Brat Like Me » farming

Sometimes, You Need To Grab The Bull By Its Horns

Jean Curtis — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 19:48:57 +0000

Or be handed a rope wrapped around horns with a bull on the end. I wasn’t planning to hop in the pen and separate the calves with Brent, but sometimes you need to act on an opportunity. We need to wean the calves. Brent is finishing up his cow pen design. Using the buildings we have, Brent had successfully and calmly scotched the two black calves (baby bulls) into the pen and locked the door. With one left to go, he thought he’d try the same approach. Gordito, the final male calf to be separated, was very calm, but waffled a bit in joining his buddies. Brent decided to rope his horns and gently guide him in that way. One thing led to another and I found myself holding onto a rope with a bull on the end pulling with all my strength to guide him into the narrow hallway that will lead him to the pen with his buddies. He was a bit stubborn, but with Brent’s presence and pressure, he got him into the gate. And let me tell you these three things. One, cow poop is slippery when wet. Two, when you’re handed a rope that has been sitting momentarily in cow poop, it is slippery as it is wet. Three, when you go watching your husband work with the cows, be sure to leave your wedding rings at home, try to avoid wearing a miniskirt and always wear underwear (climbing over fences can be somewhat tricky without vital undergarments). I’ve always been a fan of wearing a miniskirt after thirty-five and by-golly France has time after time supported me on this virtue. Thankfully, our Madonna will lead the way for women in miniskirts. However, when you are roping bulls and dragging them calmly through to a pen, I might recommend alternate attire. The bulls are very pleased with their new accommodation. They have some lovely hay, the finest water and are close to their mums as they grow up and get on with it already. I mean you can’t sit around, watch Lost and play video games all day. They’re big bulls now and it’s time to grow up and step into life already. The mums are doing very well. Two of the mums are practically thanking us for helping the bulls move on to their special purpose. The other mum is moo-ing a bit, but is close to her calf so she should work it out in a couple of days. The bull pen is silent. I think the boys were ready. And now we get to use “bull pen” in its original form. I love this about farming. We grabbed the bull by the horns and it’s hanging out in the bull pen.

GrayCute was right there the whole time helping Brent with all the tractor work. Moving hay with the tractor can be tough work, but some cat has to do it.

I’m A Maniac

Jean Curtis — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 16:23:00 +0000

OH what a feeling! At last, I used our metal glue gun. Much thanks to Brent for holding the baby and pushing me out the door so I could spend a few hours with some very, very nice people who taught me how to get started welding as well as cow milking. Result: cow milking == hard, welding == FUN!

I still would like to get a house dairy cow, but there ain’t no way I will be milking by hand. It was great at first, but after awhile both the cow and me were thinking “are we done yet?” The woman whose cow I milked was fast, fast, fast at it. She made it look so easy. She milks twice a day and it takes her somewhere between twenty to fifty minutes. I’ll look into milking machines for one cow and see where that goes. The milk is amazing. I made some ice cream. One of the best ice creams I’ve ever made. I’m forever working on my recipe, but I think that fresh, creamy, fat milk made a huge improvement.

Then, I welded. I must admit, I squealed a few times when I first made that spark. Brent said, “people who weld don’t squeal.” After a couple goes, I got used to the spark and learned quickly to love it. Yes, yes, the welds aren’t perfect. I played a bit with little steel rivers to work on my rod-to-metal distance. It takes a little getting used to because the rod of steel shortens as you go and you need to maintain that perfect little weld bead. But, I stuck shit together with steel! I have a lot of practicing to do. Thankfully, I have a lot of metal. I feel much more comfortable returning to our book on “Farm Welding.” Last year when I started it, I hit way number ten (of twenty) on how I was going to kill myself, then gently put the book down. I haven’t picked it up since. Today helped me get past safety and general “this works like this.” Now I’m excited to learn the rest of the story.

And with that, I leave you this:

Today, In Farmville …

Jean Curtis — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 18:41:56 +0000

Brent and the boys moved material.

Lucy played “Musketeer Fairy.”

Minty Played with Lucy.

Muffin moped.

