Motorcycle weather

Yesterday we planned to ride today.  They said we'd have highs around 70, and indeed we have.  Last night, though, I got to thinking maybe Cliff would like to spend this golden day puttering around the farm (I use the term "farm" loosely, because we're not real farmers).  
He agreed that at this time of year there's a lot he can find to do on an unseasonably warm January day.  The thing is, it really needs to be at least sixty degrees before we head out on the bike.  Oh yes, there are lots of folks who take pride in the fact that they ride their motorcycles all winter, but Freezing to death just isn't FUN to us.  So we'd have been waiting until noon or so for it to warm up, and then we'd have maybe four hours to ride.  We've ridden all the local roads until we know them like the backs of our hands, and we don't want to get too far from home because we know nightfall (and cool temperatures) come early.  We'll have plenty of riding weather in the spring. 

  Cliff spent most of the day tidying up a small lot that my readers don't often see:  It's part of the original 6 1/2 acres we bought when we first moved here.  For the past few years it was often used as a horse pasture for the former neighbor's horse.  Horses ruin small pastures by cropping the grass so close in the ground that it dies, and eventually nothing is left but weeds.  Now the horse is gone, and Cliff plans to sow some grass seed there.  As long as it isn't overgrazed, the grass will do well.

The loggers got the biggest tree on our place over there in the direction where Cliff is looking.  The treetop was laying there for Cliff to cut into firewood, and he put the smaller limbs in the ditch.  

A couple of years ago, there was a BIG fire in that ditch.  But I digress.  

That shed isn't on our property.  I wish it was; Cliff could fill it up with tractors.  Our property line is a couple of yards this side of the shed.  I wish I knew who to talk to about that property; it's been foreclosed on, and I'd like to know if it's something we could manage to buy.  


Hey, a person can dream, can't she?

So why another cow?

I had originally intended to watch for another Jersey, since they're my favorite breed.  And who knows how long Bonnie will last?  We aren't positive, but we think she was in heat last weekend.  Before it's time for her to cycle again, we'll take her to visit Cliff's brother's bull and hope for the best.  Poor thing, one of her quarters no longer gives milk and another is compromised; she seems to have a displaced hip, so she walks with a peculiar gait.  Not that this destroys her quality of life... shake a feed can at her and she can run at the speed of light to get to it.  That cow lives to eat!  
We went to the livestock auction a few days ago and were astounded at the prices beef cattle are bringing.  High-grade 600-pound calves are bringing as much as $900 each, so I thought to myself, "We have grass and hay to spare, and it's just going to waste.  We could have another cow on the place making us money."  
I finally realized that since I already have one Jersey cow and a Jersey heifer that will probably be having a calf in eighteen months, I'd be wiser to consider a beef cow that wouldn't have to be milked at all.    
We no longer have a pickup or trailer with which to transport cattle, so when Phil said he'd let me buy one of his cows (and he'd deliver it), we jumped right on that deal.  Lindie asked in a comment if the cow we're buying had been pregnancy checked; no, she isn't far enough along to check.  But Cliff's brother would make it good with us one way or another.  After all, he's the one who lets us use his bull for Bonnie, free of charge.  He's a good brother.
So we'll get Babe, the new cow, accustomed to the place, turn her loose, and wait until she has a calf and raises it  up to weaning size, then sell the calf.  Free money, right?  
Not quite.  I don't count the cost of mowing and baling hay, because Cliff mows this place like a park anyhow.  Just remember, though, that the calf Babe has in September won't be ready to sell until June or July of the next year, so it'll be eighteen months before we see a return on our investment.  And if she has a heifer calf, we might keep it.  On the other hand, we could probably take her to the sale barn when she's about ready to calve next September and make money on her.  Not that we plan to do that, because then we'd be looking for another cow to buy, wouldn't we?  
There's always the risk of a cow dying.  We once had a pretty weaned Holstein heifer that drowned in a shallow pond, in less than two feet of water:  The pond was iced over, the heifer walked out on the ice a short distance, the ice broke, and she couldn't make her way out of the ice-covered pond; she thrashed and struggled until she dropped from exhaustion, and was already dead when we discovered her there.  Years ago a lovely registered Jersey heifer was frolicking through the pasture, we assume, and ran right into a barbed wire fence, which wrapped around her neck in a hideous way.  She was alive when we found her, but her neck was broken.  Any time you are dealing with livestock, there's a risk.   

Even though it will likely be a year-and-a-half before Jody will have a calf and start giving milk, I'm getting her used to the feel of the stanchion now.  Bonnie hates it when I let another cow in the barn because she knows they are likely getting fed there; she bellows her displeasure until Jody is back with the herd.