A Weekend During Calving Season

April 15, 2010

“We don’t have a problem-free herd yet,” I said.

Dad and I locked 534 in the catch chute in the corral.  We opened up the side gate and put the calf up to its mother’s teat.  It was 24 hours old and no longer had a great desire to nurse.

Dad worked 534’s teat with his hand. He squirted milk onto and into the calf’s mouth, which he held open with his other hand.  The warm milk stimulated the calf and this time he latched onto the tip of the over-large teat when Dad placed it into his mouth.

—–

“I’ll bring the 4-wheeler into the corral if you open the gate,” I said.

I was moving 672 into a side pen with her twins so that we could get 619 into the catch chute and pull her calf, which was coming breach.  672 was a protective mother; which also made her difficult to move on foot.

—–

“How’s everything,” I said.

“Fair,” Dad said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, 3127 had a calf yesterday afternoon.  I swear it had white on its legs.  Tismorning 3127 had a red calf with her.”

“You think she had twins and left one?” I said.

“Yeah, I was just looking for it.  But maybe I saw the placenta and it looked white on the calf’s legs.”

“Which was it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s go look again.”

The calf with white on its legs was laying alone in the woods where it was born.

“I’ll pick it up and you can carry it on the 4-wheeler.  Are you going to take it to the barn or to the corral?”

“The barn.  I’ll tube it first.  Then we can decide what to do with it.”

—–

“We lost a calf in the creek last night,” Dad said.

“Shit.  Which one?”

“103.  She walked all around the pasture yesterday and had to have it next to the creek last night.”

“And that cold rain didn’t help.  Do you want to put the twin on her?”

—–

Our corral was full.  103 was in a pen with her foster calf.  672 was in a pen with her twins.  534 was in a pen with her calf.  619 was in the alleyway with her calf.


Farmer Genius

April 12, 2010

This is a guest post from my good friend, James Miller.  James grew up on a hog and dairy farm near Wiota, Wisconsin.

James authors the blog Quantum Devices Inc.

Comment and let James know what you think of his Dad’s ingenuity.

“How much do you want for the radiator out of the old Chevelle?”

This was my Dad, so I’d like to be able to say that I told him he could just have it.  After all, he was the man who milked cows twice a day, every day, to feed and raise us. He was also the man who paid the $326 for the speeding ticket when I was pulled over for doing 96 miles and hour in the family Bonneville.

I’d like to tell you that I just gave it to him, but I was a kid and went more like:

“How’s twenty bucks sound?”

I never even bothered to ask why he wanted it.

The next day I noticed that there was a section of garden hose strung from the old well to somewhere down in the basement of the house.  Another long section of hose ran back out of the basement into a dry dusty field.

I walked out into the field and saw the hose had been punctured so that, instead of water gushing out the threaded brass end of the hose, it trickled out evenly all along it’s length.

Dad was using the water from the old well to irrigate the field.

I walked back to where the hoses entered the basement and flipped on the cobweb covered ceramic light switch.  I followed the two hoses down the steep and narrow concrete steps. They led to the furnace where they both connected to the old radiator.  The radiator was temporarily fastened to the air intake of the furnace.  The furnace’s blower was running, drawing air in past the fins of the radiator and distributing the cold air though the house.

Dad had made a poor man’s version of air conditioning.

Here were the problems Dad had faced:

It was a particularly hot, dry summer, and it was difficult for mom to cook large “meat and potatoes” meals for the field help in the sweltering kitchen.

There was the even larger problem of no rain, which besides making it difficult to grow the crops, could also lead to wind erosion of the top soil.

Some people may have spent some money on a window air conditioner, or even converted the furnace over to central air.  Some may have even paid someone to come in and irrigate the field.

But Dad, like most good farmers, was both thrifty and clever.  I think that all those who tend to land and cattle have to have a certain level of farmer ingenuity that, in its higher moments, borders on genius.

So what is Farmer Genius?

