Winter Is Coming

When Autumn comes around it seems like all hell breaks loose on the farm. Currently the farmer and I are awaiting the arrival of about 50 or so lambs, the farmer is also busy in the fields and working late nights, further more, to top it all off the farmer has wood to cut and a water line to finish for the barn. All of this must be done before winter or else there will be some troubles.

The Lambs...
Waiting for lambs to be born is a constant stress on ones nerves. Everyday when I go out to the barn I expect to see a few lambs or even a ewe giving birth, this has yet to happen. We have only 2 lambs so far, twins, that were born early while the farmer and I were out of town. The rest should have followed about a week later, but yet here we are nearly 6 weeks later and still the twins are the only 2 out there. The farmer of course has become impatient and has therefore thrown a ram in with the ewes to see if that will help the situation, or at least insure that everyone is pregnant for the January lambing.

The Water Line...
The farmer and the senior farmer, aka his dad, decided that they needed to dig in a water line to the barn before winter comes. Now, I was most excited about this because all summer I have had to drag 4 hoses out to the barn from the house in order to water the animals everyday. This new water line would mean that they could have fresh water all winter without it freezing, as the farmers were going to bury the pipe very deep into the ground. As they were digging I reminded them that the recently buried internet cable was right in the path that they were going. Just as I had said, 'Don't cut the internet cable' and went inside, 10 minutes later they came in to inform me that they had indeed cut the internet cable. Fortunately, my stepfather works for Bell and therefore was able to come out and fix the cable right away, but I still had to chuckle at the timing of it all.

The Fire Wood...
The farmer has most of the wood cut for the winter to keep us warm, but there is a foreboding pile still left in the barn yard. These logs had been cut down by the farmer in the summer, and he had brought them home in order to cut them into smaller pieces and split them for the winter. As he was cutting the trees down however he neglected to be cautious of the vines that were climbing all over the trees. As you can imagine he was in quite the discomfort when he realized it was poison ivy and the itchy red rash began sprouting up all over his body. This is honestly the worst case of poison ivy I have seen. The farmer was covered head to toe in the stuff and it seemed to keep coming for weeks. It seemed like no amount of benadryl, calamine lotion, or oatmeal treatments could soothe his itchy skin. Finally after about a month and a half the rash cleared up but the farmer has still not touched the logs sitting in the barn yard since they are covered in, now dead, poison ivy vines.

It has been quite an eventful few months living with the farmer but it seems that we are almost prepared for winter at this point. Time will tell how the winter months will transpire, but living with the farmer I know that there is likely to be something to write about!

Sylvester

It seems that when it comes to caring for animals I always happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The Farmer and I recently acquired a kitten, we named him Sylvester. He didn't even have his eyes open yet so we gathered that he was only a few days old, but his mother had abandoned him in the barn and so we brought him home. The Farmer taught me how to feed him using a syringe and to make him go to the bathroom (I was unaware that they couldn't go on their own so this came as a bit of a shock to me).

Sylvester was doing quite well in his little box surrounded by towels and all cozy and warm. The dog however did not know what to make of Sylvester and therefore would sniff him and lick him every time he got the chance. It seemed that Sylvester was going to grow and be a house cat and a friend for our every growing dog. But then one day I went to grab Sylvester to feed him and as I picked him up I found that his little body was lifeless.

I called the Farmer to let him know the bad news and he immediately started calling me the Cat Killer. I asked him what he wanted me to do with Sylvester and the Farmer informed me that I should build a wooden cross that said RIP SYLVESTER and bury him by the field in the back. Now you have to understand that the Farmer was joking about this but much to his dismay I did exactly what he asked. The dog and I took Sylvester in a shoe box to the back field, dug a hole, said a few words, and buried the little kitten.

Later that night the Farmer pointed out to me that I always happened to be the one around when animals passed away. I noted to him that of all the times I had been around it had never been my fault that the animals had died. This did not seem to lighten his spirits and as such he told me that I maybe should not be left alone with the animals. I'll be honest I did not object to this as I did feel a bit of guilt over the last few animals I had had in my care. We shall see how long this lasts though as I expect sooner or later there will be another animal I will be in charge of, but until then I think I will let the farmer handle things.

A Farmer in his Natural Habitat

I've decided that the farmer is a very curious creature. He gets up at the crack of dawn to tend to the animals, or sow seed. He comes home late at night, after making sure that all the creatures are fed and taken care of. He works hard all day, in the hot sun or the blistering cold. Farmers know or know of, every other farmer for concessions around, and they know who owned the farm before. They give you directions by telling you to go past so and so's field, or what's-his-name's feedlot. Farmer's go on crop tours, to see how everyone else's fields are doing.

I have seen my husband, the farmer, take a newborn lamb and nurse it back to health. I have seen him upset, ticked off and frustrated because he couldn't save an animal. I have seen him so tired that he can barely keep his eyes open and yet he somehow musters the energy to go and check on the flock.

Farmers can change tires, plow fields, get kicked by cows, get spit on and pooped on, and yet still have a gentle touch when it comes to a wounded animal. They grow food, they give up time with their family so that others can spend supper with theirs, and they get little to no thanks for it.

It seems to me that farmers are capable of almost anything. They are kind, strong and caring, they take pride in what they do, and they do it because they love it. Farmers do what they do because they love it. They love being in nature, they love the animals that they care for, and they grew up knowing that all they ever wanted to be was a farmer. They are indeed very curious creatures, and yet I happen to be married to one, so I suppose that makes me a bit of a curious creature myself.

