk.

So, gently pour off the milk- ideally not down the pipes as it will some day cause you untold sorrow. Run a little cold water into the food processor and pulse the butter. Drain it again. Add the cold water and pulse again. Drain.

Now is a good time for a wooden bowl. I do not work the butter much in this bowl, but I do give it a couple of turns to get a bit more of the buttermilk out of it. The butter will keep longer the more free of buttermilk it is. We freeze our butter, so this is less of an issue.

Put it into jars that do not have shoulders, seal them up (not canned), and put them into the freezer.

Eating with Gusto

Last November, Violet had a little bull calf. He was much prettier than Chappy, aka Clover, ever was. He was also less shy of people. Still, the fate of male calves in a setup like ours is pretty much the same- he was table bound.

Gusto was quite different from Chappy. He would nurse when I was milking, for example, which seemed pretty great at first. Violet would let down her milk much more vigorously than when I was just milking. Also, he wasn't taking even half the milk, so we had plenty. As he got bigger, he took more of the milk, and we did begin separating him the same way we had done Chappy. He was also harder on Violet than Chappy had been; her teats kept getting little scrapes and cuts from his nursing. Finally, we decided to wean him.

What we learned at that point is that Violet is a much easier milk cow when she does not have a nursing calf. She relaxes more, and milking is a pleasanter task. We got a surprising amount of milk once we weaned the calf and more cream. There are definite advantages to weaning a calf instead of waiting for Violet to do it.

Another thing I learned from Gusto is that banding a calf requires a little more focus on the task at hand. It seems that even though I banded him, I still had a little bull calf. This was not much of a problem until he got to be about ten months old and wanted very much for Jason to stay clear of the pasture. The braggadocio of a bull calf is comical until you remember that he outweighs you by a few hundred pounds.

That means we now have beef in the freezer and this on the stove. Because we now own a pressure canner, it makes sense to get the bones all turned into broth and out of the freezer. I'm giddy! Even my canning book calls broth a convenience food.

I'll simmer these for a couple of days, then can them in pint jars, and I'll have a beautiful ingredient for pretty much any sauce or soup.

This also all means Violet is alone again. I really want her to have another cow all the time, but at the moment, we cannot make that happen. The good news is that she did not exhibit as much stress as she did when we killed Chappy. Her next calf is due in April, and if that one is a heifer, we'll keep her to train into a milk cow.

Chappy's Dead

There are no pictures.

So, the fellow came and we were gathering the materials, and I went to put the dogs in the house to keep them out of the way. And there was a shot. Just one.

When I made it to the house, Sylvie was standing by the front door; she asked, "Is Chappy dead?" After I said yes, she asked, "Aren't you excited?"

And I guess I am a little excited that our freezer will be full of meat that we raised right here. I do like having cuts of meat that I would never buy. I like feeling like we have an endless supply of one of my favorite instant foods- ground beef.

I'm also a little sad. But that wasn't going to get the job done today.

I saw how big a heifer's stomach is relative to her body. In my head, roughly half of my torso has intestines curled back and forth filling the cavity. In a chicken, I know there is a surprising amount of intestine in such a little body. Now, imagine if you will a cow, big squarish torso. Now fill at least half of that enormous cavity with stomach. It was amazing.

Also, a cow's liver is an unbelievable size; it must weigh between 15 and 20 pounds.

I got to watch how to dress a cow before taking it to be hung. The meat will hang for about 2 weeks in a refrigerated locker, then it will be cut up and ready for our freezer.

Finally, I will say that Violet is very disturbed. Maybe I am projecting, but I don't think so. She's sad. Her face is covered in tears. And I'm sorry for my part in the food chain, but not sorry enough to quit eating meat. I do not feel any remorse for killing Chappy; it was quickly done after a very pleasant, uneventful life. I do wish there was a way to make it easier on Violet.

Execution Date Is Set

August 5. That's when the man will come and kill Chappy so we can put her in our freezer.

I am very pleased about the meat, but I'm a little sad to kill our rotten, fat calf. It seems I'm confronted on all sides with the killing I do in order to grow my own food. (And for all you people who do not eat meat, just free yourself from the delusion that no killing was done to bring your food to the table.)

I kill potato bugs by the hundreds. I kill their larva, I crush their eggs. I kill them daily. I squash them and have their guts on my pants and glasses. I know how potato bug blood smells.

I kill cucumber beetles, stalking them in the early morning when they're sluggish and easy to catch. I kill cabbage moth caterpillars. I kill Japanese beetles and the little tan beetles that are not Japanese beetles.

I kill the spiders that build webs in my house, I encourage the cats to kill mice, I celebrate the dog's mole-killing endeavors.

And now, we're discussing which chickens to cull and when to kill the meat birds.

Really, I'm going to keep eating meat and I'm not going to let the potato beetles eat the potatoes to the ground. The Japanese beetles and tan beetles may not eat all the rose buds before they open or all the leaves from the plum trees. The cucumber beetles may not make lace of every leaf on the squash and melon plants. So, I guess I'll get back to the business of murder.

How's Violet?

We did get Violet inseminated In January, so we should have a calf right around my dear friend's birthday in October. Maybe we'll name the baby after her.

