Interesting eyes on this rugged, gnarled face.

Twin lambs

This morning as I settled into position for the morning milking, I heard new voices complaining in the stall across the barn aisle. Hmm. Interesting. My sleep brain hadn't yet grasped the significance when a scuffle began. The disturbance upset the cow, and that's sufficient cause for me to set the milk bucket aside and deal most harshly with the culprits. Usually.

This morning there was good reason for the disruption. When multiple species live together, such as they do in our barn and pastures, the dynamics can become interesting. Relationships are formed, and there are cultural clashes as one group's instincts class with another's. Such was the case in the barn today. Tinkerbell, the ewe, stood in the corner with the firstborn twin, who was frustrated with his wobbly legs and complaining vigorously. Nearby, Katrinka, our goat herd queen, stood guard over the second twin lamb. Katrinka hasn't had kids in several years, but each new birth in our mixed herd revives her mothering instincts. She's become the herd midwife, so to speak. She's present for the birth, helps clean up the babies, and helps deal with the afterbirth. She might even murmur encouragement throughout the long labor for all I know. Or those soft baas might be something less complimentary. Who knows? She's also a formidable protector, much to the dismay of the three farmcollies, who'd really like to lick the babies and stand guard over them, too. And the rest of the small herd? They hovered close, creating a 'safe zone' that no dog shall pass.

Most mothers know, however, that there comes a point when the well-meaning assistance and hovering become too much. So I shooed the rest of the herd into the pasture and shut the barn door. The dogs were ordered away as well, and I returned to my morning chores. Later in the day, when the usual newborn tasks had been attended to and the twins' bellies were full, I weighed them. Much to my surprise, their combined weight was 10 pounds. I expected less because neither looks as big as a half-grown kitten. Babydoll Southdown lambs are tiny when born, with ears that look too big for their gangly, fuzzy bodies. Their soft wool is usually coated with lanolin, so they look messy for the first week or so. These two have a bit of dirt rubbed into the lanolin as well since their mother chose to give birth in the dust near the pasture door instead of the deep straw further inside.

Indian Paintbrush

Just down the road there's a patch of prairie, blooming with native flowers. It's owned by a friendly neighbor who doesn't mind me wandering about, snapping photos. About a week ago, the Indian Paintbrush hit it's prime, and its bright splashes of color dominated the field. This week, the yellows and blues are gradually taking over.

Out for a stroll

The goslings have outgrown their day pen, so today I let them run free in the yard. They particularly like the shady leaf litter behind the henhouse.

Not enough roses

The sweet, heavy fragrance of the early wild rose blossoms can't cover the nasty odor from Bebe's most recent skunk encounter. She tried rubbing it off in the grass, rolling in the straw, and rolling in the creek. Late yesterday afternoon she finally settled down to pout under this creekside patch of wild roses.

Spring peeper!

Technically it's a gray treefrog, Missouri's most common species of treefrog. I tracked it by sound to this perch on the rip of our above-ground pool. Since it sounded more like "a birdlike, musical trill" than "a buzzer", I concluded, with the help of the Missouri Department of Conservation's website that my visitor is an eastern gray treefrog (Hyla Versicolor) and not a Cope's gray treefrog (Hyla Chrysoscelis). Judging from the evening chorus, the swampy pond just downhill from the house is frequented by hundreds of eastern gray treefrogs.

They're back!

The hummingbirds and indigo buntings have returned to my terrace garden. The buntings perch on the end of a gutter to survey the area. Next stop is this bit of decorative ironwork. When they're sure it's safe, they proceed to the bird feeder for a meal. The hummingbirds aren't dining at our place yet because I haven't located all the parts to their feeder.

Bad weed!

Very bad weed! Hundreds of these young burdock plants have appeared in the pasture, the gardens, in full sun and shade. Sure, they look innocent now. And yes, I know the mature roots are edible and even useful in therapeutic preparations. (More about that another day...)

It's the burrs that cause the problems. They're often called cockleburrs, though that's not correct. The cockleburr comes from a different plant, though the burrs are about the same size and cause as much trouble. Last fall I spent hours untangling the burdock variety of burr trouble from the dogs' coats. The goats' beards turned into tangled, matted messes in one afternoon of grazing, so I took the easy way out and cut their beards off. The sheep? Well...that was just sad...they'd have been embarrassed if they'd been allowed mirrors.