Zélie Macked.

G moved a ladder under the Gascon Sun.

Two chinese-made purses hung in an evergreen tree. One later broke.

Legend surveyed.

Kids frolicked. Majority avec tutu.

Tosca not photographed as she was guarding the fire and providing the finest quality assurance for any dropped crumbs created by resident one-year-old. She’s good like that. It’s a tough job, but some dog’s gotta do it.

Too Many Cockerels On The Dance Floor

Jean Curtis — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 17:40:33 +0000

Well, we eat meat. More specifically, we eat well-raised local meat. Even more specifically, we eat our own meat. The cows are still working their magic and just about ready. The chickens are snugging in a bit not laying like they used to as they tough it out through winter. In the meantime, we have some cock-a-doody cockerels running about giving anything hen-like a bit of a fluff. They’re not at all aggressive towards the kids or me, but that’s mainly because we’re not their cup-o-soup. Kevin has actively chased them out of the coop for the first time today, which let me know that their time has come. And so, I’ve mounted the blood-cone of death. There are those who can’t imagine eating animals with a name. I am not one of those people. I would much rather know EXACTLY where my meat comes from. In fact, every cow in France has a name, though you will not know of it if you buy your meat in abstracting white cassettes covered in plastic wrap. It’s the law. All those cows have names. 2011 was the year of ‘G.’ 2012 is ‘H.’ Chickens are different. The first two to try out the cone will be C1 and C2. They’re plump. They’re ready. They’ve got green-chook-curry written all over their future. Though I think I will try them as a roast to see how free-range chicken on this farm tastes. See, when I use the words “free-range chicken” your taste buds fired. The cockerels have had a happy healthy life here and it’s time for them to meet the cone.

Manvana

Jean Curtis — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 16:31:08 +0000

Owning your very own Toyota pickup can only be improved by owning your very own digger. Which can only be improved by owning your very own tractor.

I Went To A Christmas Market In France

Jean Curtis — Sun, 11 Dec 2011 20:57:19 +0000

A friend of ours rang me up to say hello and see if we’d be interested in going to one of these Christmas markets that are oat-and-aboat at this time of year. There were things for the kiddies, so how could I resisit?! It was in the village of Fourcès. Were someone to blindfold me and place me in the village of Fourcès, then asked me, “where are you right now?” My response to that question would be, “Disneyland? Hee hee?” Then I would be buzzed out of the village, hugely wrong. For I would not be in Disneyland, you stupid Californian, I would be in the beautiful village of Fourcès that hosts a small, but BEAUTIFUL Christmas market. So much joy was had by my four chit’lins, I could hardly contain my shutter speed.

After getting our free balloon animal, we walked around the scene skillfully calculating our retort to
“Oh Look!!! A Merry GO ROUND!!” and “THE DUCK GAME!!! MOMMY LOOK!!! THE DUCK GAME!!!!” It was all going so well. The Merry Go Round Scam, as I’ve splained before, is where they get your money for a fun kiddy ride, but leech Euro after Euro with the mop scheme. Two kids get on the Merry-Go-Round, fun and roundie-ness is had, one of your kids catches “the mop.” The Mop means FREE RIDE for the mop catcher!! WEEEE! The poor sap who didn’t catch the mop, who is friends with the one who catches the mop, sadly, does not get a ride. BOO! Mom, steps in to save the day with another Euro or three so mop-catcher and non-mop catcher can both enjoy the fun exactly equally perfectly squared. And the cycle continues as lazy, non-mop catcher finally gets their shit together to catch the mop … oh but they have friends and oooooh you can’t let their friends sit by and watch the winner enjoy another ride … so you need to fork out another Euro or three … okay so we skipped the wee-have-fun-spending-mommyandDaddysmoney-rides.

The Duck Game is easy to skip. I can spend twelve Euros allowing my kiddies to fish ducks and get a shitty prize OR I can give them each a Euro or two for not playing the Duck Game and come out ahead! And then, after we hit the candy bar of heaven, they forget the whole deal. Win!