Puppy Mischief

I've come to realize something about having a lamb in my living room.. it's a pain in the butt! The issue is not so much the lamb itself but rather where she has inhabited... the dog's crate. This becomes a problem because the dog now has free reign over the living room and the kitchen, while my husband and I are at work through the day. My experience with this type of situation tells me that it is not a good thing. Before I left for work every morning this week I had pushed everything back on the counters, removed anything I thought that he would damage and made sure all the doors were shut. As I came to find out, that didn't matter much.
On the first day when I got home from work, I found pieces of fabric scattered all over the floor in the living room. He had chewed holes in two blankets... for this he was smacked. The blankets were then removed from the couch and put in a secure, undisclosed location.
On the second day when I got home from work, again there were more pieces of fabric strewn around the living room. This time it was from the towel that had been put in the crate with the lamb.. at least I assume that's what it was, as all the pieces were so small that you could no longer call it a towel but more of a rag. For this the dog was smacked, and the towels were removed from the crate.
On the third day when I got home from work, I found a mat laying in the middle of the living room with a very large hole in it. I picked this up and out of the corner of my eye noticed that he had found a new chew toy.... the rocking chair. We now own a rocking chair that is missing part of one of the rockers on the bottom. For this the dog was smacked (quite hard I might add). Not only did I smack him but when my husband got home and saw what he had done he was sent outside with a swift kick in the a$$.
This left us with a dilemma, the only thing left for the dog to chew was our couches and numerous cords for the TV. We sat down and thought about our options, but ultimately came to the conclusion that we would give him one more chance.
On the fourth day when I got home from work, I was expecting the worst. I sat in my car for a few minutes before I entered the house, mentally preparing myself for the war zone that awaited me. When I walked through the door the dog greeted me, tail wagging, as if to say "I was good today mom" and then he led me into the living room... where everything was as I had left it in the morning.
Now you can imagine with the past couple of days being utter destruction that I was a little shell shocked and doubtful. I searched the room high and low to see what he had done, but I came up with nothing! I couldn't believe it, he had actually left everything intact!
On the fourth night the lamb went back to the barn, and the dog got his crate back. My house is back to being the way it was, and all is well in the house.... for now.

Little Bo Peep

A couple of days ago, my husband asked me if I could feed the sheep and administer a shot to one of the ewes we have that had recently lambed. Now, what you have to understand, is that although I feel quite comfortable around the sheep, I have yet to give a needle to any of them! He reassured me that his sister (who is a vet tech), would accompany me and show me how to do it properly. The ewe in question had mastitis and therefore needed antibiotics to fix the problem so that she could feed her newly born lamb, who by the way, was bahhing obnoxiously when we entered the barn. We took a look at the ewe, and the very knowledgeable vet tech showed me how to properly inject the medicine. We left the ewe to go to feed and water the rest of the flock and prepare a bottle of milk for her lamb. When we came back the ewe had still not moved from where she had been when we left her. We both clambered up over the gate and stood beside her looking down. Now, I am no vet but I could tell that something was not right, and lo and behold, the vet tech confirmed my suspicions by saying "no, no, she's dead".

 Sadly, the first thing that came to my mind was "how the hell am I going to tell my husband that we killed her!?". Then I looked down and saw a tiny lamb nudging her mothers lifeless body, and my next thought was "oh crap". I called my husband and told him the bad news, to which he replied with a very colourful array of profanity and ended the conversation with, "well you're just going to have to bring the lamb home." Now you can imagine that to most people having a lamb in your living room would seem quite absurd, and 3 or 4 years ago I would have been one of those people. Yet here I am with a lamb, in a large tupperware box, in my living room, by the fire.

For the first 5 minutes, the lamb seemed quite content to stay in the box, straw underneath her, cozy and warm... unfortunately this did not last. She quickly learned that she could escape from the box by simply hopping over the side, and next thing I knew I had a lamb running through my living room and kitchen and trying to drink milk (rather unsuccessfully I might add) from our male puppy... he in fact did not find this amusing in the least. For the rest of the afternoon I found myself scrambling to clean up pee, while simultaneously attempting to keep my dog from killing his new friend. Finally I decided that the lamb would have to be kept in the crate that we had recently bought for our puppy. I put her in the crate with blankets underneath her and the box pushed into one corner so that she could sleep on the straw..... and finally as the dog, the lamb and I settled in to watch a movie, all was quiet....for now.

In the Beginning

When I was young, if you would have asked me if I would marry a farmer, I would have laughed in your face. I never expected to marry at all for that matter, and yet here I am. I suppose when you meet the right person they can change your mind about certain things. Although I grew up in a rural community, I never lived on a farm, and had been to an actual farm maybe only half a dozen times. Although my father was raised on a dairy farm he never continued farming and so I was raised quite removed from the farm experience. Needless to say when I first started going to the farm with my husband it was quite an interesting experience. I was bombarded by new smells (most were not so pleasant), and new sounds (I challenge you not to laugh when you hear a ewe for the first time), yet I felt quite comfortable in this new setting. I can imagine my husband and his cousin (who he farms with) getting very much annoyed, with the amount of questions I asked the first year. I felt like a 6 year old following their mother or father around constantly asking 'Why?'. But alas, here I am a few years later the wife of a farmer. I have to admit that I am very much enjoying it. Although I am going to school still, I find that the farm gives me a sense of purpose and it distracts me from the stresses of school and life. It is a more simple lifestyle and it gives you a sense of accomplishment. The beauty of the farm life (among other things) is that I get to see my husband 'Macgyver' just about everything around here into something useful. Often times I find myself wondering how he came up with certain ideas, but then I look at his father who is a creative man, and I find myself then wondering how I lived without certain things. Needless to say between my husband, our dog and the many animals that I come into contact with on a daily basis, I often cannot stop myself from laughing uncontrollably at the things I see or hear. Although there is often much work to be done, this life I have found myself submersed in, is a fulfilling and beautiful one, and quite humorous to boot. These are my stories, and how living the farm life has changed me for the better.