It is official. Yesterday, marked one week post move and I am happy to report, we’re all still here. Well, that’s not entirely true. Some of the fleas are still here too, and I am not as thrilled about that. But hey, pulling one flea off the cats is a vast improvement over fifty.
For the first several days following our move, my husband was off work. As of Monday though, he was back to his daily grind, so I have had a chance to properly assess what a typical day looks like for me here on the farm. Once my darling plumber is off to protect the health and safety of the surrounding cities, the farm chores begin.
As you may have gathered from my first post, we have a small flock of chickens and two lovely ducks. These girls receive my attention first. Due to the number of wild residents out there on and around our fifty-six acres, the ladies all get securely locked in at night. This means once the sun starts to peak over the horizon, I like to get them promptly turned out into the morning light. They all exit their overnight chambers ready to stretch their wings and chow down on their morning rations. That is the other thing; I put food up at night, so predators don’t have extra reason to go investigating their pasture. The girls roam in a grassy field, but I like to provide a feed to them to make sure they are always getting enough nutrients. There are also two separate water tubs I fill daily. Clean water is always a good idea. Especially, with ducks. You really can’t let their water go. Ducks are incredibly good at getting themselves and everything around them covered or filled with mud and debris. They shovel all sorts of things into their beaks and then use the water to filter out the mud and whatever else they don’t actually intend to consume. So. Fresh water always.
Next up are the cows. Yes, the cows we knew we must have adorning our new farm. Rosie is the younger one. She isn’t even full grown. Now that she knows we bring the morning feed, she comes running at our sight, but always stops a good distance away until we leave. She isn’t sure about people yet. I don’t think she has had much handling, but I am hoping she’ll come around.
Charlotte, on the other hand, is about as friendly as they come. She is roughly four years old and was bottle fed as a calf(she is expecting a calf as well, so that will be fun to report on in the next few weeks). If you aren’t careful, she’ll come clear up and give you a playful headbutt. Seeing as she is a full-grown cow, that has it’s risks, so we are mindful to keep an eye on her. But she is about as lovey as they come. She loves to be petted and follow her people around. About the time I am coming out to the barn, they are just coming in from the pasture. I prance out to their feed tubs and dump out their breakfast, then prance away as they bound in. Once those two are munching happily, I make sure to check their water trough as well. Depending on the weather, sometimes they drink more, sometimes less, but I top it off each morning and each evening for good measure.
Okay, birds are set. Cows are happy. Now time for the cats. Not the inside cats, of which we do have five. No, no. Perhaps I didn’t mention that upon moving in, we also discovered a small colony of feral cats living under the house. Indeed. Most of them are completely wild and won’t let you get closer than a few feet, but it is clear they are used to being fed. This development presented me with a very unique and difficult situation to contend with. You see, I love cats, but five is really the maximum number that my house or my budget can confidently care for well. I absolutely could not kill them or trap them and dump them somewhere else(not even sure how I would trap them). So for the time being, I am putting food out for them in the barn in the hopes they will start living out there instead of under the house(I am sure this is in no small way related to the number of fleas), and I have a call in to the nearby humane society who will supposedly come trap them, spay/neuter, vaccinate/treat and return them. Unfortunately, I have been told they are unadoptable, so this seems like the best option for the time being. And to be honest, I have already gotten attached.
Last, but not least on the barnyard schedule are the horses. My horse can be a bit pushy about food. As a matter of fact, I have never seen him move so fast as when he hears the rustle of a bag he thinks might contain feed. There are only two horses here. One is mine and the other is an aging mare belonging to a friend. She is here for now, to make sure Smokey(my gelding) doesn’t get lonely. They are herd animals, so it’s nice to make sure they aren’t by themselves. Eventually, I will probably let him buddy up with the cows, but I am waiting until Charlotte and her calf are settled. Anyway, since Smokey isn’t naturally patient when it comes to food, I force his hand(hoof?) and make him the last stop. I also tie him up to ensure his nose stays in its own feed tub and doesn’t wander over to his pasture mate’s. Like I said, there are only two horses so they have tons of grass filled pasture to graze 24/7. I give only a small amount of feed to get them in the habit of coming up in the morning. This gives me a chance to check everyone over for injuries or signs of illness and if I am going to tack Smokey up for a ride, it saves me having to walk who knows how far to bring him in, since this keeps them used to hanging around the barn in the morning hours. Once both horses have finished their food, I untie Smokey and give them time to go get a drink and walk about a bit. Then I will either move on or pull Smokey out of the pasture and toss a saddle on him so we can go make our rounds.
I have had Smokey for about a year and a half now, and he has come a long way. This time last year, he was pretty unruly and I didn’t have the tools or confidence to effectively work with him. I partnered up with a great trainer(the ones who own the mare) and it made a huge difference. But being that he is still pretty young in his training and is not yet what I would consider a well-seasoned mount, I make a point of getting him out most days to go check fences. Unless, we have serious weather that might bring a tree down, the fences aren’t likely to spontaneously break, but it is a good habit to have and it gives Smokey a job, which is a big deal in keeping his mind right. Smokey has a habit of testing me, every time I have moved him to a new barn. It usually takes a few weeks to get passed. We will ride out and he will walk really slow, or try to stop and turn around. His goal is to get back to his friend and the tasty grass. My goal is to keep him moving forward. Right now, he is really the best way for me to get around the property and check everything out without walking it myself. It takes less than half the time using his legs, than it would using mine. He is a seventeen hand draft cross and I am all of 5′ 1″.
Once me and my(almost?) trusty steed return from our rounds, it’s time to move indoors. I’ll keep this short, because honestly it isn’t very interesting. Right now my indoor chores really just consist of three tasks on repeat. ALL. DAY. LONG. Laundry. Flea comb. Vaccuum. When you battle fleas, something happens in your mind. There is an obsessive drive to destroy them entirely. And until I feel confident that enemy has been obliterated, I cannot cook, I cannot unpack. I cannot rest. I can only clean. As a matter of fact, I must go because if I am not mistaken, I think it is about vacuum o’clock.