So, something funny that happened within days of the insemination is that our very exciting cow got very boring, but in a good way. From January until last week, she was easy to milk, she was reliably adjusted to our routine, she stood extremely still during milking, she gave me cues before she peed or pooped so I had more of a chance to get out of the way. Really, just the way you idealists might imagine milking a cow might be.

About two months ago, Chappy came into heat for the first time. What do you know about cows in heat? Well, if you don't want to know, skip this paragraph and maybe the next one. When in heat, cows mount other cows or they are mounted; it's called standing heat. Having a herd of only two cows means my dear, sweet little calf was mounting her mother. It means that she would nurse and then try to mount her mother. It means her mother got pretty darn tired of that nonsense and quit letting her nurse. The really fun part is that this recurs every three weeks. The last time Chappy was in heat, we took pity on Violet, and locked Chappy up for the day.

Every three weeks, Violet quits letting Chappy nurse, then after a couple of days she lets her nurse a little. We can tell when we milk whether Chappy nursed the day before. This past week, I'm not sure if she's nursed at all.

That's because our dear cows are now back on grass, and we have a new little excitement at milking time. Violet would much rather be on pasture than wait twenty more minutes while I'll milk her. We only had to force the issue one morning, but her attitude was so reminiscent of her pre-pregnancy behavior, that I'm sure glad we got her inseminated.

Cow Worship

Our cow is no nicer than she was. She still gives us terrible trouble when the mood strikes. The other morning, for example, she cavorted about, kicking up her heels, brandishing her horns, charging toward us in a scary way. Our best guess is that it was too dark for her to see well, and she did not want to leave the safety of the barn. We altered our schedule slightly, and that behavior has not resurfaced.

So, maybe you’re wondering why I would talk of cow worship. Well, every morning, I humble myself to her. I serve her by carefully wiping the crap from a variety of her surfaces. Even in this challenging, relatively foul task, I speak calm words of praise to her beauty and admire her coat and express respect for her size and horns. I make offerings of affection, like a good rub behind the horns, that she might deign to accept as worthy of her greatness.

Then comes the part that really feels like sacrifice.

I kneel close beside her. I am under and behind the wideness of her belly. I am right beside the power of her feet, pretty much beneath the bulk of her. I am completely in the splatter zone of any of her elimination. It’s hard to remember to breath evenly as I reach under and work my hands along her teats. I feel very aware of how she could step on my bent knee or move quickly enough to knock me over. I press my forehead or cheek to the greatness of her side when she is not sullied. I feel the stiffness of my back and hands as I resist the amount I have to surrender to my task.

And finally, when I surrender, on the majority of mornings when she stands peacefully as I work, I know why people worshipped cows.

I have also been thinking on my years as a vegetarian and vegan. While taking more and more responsibility for my current choices to eat meat and milk and all things animal, I see the logic behind choosing not to. My cow is enslaved. We try to make it pleasant, and I am comfortable with our choices, but we require a hundred little sacrifices from her. She is parted from her calf for many hours of the day. We decide whether she’ll have shelter for a day or not. She is a herd animal isolated in a group two. We wake her most mornings so we can take milk she makes for her calf. (I know she makes an abundance of milk due to breeding, but I assure you she would rather the calf nurse than me milk her.) We chain her. We limit her diet and her ability to roam. And so on.

When I think of these things, as I meditate solemnly beside her, I think she might be due a little worship as well.

Standing In The Grocery Store

A friend told me today that she could have bought milk for 78 CENTS a gallon. She was only able to resist the temptation with her mantra, “That’s pus milk. That’s pus milk...”

I feel frustrated when I see valuable food priced in such an outlandish way. I want to first point out that a farmer cannot feed a cow grass for $.78 a gallon, never mind the cost to process, package, transport, and advertise it. I also realize that milk at this price is a loss leader, but I feel certain the farmer will ultimately feel the pinch because of this ludicrous price.

There is also the psychological factor. I believe Americans, and maybe people in other countries as well, underpay for their food. They even balk when something comes close to costing what it actually cost the farmer to produce it. I will say again that most people are so far removed from their food, that they lack any understanding of how it came to be on their table in that particular package.

When milk is used like this, we further undervalue it, and I believe it can have longer term effects. Doesn’t a candy bar cost more than $.78? Do people equate the value of gallon of milk to a candy bar?

And what about my friend’s little chant about pus milk? When a person buys “regular” milk instead of organic, what are they really buying? There has been so much written about what actually arrives in your gallon of conventional milk that I think I’ll skip that part and go straight to the real cost of that milk. When you buy milk from a huge cooperation whose only goal is to make money, you can bet you are not getting the healthiest product. Also, the chemicals that go into feeding the cow more cheaply or more “efficiently” have a cost that it seems like no one talks about. Chemical farming rapes the land; we abuse animals when we subject them to a diet their bodies cannot digest. At some point, someone will have to pay the price of what our society has done to its farm land so that we can buy food cheaply.

We make milk on a very small scale, one cow, one tiny piece of land. We have to buy in hay. We buy organic hay for around $3.50 a bale. The cow eats a bale a day. We get about 1.5 gallons of milk a day. So, if wee calculate the cost of our milk in hay alone- leaving aside our time, the buildings, the fence, the hay hauling, etc. – 1 gallon of milk costs us over $2.30. What is wrong with our society that we deny the producers of our food what they have earned?