dairy bowl

Nope, not a bowl of ice cream. An actual competition where they ask 4-H kids questions about dairy cows and dairy operations and the dairy business and important dates in dairy history (who knew) and just about every affliction that can be visited on an unlucky dairy cow. Not to mention the whole reproductive process.

It is mind-boggling how much information this is.

Seven kids from the 4-H club decided a few months ago that this sounded like a lot of fun, or at least something that they had an interest in doing. Two of them were Primo and Secondo. None of them have ever owned or worked with a cow, and two of them own no livestock, just rabbits.

Once they got into the sheer volume of material they may have had second thoughts, but they (rarely) let on. Those kids kept plugging away, learning such things as:

(a) the scientific name for mad cow disease; and...

(b) which breed is known for its golden milk; and...

(c) the fast food chain that uses the most milk; and...

(d) how old a calf is when it begins to chew its cud; and...

(e) how many pounds of whole milk it takes to make a pound of cheese; and...

(f) what month is National Ice Cream Month...

That's just the tip of the iceberg. (But the answers are below in case you want to know.)

We had multiple study sessions together, and for the past three weeks, I e-mailed them ten questions to study, every night. Even past the point where I suspected they weren't even looking at the e-mails, I kept it up. I didn't want them to think I had given up on them. What they did with the help was their choice.

Today they got the chance to test their knowledge. The kids they were competing against had cows of their own, so there was a bit of a handicap, but they made a pretty good showing! They kept on studying during their breaks, trying to cram even more cow-related information into their brains.

At the end of the day, they didn't advance, but they weren't particularly disappointed. They all answered at least one question correctly and they knew the answers to quite a few more (the competition was a buzzer system that rewarded a good knowledge of how the buzzer worked). Most of them plan to try again next year.

If you had told my poor LSH when we first had children, that someday they would want to learn everything there is to know about a cow, he wouldn't have believed you.


(a) bovine spongiform encephalopathy; (b) Guernsey; (c) McDonalds; (d) 2-3 weeks; (e) 10 pounds; (f) July. I learned a few things along the way as well!

update on the chaos

I feel like I can't enter the weekend without a quick follow-up to yesterday's calamity-filled post. Things did indeed look up once I returned to the farm loaded down with every kind of stock feed known to man. Perhaps the gods just needed an animal feed offering?

The billing program worked.

The lights in the basement came on.

The water pressure was back to normal levels.

(I didn't test my luck by fooling with the trailer door.)

Secondo is still forgetful, however, and I had to swing by the middle school with a critical piece of homework this morning, but that's not anything out of the ordinary. I am chalking the rest of it up to the recent spate of sun flares.

a study in entropy

There is no greater place for entropy to do it's dastardly work than a farm. Farms are working proof that nature skews towards disorder at all times, and no matter how hard you might push back against the principal, it is a losing battle. Nature always wins.

Today was just such a proof-filled day, and it wasn't only the farm conspiring against me. It was pretty much every system possible.

I started out trying to print Secondo's essay. The home printer would print one page before descending into gobbledegook. I switched to the printer in my LSH's office, which was working fine just yesterday. It refused to do anything. I managed to make a third, little-used printer spit it out, and then Secondo left it on the kitchen counter and had to sprint back down the driveway before the bus arrived.

Speaking of Secondo... He was asked to shut the trailer door yesterday, after it had somehow become unlatched. He failed to remember when he went out to lock up the chickens. As a matter of fact, he also forgot to lock up the chickens (luckily no chicken loss). Wind blew the door back against the trailer all night long and bent the frame. Remains to be seen how / if / when it can be fixed.

I was in a mood by this point, and decided a run would be the best way to blow off steam (as opposed to, say, chewing a kid's head off, plus the kid had left for school, lucky kid). Running watch failed to charge, despite being on the charger for two days straight. Probably ran my fastest run ever due to mounting frustration levels, but I'll never know now, will I?

Water pressure low for shower. Blamed my LSH for forgetting to turn off the hose to the back pastures. He thought it was me putting a load in the washer. Neither was right. Don't really want to think about what the real reason might be.

Speaking of laundry, little pull cord on the lights in the basement no longer working. Gave up on folding laundry in the gloom.

