It's been a week since I updated this silly blog, so I had better play catch-up with some assorted happenings. First, the cows. Most of my plans for the cows did not come to fruition, but isn't that how it goes with "plans"?
It was going to be so simple: Each cow would calve, I would buy some calves to place with the cow's own calf, and they would all do the milking for me, grow like crazy, and make me some money. HA! It actually worked that way with Grace, until I sold her own calf and the two that nursed alongside her. When I brought in new calves, she wanted nothing to do with them. So she gets put in the stanchion with an anti-kick device on her and is forced to let them nurse.
Then Penny gave birth to a dead calf. If I thought Grace hated the two calves she was forced to feed, that was NOTHING compared to the way Penny feels about her three "adopted" babies. The anti-kick device somewhat limits how hard and how much she can kick on her right side, but she can deal what would possibly be a lethal blow to the left and to the back. So I bring in the youngest calf and let him nurse one teat dry from the right side, boot him out, and let in the "two brownies" as I call them, who nurse side-by-side on the right and reach under to get to the teats on the other side. The original intention was to let all three nurse, one on each side and one in back, but Penny was able to put the fear in them pretty quickly when I tried that. Another plan, foiled. Seriously, that cow could kill a calf. Maybe one of these days I'll do a video, because you almost have to see it to believe it. Meanwhile, I can't leave our property for over twelve hours at a time, because I am the only one who can handle the calf situation. No vacation for me this summer.
I will admit it has been good for me to see all this action, because for most of my life I have put my trust in those "kickers" that I thought disabled a cow from doing any real harm. It's a wonder I wasn't killed. Never again will I assume I'm safe when the kicker is on the cow. Oh, by the way... both of my cows are sweethearts when I'm milking them. They don't lift a foot while I'm handling them. So there's that.
The garden! I don't care for radishes, but Cliff does, so I always plant some. This year I had a record crop, with radishes as big as plums. I took a picture of a gallon ice-cream-carton full of them and put it on Facebook, and my Russian (or Ukranian) friend, Meesha gave me the link to a recipe for pickled radishes. He's never made them, but says he eats them at a Mexican restaurant.
I like them much better than plain old radishes. As they soak in the pickling solution, the red outsides of them fade, and the white insides turn a nice pink color.
My garden often shows me parables while I'm out there. The most common one has to do with weeds. I know Jesus told the parable of the tares and the wheat, in which he said to leave the weeds there until harvest. That might work with wheat, but not with my garden. Last year I let my garden go something awful, and weeds took over. Just like in your life, even though you might decide to change your ways and do things right this time, you are still going to have to deal with the problems last years' weeds left behind. Karma.
He agreed. So there will be no tomato wars this year. If you wonder what I'm talking about, just click HERE.