Aside from those silly games, the fair was fantastic. Our friend quickly found a map of the very small town and located a little playground. The kids played for many, many minutes dare I say hours on a great open area. We went back in to the Christmas fun to meet Santa and dodge another round of horses carrying merriment in a sleigh. Santa gave the kids some great attention giving bon bons to Otto and Minty leaving Lucy with Taffy. Even though I understood this horrible atrocity, Lucy reiterated in volume approaching eleven that, “Taffy sucks” and “Chocolate covered caramel is divine.”

The chestnuts were roasting on an open fire and my husband is writing a blogpost while listening to Britney Spears. Holy crap we have four kids! They’re all snuggled up to Santa. Life is good. Life is quick.

What A Great Friday

Jean Curtis — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 17:48:57 +0000

Nothing perks up the soul like a warm, sunny day in December (well except maybe hot chocolate by the fire after a long day working in the cold). Today was dry so Brent and the gentleman helping us with the barn roofing could move swiftly fixing the crazy holes and damage incurred during the mean, bad wind storm (tempête) of 2009. It’s always a toss up with the roof. If you don’t fix it, the roof will eventually fall in. There are countless examples of ruins of this kind around the countryside. If you fix that little hole, the house or barn will stay put for ages even generations. But, do we need a roof for the cattle pens? In the case where it’s one small beam and five roof tiles, well yes, why not? But what about a lot of rotten beams and a whole lotta roof tiles? Brent’s original design was in the open air. There wasn’t a roof to be built. We’re here in the old pens and barns that all have a roof of some description and in some sort of condition needing some sort of repair. Do we fix it or tear it down. The answer so far has been fix some, tear down the crap. But more importantly, how can we use the digger? It turns out, the digger is great for lifting things and/or people to get to roofy bits. It’s also great for ripping out old, cement pole stuff that’s no longer needed. Not only a beautiful sunny day today, but a day the tractopelle got to eat gazole, lift crap and rip stuff down

Tosca and Legend made sure the house was safe by laying by the warm stone walls. Tosca with her grand belly is looking a bit miniature as Legend grows to his full size. She’s a ripe age of eight years and he is eight months today.

Project Cattle Pen

Jean Curtis — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 21:13:47 +0000

Brent has been working and designing cattle pens. We are designing a pen for low-stress animal handling. Brent took pieces from low-stress animal handling experts that work with our size herd as well as our animal handling skills. The result is simple and something the cows will happily trot through. We’ve used the existing pens (held together with baling wire) in the past as a rough draft. Some aspects were dreamy while others were tough. He’s eliminated the tough parts.

One of the big finds this week is that his design will fit into our old barn buildings. He originally set the pens up on a clean slate just outside our existing barns. This allowed him the freedom to come up with exactly what he wanted without existing silliness getting in the way. Then he ran his design past a farmer friend and they shifted it into our existing structures as a thought experiment. The result could save thousands of dollars as well as uncover a beautiful, old building.

Brent kicked off the demo by opening up an extremely not-so-stable “wall.” When the final panel came down, Brent, Zélie-in-the-backpack and me stood and oogled at the most astounding view. Pasture, trees, vineyard, classic Gascon farmhouse were perfectly posed in the distance. Before it was tired, stringy plastic, rotting wood posts and heavy steel panels. Now it is Oz. This view of the distance and pasture will help the cows happily move through the pens.

Legend demonstrates how a calf would hop through the hacked together veal pen. This will be removed.

CandyShop “guards” the crappy wooden fence used as a barrier. This will be replaced with a metal barrier with five or six horizontal bars.

This Week, On Jean Acres

Jean Curtis — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 20:24:06 +0000

Mr. Vine Man came to finish the vines. It turns out he brought a truck to haul out the hot wire. I tried to rush and get my camera to capture the smoking wire as it smoked a trail down our driveway, but one can only run so fast carrying a baby in the backpack. They carried other wire that was not so hot, but to wrap it all up today, they had to grab some of the hot stuff.