The babysitter

The goslings took their first swim this afternoon while I cleaned the brooder. Ralphie, our English Shepherd, stayed close and guarded them from the gang of bully roosters. He wouldn't let the other dogs come near either.

Peeps!

This morning I got the call as I was heading to the barn to milk the cow. My peeps had arrived at the local post office on the morning truck.

The 22 turkey poults and 8 goslings made the trip from the hatchery well and are settling in nicely. The turkeys are Kardosh Bronzes, a strain of standard bronze turkeys. Kardosh Bronzes are large turkeys, not as large as the broad-breasted types grown commercially for supermarket sales, but a lot sturdier. These will able to reproduce naturally. (Commercial broad-breasted types must be artificially inseminated because selective breeding for the 'optimum' breast has created birds that aren't capable of natural insemination.) The Kardosh Bronzes have longer legs and a sturdy, proportionate bone structure. The color is similar to that of wild turkeys, beautiful, with a metallic glimmer to the feathers when the light strikes them at the proper angle. A few years ago, I had the opportunity to talk with Frank Reese Jr., a long-time breeder of Kardosh Bronzes and friend of Norm Kardosh, who developed the strain. One of Frank's huge young toms followed us through the poultry yards, puffing and displaying. The late morning light reflecting off his feathers reminded me of the sheen of a new penny.

The goslings are American Buffs, a breed listed as critically rare by the American Livestock Breeds Conservancy. Buffs are generally calm and docile, I'm told. We'll see. My previous experiences with geese could not be described in those terms. I'm willing to play nice if they will.

The Kardosh Bronze turkey poults can't stand still for more than a second. They're healthy, alert, and busily exploring every inch of the old hog waterer we recycled into a brooder pen a few years ago.

These American Buff goslings will spend their first week in the hose-out brooder. My genius husband built this brooder from the shell of our old dishwasher. It's the easiest to clean and sanitize - a big plus. Waterfowl babies are MESSY! It's also the most heat efficient of our brooders. 

Gooseberry blossoms

 

Lavender fields?

Fields covered with large swaths of lavender-tinted flowers are a common sight in rural Missouri this time of year. Pretty weeds, that's all they are. Just henbit. You probably have a few here and there in your yard. They're not particularly noticible in small numbers.

Henbit (Lamium amplexicaule) is a winter annual that grows from 4 to 12 inches tall. It's one of those weeds that serves a useful purpose in my opinion. It covers the ground in the winter and holds the soil in place, but it's not that difficult to eradicate in the spring when it's time for something else to grow there. It spreads only by seeds, likes moist areas, and seems to thrive in sun or shade. It's one of the earliest plants to green up in the spring, and thus drew the attention of our Jersey cow, who appreciates a tasty snack on the way back to the barn in the evening.

A closer look.

A different view, showing the leaves. Henbit blooms in late winter and early spring. It started in late January here at the farm and didn't seem too bothered by freezing weather.

Wild strawberries

Several patches of wild strawberries are blooming in the back pasture. The majority grow among a couple of burnt-out blackberry patches the wildfires cleared this winter. They're also near the cedars, at the edge of a plum thicket, and scattered here and there among the grass. Judging from the number of buds on most plants, this will be a bumper crop year. Just the thought of that intense flavor makes my mouth water. If I'm really lucky and really fast, I might even beat the local wildlife to a few berries when they ripen. 

Apparently nobody told this young apple tree it didn't have to bloom its first spring on site. The variety is William's Pride. We planted it last November. Precocious, isn't it?  

Got an itch!

Weekend projects

The answer to the surprise quiz picture: milking stanchion. (It was a surprise to me that I couldn’t upload the text.) My genius husband combined ideas from several designs and built this one, which suits me perfectly. Lottie Le Cow is less impressed but adjusting to the new stanchion, new stall, and new routine. We’d intended to leave the side open for easy feeding and cleanout. However, Wilbur Le Sheep hopped inside and christened it in a manner which feed boxes should not be christened. So my husband added the horizontal boards to prevent a repeat performance. The feed pans will still slide under the bottom slat, and now there’s a bonus feature – an escape ladder!