Welcome to our herd

A few weeks back, I promised to explain the history of our herd…and I thought today would be a great time to do that!

As I had mentioned a few weeks back, our herd is what would be considered a closed herd. My husband explains it this way: “Well, the only new women on this farm were you and Mom.” Yeah, he has a way with words.

Basically, every cow on this farm is traced back to another cow on this farm…all the way back to the original herd started in the 1950’s. The only new blood (necessary, to prevent in-breeding and defects) on our farm are bulls that are bought periodically. We also use artificial insemination…but I’ll get into that in the future.

Now, this type of ranching may not work for others, but it works for us. We are able to trace back any genetic issues, match up heifers to better bulls for their ease of calving, and have a very detailed history of each calf that is born on our farm.

So, our herd started out as polled Herefords…and now we are Red Angus with Simmental cross. We changed things up when we needed to, made careful choices throughout our history and were able to survive through today. That, in itself, is something to be proud of!

 

This is an example of a polled Hereford.

 

It also goes to show that agriculture isn’t just about setting a goal and being strict in your path to get there. Sometimes along the way you need to be willing to veer off the path and try something new, be willing to be flexible and willing to work with whatever is thrown your way.

 

This is our herd today.

 

And with four boys coming up, I’m hoping that there will be at least one new woman coming my way!

Not your everday mom

I was told this morning that Big Bro and his friends think that I”m weird. And I guess it’s kind of a good thing.

Let me explain:

In our family, the family dynamic is a little off. Boss man takes care of most of the farming stuff, the cattle stuff, etc. When I can, I pitch in and help wherever needed (such as driving silage truck). On the flip side, I do kid duties, school duties and house stuff. He pitches in when I force him to. (Just kidding!…kinda)

That’s a pretty normal scenario for a lot of families, especially a lot of farm families with young children. So where do we differ? Well, for the most part, I’m the one that takes the boys fishing, hunting, playing sports, etc.

Apparently this makes me weird to a bunch of third graders.

It’s a family tradition. My dad took us hunting and fishing from a very, very early age. It was a family event and everyone was involved. I’ve always wanted that experience for my children…and so we began.

With George’s frequency at the doc’s office, I haven’t been able to take them out as often as I would like this year…but we’ll make up for it in years to come…I know it. And we’re already scoping out deer for deer season.

And don’t worry about me taking out the best and brightest of the animals, because if a deer is dumb enough to come close to my mini-van full of yelling, screaming kids trying to tell me that the deer is coming towards us while I’m trying to quietly “sneak” out of the vehicle without alerting the deer as to my whereabouts while wearing a large amount of blaze orange and shushing my children…well, that deer is probably at the shallow end of the gene pool and should be culled from the herd. The good news is that intelligence does not effect the taste…so the sausage will taste just as good! 😉

There was a year, quite a few years ago, that I was able to go out at daybreak, all by myself, and boss man would stay home with our (at that time) two young children and I was able to pretend that I was a real hunter. I even had that one mounted!

Apparently being a mom that hunts makes me weird. I can live with that.

And yes, I know how to field dress a deer. And no, I don’t expect anyone else to do it for me. So, in a few weeks, the boys and I will pack up our gear and after school we will drive around and see if we can secure our sausage source for the upcoming year.

Just one more reason that I love our farm.

Just a regular childhood accident

Yesterday didn’t quite go as planned, but I do have to say that most of my days aren’t “planned” for this exact same reason. If you don’t have plans, then you can’t be upset by not going through with them…right??? 🙂

Anyway, just a little before lunch time I received this call from the school:

“Val?”

“Yes.”

“This is (so-and-so) from the school. Ummm. There was a small accident involving Scooter and the slide and, well, he’s got quite the goose-egg on his forehead. Can you come in and take a look?”

“Yeah, let me load up the others and I’ll come in. It’ll be about 20 minutes.”

“OK, we’ll have him in the office. We’re icing it.”

Let me tell you, from my experience, if the school is calling to have you “take a look” at a wound when you live out of town, chances are a trip to the doctor is going to be called for…and it was.