Farmer Genius doesn’t check out a library book, know how to play an instrument, or the difference between Shakespeare and Voltaire. Since animals can’t read, Farmer Genius doesn’t really concern itself with spelling. I remember mom pointing out an ice cream bucket in the machine shed, saying “Look at that bucket of ‘NIALS’” over there.

Farmer Genius doesn’t know what happens when two vowels go walking.

Instead, Farmer Genius tends to be one of physicality and inherent understanding of math and physics, where one can mentally work out the right answer but not be able to prove with paper and pencil. Farmer Genius understands how a discarded shopping bag blowing across a field can frighten cattle into running through fences.  Farmer genius knows whether an engine is running rich or lean by the smell of the exhaust.  Farmer Genius doesn’t pay too much attention to the labels given to “screwdriver” and “hammer”; but instead sees everything and anything can be part of his toolbox.

During calving, Farmer Genius knows the moment when you need to tie the twine to the calf’s front legs to assist in pulling it from the mother; and do it in a manner that causes no harm to the calf or the cow.

The Farmer has a strict sense of right and wrong, but Genius is the part that always chooses to do right.

Dad’s Farmer Genius solved the problems a hot summer presented by using only what was on hand; an old well, some garden hoses, and a kid who would give up a radiator for twenty bucks.


Pruning to Improve Fruit Production

April 8, 2010

John 15:1-2  Jesus speaking.  “I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener.  He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.”

Luke 6: 43-45  Jesus speaking.  “No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit.  Each tree is recognized by its own fruit.  People do not pick figs from thornbushes, or grapes from briers.  The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart.  For out of the overflow of his heart his mouth speaks.”

I’m 41 years old and I’m pruning, for the first time in my life.  I freely admit that I’m not sure what I’m doing; but I’m glad to be doing it.

I may be pruning too much or incorrectly; but so little fruit was produced, I no longer feel much pressure.

I like that success will be measured by the fruit that is produced.


My Mammoth Ass Saved My Butt!

April 1, 2010

“Yow!” I said, as Wilma bit my arm.

Wilma is a Mammoth Ass.

Wilma’s been with me for a year and she was starting to grow on me. But a donkey that bites…

I held back tears as I drove to the local clinic.

“It’s funny Doc.  I was gonna come in and have you take a look at this spot on my arm, but I never got around to it.”

“It’s kind of hard to see with the injury and all, but I think we’ll take a sample just to be on the safe side.  You get a lot of sun, don’t you?”

Turns out I had Basal Cell Carcinoma. A little anesthesia and a snip and I was good as new.

I got to thinking about Wilma and the way she acted before she bit me.  She likes to nuzzle my arms and stick her nose in my armpit.  This time she seemed nervous and kept sniffing the spot on my arm.

I did a little research.  Turns out dogs are being used to sniff out some types of cancer.

My entrepreneurial spirit took over.  I placed an ad in the local “Shopping News.”

“Skin cancer screening while you wait!  Convenient, affordable!  Matthew Walter, phone.”

So far, Wilma and I have had five clients at 20 bucks a pop.  All  have been benign; although we had one false positive.  A guy had a pack of “Juicy Fruit” in his shirt pocket.



Red is the New Black

March 29, 2010

“RANG Heifers?  What kind of breed is that?” Dad said.

“No idea.  Maybe it stands for range?”  I said.

We were looking at a sale report from March 19th for Monroe, Wisconsin.

The best-selling Angus heifers brought $93.50 per hundred lbs. at an average weight of 682 lbs.  The best-selling Angus steers brought $99 per hundred lbs. at an average weight of 750 lbs.  The best-selling Crossbred heifers brought $93 per hundred lbs. at an average weight of 682 lbs.

The RANG cattle blew them out of the water.  653 lb. heifers brought $102 per hundred lbs.  757 lb. steers brought $105 per hundred lbs.  That’s about 50 dollars higher per head.

We had topped the March 12th sale at Bloomington, Wisconsin.  Our red heifers brought $102.50 at an average weight of 666 lbs.