No cat food.

No rabbit food.

No sheep food.

Of course the billing system for my LSH's office is wonky and refuses to recognize insurance companies that don't start with the letter "A". I really shouldn't have touched it today.

I am leaving the farm now, to get all that darn food, and don't plan to return for a good long while. Maybe by the time I come back this black cloud will have blown over.

fleeced

Only four days late! Shearing day always knocks me out for at least a week, exhaustion-wise, and the time change that night didn't help matters. I am just now coming up for air.

As these things go, it was a relatively smooth shearing. We had a bit of trouble getting the ewes penned up into the barn that morning. After months of an uninterrupted run of the back fields, they sensed something was up. Sheep are not stupid... The first crew got them all the way from the back fields right to the barn door. Accounts differ as to whether it was unseasoned sheep wranglers (one of Secondo's friends kindly lending a hand) or Dusty, but for whatever reason, the entire flock turned tail and ran all the way back into the field where they started. Two more people on the job and we finally got them turned around and headed in, except for this stubborn cuss, who had to be dragged all the way:

That's Jenny. She has been wild since the day she arrived almost two years ago, but then again, she doesn't really give us much trouble health-wise, so we feel we can't complain. She refuses to be broken to halter or even to go where all the other sheep are going, so moving her around can be a chore.

Shearing day always goes by in a giant blur. I am so busy trying to remember all that has to be done, that I barely have a memory of who is here and what they are doing or even what I am supposed to be doing. Luckily the shearer knows exactly what he is doing.

Same with our chapter of the ISPSPP*, who are well-versed in their art, even though they were forced to operate without one of their charter members. My dad was feeling very poorly at that point and stayed mostly in the house, though he still insisted on cooking the entire brunch; yes, I felt properly guilty when he was admitted to the hospital that night with pneumonia. (He is out and on the mend now, thank goodness.)

I don't know what we would do without them. They are right there to catch the fleece up as the shearer is done and get it properly laid out on the skirting table, while offering helpful comments to me about the state of the fleece and its former owner. Rumors abound that farms in other states are trying to convince them to lend their mad skirting skillz to other shearing operations; that's how good they are.

They certainly did a masterful job, and I have plenty of fleeces ready for their second, more thorough skirting, though I can't even think about that just yet.

Meanwhile the sheep have spent the past few days getting reacquainted. Every year, they suffer same confusion as a virtual stranger is popped back into their pen. Sans fleece, they have no idea who the intruder is and beat up on her until a critical majority is similarly de-fleeced. Then they wander around sniffing each other and working out the pecking order all over again.

The rams even went so far as to lick one another during this process.

OK, so maybe sheep are just a little bit stupid.


* International Society of Professional Sheep Poop Pickers

behind the scenes

I thought I would get the shearing day photos posted yesterday, but it turned out to be an even crazier night. Plus I can't put my hands on that camera on the moment, so the photos will have to wait a day or two until I locate it.

I can offer photos of the Philadelphia Flower Show instead though, because I do know where that camera is! Unfortunately the only day we could make it down there was yesterday, after shearing, and now I can give you the best advice ever on attending the PFS:

Never, ever, go on a Saturday afternoon, especially after you spent the morning at a sheep shearing.


The show was spectacular, as always, and chock-full of orchids to befit the Hawaiian theme. This waterfall, dotted with orchids on both sides, all the way to the top, was amazing (and my inability to get a clear shot gives an inkling of the crowds):

The displays by this florist are always one of my favorites, and the color wheel arrangement of orchids on the table did not disappoint.

The crowds, our exhaustion, and a drastically-changed layout from prior years really interfered with our ability to see the entire thing. Although we thought we viewed everything, I was most distressed to learn that I had missed an entire wall made of lettuce heads, arranged in a pattern.

Unfortunately for my dad but fortunately for me, however, Secondo and I got to return to the show this evening after it closed to help my mom retrieve their show entry plants. This meant a rare chance to see it with no crowds, though we had to look sharp for forklifts. (Unfortunately for my dad, because he is in the hospital with pneumonia; get well soon, dad!)