Michael came out while I was doing my chicken run and mentioned that the water was out. Occasionally, we’ll get a little water blip when the village does some maintenance on the water line. They don’t always tell us and the water comes back so quickly, it’s never a problem. Michael and I joked how “gee water cuts off right as vine men show up” ha ha ha. And then Mr. Vine Man came knocking on our door saying, “coupé l’eau.” To you and me that means, “whoops, I fucked up and cut your water line.” He quickly popped over to the water man. The water man came out with some help and we had our water up and running within the hour. Now that is service! This is the part where I love our small village and our strong community. Getting the water cut off is always a great reminder for us to have our back-up water plan. With the drought, the lakes are slowly filling up, but not as quickly as we’d like. We have a pretty awesome well outside our front door that we hope get running in the near future. For some odd reason, I always have a liter or two of drinking water in a pitcher somewhere and Brent keeps the cows water full before we tuck them in at night. If the water gets cut off, we have some room to troubleshoot.

After we checked out the water situation, Brent, me and Z went for a Detroit pasture walk. Kevin gave Brent an awesome hat that he no longer wears. I think it may be a pumpkin that bought a normal size issue. Surprisingly, it fit Brent’s pumpkin quite perfectly. After he’s been happily wearing it for a while he looked closer at the label and noticed that this cool Aussie hat (akubra) is called a “cattleman.” He wears it all the time. I love the look and I thank Kevin for allowing me to wear it home for Brent.

On our walk we saw Bambi and friends that live in our forest. Legend ran a tiny bit to check out what was what, but kept close. He’s a guarder not a chaser. He watched the deer intently and made sure they didn’t harm us. He’s a good pup that Legend.

GrayCute and CandyShop held their position by the barn should any more water-line-cutting trouble come our way. Thankfully our barns are safe due to their nap … I mean guard.

I did a little Christmas shopping today. We’re on a tight budget, which makes for some inventive and fun Christmas finds. In the past, Brent and I give each other a limit, say ten or twenty bucks. Then, on Christmas Eve we pop into Coles or Safeway and come home with a brilliant Christmas present. He has sipped coffee from his High School Musical mug for months! Brent usually wins on cool, crazy gifts for ten bucks at Coles, but this year I hope to top him.

While I was out I picked up some food. After all that talk on generics, I totally left out the evil Carrefour Kid generic that lifts at least twenty centimes from you for each food item directed at moms and dads. And tonight, I TOTALLY FELL FOR IT. There it was, Carrefour Discount fish sticks VS Carrefour Kids fish sticks. Fish sticks are pretty much the only junk food we feed the kids. It’s fish. It’s fast. It’s delicious. I knew I’d be late so I thought I fry up some of these beauties in lard. But did I buy the Carrefour Discount sticks?? No, no. I spent at least twenty extra centimes to recycle a box with a picture of Donald Duck and his minions. The kids washed theirs hands, sat down for dinner, ate and went off without ever knowing that Donald was there representing the food. In fact, Donald’s expression on the package is EXACTLY what I did when I realized at the cash register what the heck just happened. Oblivious little duck children carrying their fish with grumpy parent pissed off that he was a victim of marketing. I know the fish sticks in the white packet are the same as in the blue packet and yet still I acquiesced.

The Day The Vineyard Died

Jean Curtis — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 09:41:40 +0000

Well, it was dead awhile ago, but the big, brown piles have been set ablaze. No longer will I hum, “Sigmund the sea monster and Johnny and Scott are friends” as I go off on errands. To me they’ve always resembled little Sigmund. To others they might be Daleks or Pleasure GELFs. Either way, they’re gone now and we can move on with getting the pasture lush and bountiful for the herd.

There are LOADS of volunteer vines throughout the old vineyard. I’m planning on digging some up and erecting a little mini-vineyard to remember what this farm once was.

Brent picked up the kids from school and they saw ten giant bonfires. They were giddy with excitement. We all hung around the one located outside of the villa and tossed wood in. They quickly learned that the white stuff on the ground was actually really, really hot.

There will be a few more Sigmund burnings today. When all the piles burn to the ground, the vineyard-burning man comes around and digs holes to bury the metal. And that will be that.

Adishatz, vineyard and thanks for all the grapes.