Our heifers are not purebred.  Dad raised Shorthorns all his life as his Dad did before him.  We grew disgusted, however, with the Shorthorn breed’s emphasis on the showring and the addition of Maine-Anjou genetics to the Shorthorn breed in the 90’s.  We tried using Maine/Shorthorn bulls; but decided to do something different when we found ourselves pulling big, dead, calves out of cows.

We started using Red Angus bulls.  Rah-rah Red Angus!  Calving ease improved and raising cattle was fun again.

We have been using Red Angus bulls exclusively for over the past ten years.  We have been using bulls from Leland Red Angus and James Red Angus for the past five years.  I wrote about our selection criteria in my post,  “Selection: A Force for Change.”

The bulb in my head lit up.  “I know what RANG stands for. Red Angus!”


Reputation Selling Heifers

March 26, 2010

“Would you take 650 a head for the entire group?” Greg said.

“We would,” Dad said.  “But we’ve got guys coming to the sale. And I told Kevin I’m bringing them.  And Bloomington advertised already.”

“Yeah,” I said.  “I wished we could have talked a week ago.  We’ll definitely call you next year.  I didn’t realize you bought cattle in the spring.”

“Whenever.  Whenever there are good cattle to be bought,” John said.

“Do you think we made the right decision,” Dad said.

“Yeah, it’s our reputation,” I said.  “It’s probably going to cost us about 2,000 dollars, though.”

“How do you figure?”

“I figure they’ll bring about 600 dollars net at the sale barn.  So 50 dollars a head times 40 head equals 2,000 dollars.”

“I guess that sounds about right,” Dad said.  “Would could we do?  We’ve made a commitment.”

“And we’re in this business for the long haul.  So even if it costs us a couple thousand short-term, we can make it up long-term by having consistently good cattle that people want to buy.  Let’s call it an investment in our future.”

As our hay supply dwindled and the groundhog didn’t see his shadow, we thought about selling our yearling heifers.  We planned to select the heifers we wanted to breed and keep for cows and then offer the rest privately for farmers to add to their cowherd.  Whatever was left would be sold at the local livestock auction.  We have been doing this ever since we improved our genetics using Red Angus bulls and have always had a positive response from farmers.

We placed an ad in the local Shopping News.  It read, “Yearling Red Angus replacement heifers for sale.  Matthew Walter, phone number.”

We ran the ad for three weeks and I received no calls the first week, two calls the second week, and four calls the third week.  Nibbles, but no bites.

It appeared that our price was a little high.  We were asking $700 a head.  The feeder calf market was soft in January and the first half of February.  Our best estimate was that we would get $500 to $550 a head at the sale barn.

One guy stopped in a couple of times and told us we were $100 too high.  We thanked him for his interest and told him we would tell him when we took them to the sale barn.

Dale stopped in and walked through them.  We could tell he was impressed when 978 walked up and licked his arm.  People are impressed by quiet cattle.

Dale was interested, but in the whole group.  He wanted us to call him when we took them to the sale barn.

We called Kevin at Bloomington a week in advance of the sale so he could advertise them.  We contacted a trucker to help us haul them.  Everything was lined up for the March 12th sale.  And then John and Greg stopped in and made us a great offer.

The very night after we declined Greg’s offer, Kevin called us to make sure we were bringing our heifers.  He said they had received calls and there was definitely some interest in them.  Dad and I were glad we weren’t going back on our word.

We sat and watched cattle sell.  There is always tremendous variation in the prices.  Four red heifers averaging 666 lbs., brought 95 cents per lb.  Five black heifers averaging 632 lbs., brought only 88 cents per lb.

Thirteen red heifers averaging 656 lbs., brought 99.5 cents per lb.  I hoped ours would bring that much.

Our heifers came in the ring.  They looked good.  Thirty-eight heifers averaging 666 lbs., brought 102.5 cents per lb.  Two small heifers averaging 420 lbs. , brought 112.5 cents per lb.  Dale was the winning bidder for all of them.

They averaged $672 each.  Even after commission and trucking was paid, we still made well over $650 each.

We were happy.  We made some money.  And more importantly, we stuck to our word and kept our reputation intact.