The good news is it was just a mild concussion, we avoided the CT scan (Wagner heads are EXCEPTIONALLY hard…I’ve always known it, and now I have proof!) and Scooter is back at school today, complete with battle wound to show off to his friends.

Although it was a few hours ate up out of my day, it was a relief to have just a “normal” childhood accident.

And the new pediatrician was pleased to meet one of my other children…not just George. His comment on meeting Scooter? “Boy, he’s a big boy!” And just for the record, Scooter is 6, weighs 88 pounds and is 56″ tall. Little George and him make a GREAT pair! 🙂

Does church make you sweat?

Strange question, eh? But the explanation is another glimpse into my children’s thoughts.

Here was today’s conversation after church:

Scooter: “Mom, can I take my shirt off?”

Me: “Why?”

S: “Well, I’m really kinda sweaty.”

Big Bro: “Do you know why you’re sweaty? Because those are church clothes. And church makes you sweat.”

Hmmmm…interesting concept. Although, I do have to say that this week I had nothing to sweat about in church. But I’m guessing my children didn’t have the same guilt-free conscience. I, for one, am not surprised! 🙂

The honesty of children

Children are generally honest…in fact, brutally so. And my children are no exception.

For example, this evening while eating supper the TV was somehow left on. I usually pay no attention to it, but as we were eating I happened to notice that the show, “I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant,” was on. As I went to shut it off, this is the conversation that occurred:

Big Bro: “So, Mom, women like, lose a lot of weight when they have babies?”

Scooter: “Well, duh, everyone knows that.”

BB: “So did you lose a lot of weight when you had us?”

S: “Well, of course she did.”

BB: “So…what happened after George?”

S: “Well, apparently having four kids makes you fat.”

*sigh*

Instead of supper I guess I’ll just have a protein shake.

Land of the free?

I love my country. I love everything about it. I would not want to live anywhere else…ever. Saying the Pledge of Allegiance chokes me up. Hearing the National Anthem brings tears to my eyes. Yeah, I’m a sap, but I’m a patriotic sap!

One of the greatest freedoms we take for granted in our country is the freedom of choice. We have choices every day. You choose to go to work, you choose how you get to work, you choose what you eat, you choose where you get your food from…our choices are abundant and overwhelming if you think about it.

And yet there are people out there wanting to take those choices away. There’s a movement trying to dictate where your food comes from…taking the choice away from the one person who should make it…YOU! There are groups and organizations trying to pass legislation and regulations that would determine where your food would come from, or whether or not you should have to raise the majority of your own food. And that should disturb you…actually, that should shake you to the core.

Agriculture is under attack, and in the end, what is being demanded is a lack of choice for the consumer…creating an even larger problem then the one we are currently facing.

My example for today is a call for people to be raising their own food…namely chickens. There has been a great uproar over the egg recall and people are being pushed into thinking that the only safe egg is one they pick out of their backyard. And although I understand the thought process, the follow through is a tad ridiculous.

For me, my eggs will come from someone who knows what they’re doing, and who enjoys doing it. My chicken will come from the same types of places. I have no desire to raise chickens…in fact, the thought sends chills down my spine. (And for those of you that know me personally, I’m sure you’ve heard me say it time and time again!)

But, you know what? That’s MY decision, and since I live in this country, I get to make it…so far.

Until there is not one single person in this country that goes to bed hungry, there is room for all types of agriculture. Small, large, in-between, organic, “natural,” conventional, etc., etc. Whatever buzz word you want to use, we need all the food we can get. And somewhere, there’s someone who went without a meal today who will agree with me completely.

Living with royalty

Well, it was another busy weekend…which will lead to more busy weekends, but I’m OK with that.

This weekend was our local Applefest. Part of the celebration is a pageant-like activity that is called Lil’ Miss and Mr. Ellendale. It’s open to 5-6 year old’s and is kind of a mixer/social activity that gives local kids a chance to be on a parade float, play some games and bring home a cool lunch box/cooler.

