’til The Cows Come Home

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( photo by Kevin Grealish )

 

Cows happily munching on a sea of alfalfa.  Brent and the men got them moving.  It’s time to go to the pens, girls.
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The herd knows the routine.  They come in, eat hay, scratch.  Meet new friends.  Chill.  Then, they go to a new paddock filled with fresh grass.  The digger is there to hold the wall up.  Yeah, we’ll get there.  So much to do on this farm.  Sometimes, you secure some duct tape ( or a digger ) to keep things moving.

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After the triage, Brent and men walked the herd down to the new paddock.  Oh such good cows.  Above, the men are returning through “The Oat Field.”  This was a trial strip we did with oats.  It worked well, but I think we will incorporate the strip with Detroit or Nebraska.  The fence is on above.  The boys managed to break out and come back to the courtyard for dinner.  Next time, we can up the charge.  It’s tough to keep the boys in their paddock.

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The cows munched away on their new strip.  Calm cows.  My favorite kind of bovine.

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Kevin returned the digger to its home before the thunder storm.  I can tell you now, we have a drip when it rains a lot.  It is located right above my side of the bed.  I tested it.  The drip drips with great strength.  I moved the bed, chucked a bucket down with a towel to soften the noise and re-fell asleep.

 

Veal and mince are sold out!  We always take orders for our next offering.  Booty is currently aging.  Loves me some booty.  We’ll send a booty call in the next week.

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