Some of the exhibits were already well-dismantled by the time we walked around; only holes and a few scattered petals attested to the fact that beautiful displays were there just an hour before.

Enough were still remaining that we felt like we got a second bite at the apple, though, including a much better picture of the waterfall, from a different angle, with helpful kid included for scale:

I found this beautiful gate, which I hadn't spotted yesterday though I know I walked past it:

And best of all, we found the wall of lettuce!

This garden display, mounted by the Philadelphia Horticultural Society to publicize their Community Gardens program, was one of my favorite in the show (though it obviously had nothing to do with Hawaii). The cold frame boxes—which I have been meaning to build for myself since we moved here 10 years ago—were drool-worthy.

Same for the overhead trellis, which on closer inspection proved to be loaded with ripening cherry tomatoes!

This display alone was well worth the return visit; the price of several trips on a freight elevator was a small one to pay.

apple pie cake

Shearing day is tomorrow and I have been busy getting food ready for the people who are coming, both to help and to watch. We are going with brunch-type foods this year, as we only have 10 sheep to shear and I think we will be done relatively quickly. At least, that's the plan, although these things don't always go according to plan.

I have a strata chilling in the fridge to bake tomorrow, and my dad will be bringing his egg specialty; both recipes are available on a post from way back in 2008. (Geez, guess we'd better vary the menu a little!) Fresh strawberries and pineapple are cleaned and cut. Sausage links and cinnamon buns in a can will be cooked/baked tomorrow morning, and guests will be bringing donuts and bagels. It will be quite a spread!

We have one dish that I have to make no matter what the menu (brunch or lunch), because our excellent shearer Hoyt has issued a standing request for it. I don't want to chance Hoyt not coming back, so I always include it. Luckily it is a dead-easy recipe and a family favorite as well. If I am ever stuck for a dessert, chances are that I have all the ingredients for this and can whip it up quickly.

(Please excuse the lack of photos of all the ingredients but it is the day before shearing! I figure if you are able to read this blog, you know what baking soda and sugar look like. No need to show the steps either, as you just bung everything into the mixing bowl, almost all at the same time. The hardest part is peeling the apples.)

Apple Pie Cake (aka Shearer's Delight)
½ C softened butter  
2 C sugar
2 eggs
2 t vanilla
1 C white flour
1 C whole wheat flour
2 t baking soda
1 t nutmeg
1 t salt
2 t cinnamon
¼ C hot water
5 C peeled and diced apples

Cream together butter and sugar. Mix in remainder of ingredients except the apples. Once ingredients are well blended, stir in apples. Bake in greased and floured pan (I use vegetable oil spray) at 350 degrees F for 1 hour or until toothpick comes out clean.

You can sprinkle powdered sugar on the top

if you want to jazz it up a little.

The visual results are rather unprepossessing but the smell and taste are not... It will be a challenge to keep the boys away from it until it is cut and served tomorrow!

barn clean: check

Despite the fact that I feel well behind the eight ball, the fact remains: sheep wait for no man (or woman, for that matter, they don't discriminate). Our shearing date is this coming Saturday. It seems a bit early in the calendar, but I am thrilled that we are getting the coats and fleeces off prior to lambing at the end of the month. It is so much easier, for us and the lambs, not to have to deal with all that wool!

The first order of business was getting the barn clean. The weekend was a complete write-off as far as time for this task, but the boys rose to the occasion after school and track practice and various other activities.

Light spilling out of barn doors: one of the coziest sights I know.

The older two worked on the pitching out the old hay.

They put Terzo in charge of loading feed bags into a trashcan, which he did his way, which involved using a hoe to violently tamp down the bags into the can.

I am not sure the trash guys will be able to dump them out now, but at least they are mostly gone from the barn. How do they manage to build up in such great quantities?

Dusty wanted to stay out with the boys and kept trying to sneak back into the barn, but he is on a short leash (figuratively speaking) after running down the county road after Primo's bus the other morning. He is obviously OK, but he nearly gave Primo—he called me frantically from the bus—and me heart attacks. He has become much worse about roaming freely since Charlie left us, as if Charlie was a tether that kept him closer to home. We are keeping a close eye on him until he gets it out of his system.