Moo-ing Me

It’s pretty clear that I’m completely enamored with the small cattle farm up the street from us.  It doesn’t just woo me, it moo’s me. Horribly ridiculous bad jokes aside, I love that place. One of the hayfields is our backyard, and the cows are sweet and have wonderful personalities. You can literally walk up to most of them and never think twice if they are going to buck into you. Besides the pastures are absolutely stunning. So is a Maine summer sky. This photo sums up everything that is perfect about where I live.

When we moved in 4 years ago there were over 20 head. Long before that there were plenty more. Today, in August of 2011, there are exactly 10 cows left. This includes the three calves born in the spring. I don’t really have much more to say on it except that it’s kind of sad. It’s something I feel like is happening to a lot of small farms around the country, not just “ours” (it’s not ours, but it feels like a part of us). That’s probably why it feels a little defeating to me. To me, small farms are the heart of America. The hardworking men and women who bring food to our table are slowly losing their farms; they seem to be getting smaller and smaller. I understand logically both sides of it, but my heart will always side with the small farm where I know the cows by their markings and the farmer and his wife’s door is always open.

Mostly, I just love seeing the cows. Yes, I’ve eaten some of them before. I know, it seems weird – but it’s actually nice knowing how well they are treated and exactly where their food comes from. We help harvest it after all.

All I’m saying is that I hope the cows are still up at that farm when their grandchildren grown up, and when we potentially have kids of our own down the line. One of the most calming things to me in the world is sitting in the pasture and hanging out with the cattle. I hope future generations get to experience this too.

I’m pretty sure Mr. A and I would do anything we could to save that farm. The best part is there are a lot of other family members who would do the same. It’s a good feeling.

That farm is my dream living scenario. Cows, pear trees, apple trees, a big beautiful old farmhouse and even more massive barn filled with all sorts of good antique farm & farmhouse items. Here’s to embracing the cattle that are left, loving the sweet smell of the fall air rolling over the pasture and the feel of a cows tongue as it hits your hand while grabbing an apple.

Happy Small Farm Loving,
Heather

A Barnyard + A Happy Soul

As I sit here snuggling a hot cup of tea (yes, snuggling, it’s tucked by my side while I type) I realized I couldn’t wait to share an exciting experience I’ve been wanting to see for years – a live calf birth.

When I was in sixth grade I loved the smell of a farm. I loved cows. I didn’t even mind the smell of manure. So my family indulged me by getting me a few cow trinkets, including a mug I still own. They did not indulge my desire to paint a farm mural on my wall or drive me to the local farm (in a suburban town) at 5am to muck stalls before school since they figured the cow thing was a phase I’d get over.

Wrong.

This morning when we stopped in after church one of the cows was stirring, her bags were full, she was swollen and she was agitated. This was my chance.  We drove home, I did a few crafts here (which I’ll post about later) and then threw on my $2.00 church fair shit kickers (can you say church and shit in the same sentence?), flannel and camera and went up to the farm. Sure enough the lady’s water sack was out. There was no way I was leaving.

First I stood outside the gates. I didn’t want to upset her.

Then the farmer, seen below, said it was no issue if I came closer. Because she wasn’t gated yet I stayed by the feeder. Okay, I stayed in the feeder.

Yes, I’m in your feeder. No, I would not like to explain myself.

Once the mother was gated by herself, I plunked down on a fence about 5 feet from her and sat quietly, for about an hour while she gave birth. It was windy, it was cold, but it was incredibly worth it. You can click on the photo below to make it larger. In the first picture you can see a calf born about 5 days ago.

I can’t believe I got to see this. It was an incredible experience and I’m forever grateful. While it was happening I sat there up on the fence, smelled the farm, heard the tractor, watched the cows, crunched the hay and thought “well, I never got over it”.

My soul was happy.

Here’s to living a wished for experience whatever it may be,

Heather