Tearing Out Fence

March 20, 2010

Dad is ok.  But we had an emotional St. Patrick’s Day.

Dad sat down on a pail to take a break while I used my chainsaw to cut some shrubs in the fence row  about ten feet away.  I was trying to avoid the barb wire, of course, but hit a wire that was embedded in the tall grass.  It broke and went flying into his face.

I gave him a ride home on the ATV and Mom took him to the local clinic where he received three stitches in his lip and a tetanus shot.  Mom took him to McDonald’s after that. He had a shamrock shake.

Dad was hurt at 2:30 and was back helping me clear out the fence row by 4.  We finished clearing the fence row by 6.  A quarter mile of fence cleared in a day and a half, even with an injury timeout.

Pictured below are the brace posts.  The brace posts are tied together with wire, with a brace between them.  This gives you something to pull against when stretching the barb wire.

The brace was traditionally placed at an angle.  But this results in one post being pushed out of the ground over time.   We place our brace  level and I will picture this when we make this fence new.

This is the old barb wire being rolled up.  Our neighbor was rolling up his barb wire on a barrel.  Dad said not many people know how to roll up barb wire.

The wire is on the ground and a hoop is formed and rolled along the ground crisscrossing the wire as you roll.  It doesn’t seem like rocket science to me; but I benefited from Dad’s teaching.

This is the worst stretch of fence because of all the brush that has grown up in it.  Dad wasn’t the only one to get hurt.  I sprained a tendon in my forearm trying to do too much, too fast.

We have been talking about replacing this fence for at least the last three years.  It was great to find some beautiful March weather to get after it.

Now it’s the first day of spring and it snowed.  This will give us a few days to heal until the ground is dry enough to put in the new fence.


Spring Arrives

March 17, 2010

Colors come when spring arrives,

Asparagus seed beneath the snow.

Violent thrust of rhubarb red,

Pushing up from down below.


Use It or Lose It

March 15, 2010

Compost tea made with 27 things,

Full of promise, friable and loose.

Shall we put the compost on the grass in the spring?

No let’s wait a little longer so it’s not used up.

Shall we disc the compost into April oat fields?

No let’s wait a little longer so it’s not used up.

Shall we plow the compost into May corn fields?

No let’s wait a little longer so it’s not used up.

Let’s stir the compost, let’s examine the tea.

It’s stronger and smaller, but it still smells sweet.

Shall we fertilize fields after hay’s put up?

No let’s wait a little longer so it’s not used up.

Shall we spread on new seeding after straw is made?

No let’s wait a little longer so it’s not used up.

Shall we sprinkle on pastures before an August rain?

No let’s wait a little longer so it’s not used up.

Everything is brown and harvest is complete,

Let’s put it on the fields before the snow is deep.

O farmer, tight farmer, you have waited too long.

The compost shrunk and the compost is gone.


March is the Mud Month

March 11, 2010

March is the mud month.

Returning geese, melting snow.

Rubber boots, wet gloves.

Pictured is our cowherd on their winter quarters.  We had them down to Dad’s most of the winter.  It was closer to the hay supply.  But as the weather warmed they started to damage the hay strips with their hooves.

We moved them to my contour strips which will be oats and no-till corn this year, so there is no hay ground to damage.  I am worried about them damaging the waterway which is a grass sod, but I think it will take the abuse from their hooves and spring back eventually.

Here is a picture of my contour strips last summer.

We are buying time until the frost goes out of the ground and the soil dries up, hopefully by April.  Because they will be moved into the calving pasture by April, regardless of conditions.

And this brings me to my point.  If you have animals year-around on your farm they always have to be somewhere.  And some days, even months, are not much fun to farm with livestock.

So if you are a beginning farmer here is my advice.  Stick with seasonal production until you know exactly what you want to do.

Broiler chickens, feeder pigs, lambs, calves, young cull cows, even year-old laying hens are all available in my area in the spring.  Only purchase what can be marketed by fall and have everything gone by Thanksgiving or Christmas.

And then you will enjoy beautiful down-time.  Down-time is even more valuable when you’re trying to figure out what you want to do.