After spending the weekend either on my Sleep Number Bed (I’m a 45.) or sprawled out on our brown, leather sofa with a smelly Pit Bull-cross named Ole for company, I just needed to get outside this morning.
No, my illness, whatever it may be, has not subsided and I still occasionally get throbbing pain on the back, left side of my head.
I just deal. If I go into the doctor, I know what he/she will say, “It’s a virus. Here take these opioids to feel better.”
The fresh air helped a bit to clear out my sinuses and I haven’t experienced a pain in my head since. (Sure I have felt a pain in my ass, but his name is Steve and I love him.)
It was a great day to be out at 6:30 in the morning. The sunrise was amazing, but I didn’t take any pictures. I can only have so many sunrise images hogging space on my phone’s storage card that is the size of a flea’s single bed.
Gastón and Tiny were very happy to see me. After all, it had been almost 48 hours since they gazed upon my cheerful face and shared nose rubs with me. Yes, every morning when I go out to feed the cute yellow beef heifer and white goat, we rub noses. Sometimes Gastón gets a bit careless and a slime line will connect my nose to his, but I deal with it. I love him too.
At first these two beasts of burden did not get along. Tiny would head butt Gastón and Gastón would run away.
Tiny still steals treats from Gastón, which is exactly what she is doing in this image to the left. You see, I love Gastón and he loves Guinea Pig feed, so every two weeks or so, I purchase a bag of Guinea Pig feed and mix it into his cracked corn that I steal from the beef cows, which is where I stole Tiny from. So, I guess in the end, it’s all good. Right?
After spending a bit of time with these two hooligans…I have to sit in the feed bunk, where Gaston is standing in the image and pet them for a few minutes…OK, a lot of minutes…I was off to check on the cows that are going to have babies in the next few weeks. I knew there was one special cow still in that barn.
Sure enough, Number 570, was still there, after having a difficult birthing event last night. She was up and about chewing her cud, and so I thought she would be fine, then I observed her udder. Talk about a milk tank! It was full!
We have a special headlock in our close-up pen that allows us to milk cows that we do not want to put out in the barn for health or safety reasons. Number 570 is still a little wobbly on her feet, so we milk her in this barn.
I have said for years that I miss milking in our old stanchion barn, where a person gets to know the cows as individuals, not just numbers! Just kidding. To us, our cows will always be numbers. I think it’s socially acceptable now, being that Eleven is a girl’s name in the Netflix series Stranger Things.
If you haven’t seen my video on our Hoffman Dairy Farm page, take a look. I confess, I am by no means a videographer and don’t really care about how I look, but it’s a cute little clip. It shows where a big 2000-pound Holstein loves to be scratched.
It’s been years since I milked a cow like this and it took me a bit to get down on my knees to put the milking unit on her and take it off. I didn’t have to do that when I milked years ago.
Number 570 is a beast. See that milking bucket in the right corner. She almost filled it half full with fresh, warm milk for her baby calf., pictured below.
He’s a cutie, isn’t he! He wasn’t real interested in eating so I had to use the esophageal feeder to get that colostrum into his belly. He’ll hate me now, but love me later when he’s taking his nap on a full belly. (This image is from when I first climbed into the Polydome to feed him.)
I was a great morning. I got some fresh air, got up close and personal with a few animals and came into write this blog, while Stevie made me a big bowl of oatmeal.
Life is good.