Well, this year’s Lil’ Mr. Ellendale is none other than Scooter! He’s so excited! He can’t believe that he gets to wear a crown, a cape and ride on parade floats. Yeah, he’s even talking about learning cursive so he can sign autographs.

It’s been quite the deal. But as much fun as the weekend was, tomorrow will bring back our regular routine…whatever that is.

And I invite you to check out this great video…of the best 3-year-old mechanic in town. EJ’s calendar is filling up fast, so if you need some work done, you better schedule it soon!

Vocabulary for today’s third grader

A few months ago our oldest son, Big Bro, asked why he didn’t have any stepbrothers. He didn’t think it was fair that he only had one mom and dad and no “extra” family members.

The outburst took me a bit by surprise. I didn’t know if I should be apologizing to him that his father and I have decided that whatever it took, we were going to make our family work. Or if I should be chastising him for taking our family for granted. Well, I went with option c: I told him how lucky he was to have a family of people that loved him, no matter what.

I was wondering where all of this came from then, but now I have an idea. My son just brought home some vocabulary words and work that he did last week. The lesson was titled,”Me and My Family,” but the four vocabulary words were: family, divorce, values and sibling.

Wow.

Out of all the words that could be used to describe family, divorce is in the top four? Perhaps this is part of the problem with today’s society? Maybe if we start giving children outs at such a young age, it just becomes second nature.

Well, I was a little proud in the fact that Big Bro didn’t know how to use the word “divorce” in a sentence. I know he knows what it means, but it’s not part of our daily vocabulary, and I’m not planning on using that word regularly. It cost him 3 points on his paper, but it was the only one he got wrong on the whole lesson.

I’m thinking that maybe he should have got extra credit.

The responsibility of parenting

A group in North Dakota is seeking to start a graduated drivers’ license in our state. (The article is here: http://www.inforum.com/event/article/id/292067/ in the Fargo Forum.) And although it is being discussed with good intentions, I’m a little leery as to the consequences that may come up.

Now, I agree that I’m not real excited about the prospect of having teens that are too young to make responsible decisions to legally be behind the wheel, driving a death machine in the middle of a winter blizzard. But on the other hand, I know plenty of adults that I don’t want to see behind the wheel either!

From the viewpoint of a farm family that lives about 15 miles from town, having another licensed driver in the house will be a great benefit for us. Even though I dread going through the whole permit/licensing process, I know that when the time comes for my sons to get their licenses, I will be comfortable with their driving abilities before that appointment is made.

Why should the state be stepping in where a parent should be? At what point are we going to just turn child-rearing over to the state altogether?

Now, before I get a million messages about those parents that don’t take an active involvement in their child’s upbringing, don’t care about what the child does or with whom, etc., etc. Let me say that I get that. I understand the concern. But yet, at some point in time we need to take responsibility for our children and actually be a parent.

Is a year-long permit process going to actually force those parents to all of a sudden become responsible? Are restrictions and regulations the answer to the teen-driving concerns? Or are we just increasing the burden on law-enforcement and those that actually follow the law?

I know the reasoning behind the requested change, but I’m doubting the outcome. And although it will be a few years before this law change would have any impact on my life, as a parent I know I need to be involved.

Imagine that.

They can sense it…I know it

Our bulls have ESP…I just know it.

Yesterday boss man pulled out of the yard with the semi to go get a load of hay from our land about 20 miles west of here. Just as he pulled out of the yard, the bulls headed west across our alfalfa field to take a little walk.

They pretended the fence wasn’t even there and just kept right on walking. And there was nothing I could do about it. I don’t know if they enjoy watching my little mini-van trying to round them up, or they just like to make me seem like a crazy woman who can’t stand to see her husband leave the yard, but whatever it is…it works.

By the time boss man got back to the yard, they were mostly back in, making it seem as if I had either a) dreamed up the whole thing, or b) over-exaggerated the whole escape. The answer was closer to c) the bulls are trying to drive me over the edge.

Sad thing is…they’re beginning to win!