Sometimes you just feel like seeing a picture of chickens.
milking it, old school
With Myrtle still nursing, her mom, Lilly has plenty of milk. The farmers milk Lilly twice a day and the house makes butter and cheese. Nothing wrong with old school ways when they turn out delicious!
Have a great day folks.
to be tall
Myrtle really has only a single dream…to be tall. Certainly to be taller than the grass. Just think what it would be like to look around and see the world that surrounds you. Right now, Myrtle can only see the green stalks of grass, the bugs that live on the grass, and an occasional mouse. If she strains her neck and looks up, she can see the sky with it's clouds and occasional bird.
Myrtle wants more. She wants to be able to see what ever it is that she can hear. Loud noises come from beyond the grass. What could make sounds that loud?
How tall would she need to be? Tall as the tree tops that tease her over the grass? Maybe the trees are just bigger grass? Could there be some other bigger cow looking down at her like she is a mouse in the grass. Myrtle involuntarily looked up at the thought of a giant cow. She didn't want to be stepped on.
To be tall…that is all that Myrtle wants. It's taking forever. She's already three weeks old and still not tall.
Myrtle dreams of being tall. That's all she can do for now.
Dream.
war stories
Ya know, sewing these britches reminds me of a story. Back in the war, my buddy Crabby and I were quartermasters attached to the 10th Ohio. We had this Lieutenant that was kind of an ass. The Lieutenant left his coat on a wagon and Crabby got the brilliant idea of sewing this guy's coat sleeves closed about halfway down their length.
Crabby just sat on the tail of the wagon sewing away. The Lieutenant even came out several times and asked Crabby some questions. He never figured out what Crabby was doing.
A runner finally came with a request for the lieutenant to go see the Major. The guy runs out of his tent and grabs the coat that Crabby had finished sewing and returned to its place. The Lieutenant tried putting his arm in the first sleeve and couldn’t get it in. He pushed harder and harder until he started spinning in circles with one arm halfway in and the other flailing around.
Finally the idiot lieutenant pushed so hard that he lost his balance and fell into a pile of horse crap. Crabby started laughing so hard he had tears. I started laughing because Crabby was laughing so hard. His laugh was infectious. Other people were laughing as well.
The Lieutenant got up, madder than a wasp’s nest. When he looked around for someone to blame, Crabby just subtly pointed his finger at one of the other guys that were laughing. I think the poor innocent slob got latrine duty for a month.
I think that was Crabby’s best day of the war.
Credit Due:
The gentleman pictured in this story is my friend from the farm, Rick Musselman. With only a little embellishment, this story was the actual tale that Rick was telling me while he hemmed the pants for one of the farm hands. Sometimes, real life is better than the story I would have made up. Thank you Rick.
milking Lilly
For those of you that don't have a farm in your background, I know you have a burning question in your minds. I know because I wondered the same thing. They feel like giant, solid, fuzzy boobs.
That answer your question?
Here is a bonus picture of the new calf, Myrtle. She is a adorable and only three weeks old.
right where you are
Sometimes you become so tired that you have to drop right where you are and take a nap. You could be on the floor, in the barn or even on a bench on the back porch. Your eyes start to droop, your muscles relax, and the next thing you know, you are out like a light. Right there. Wherever you are.
Must be nice being a cat.
Take a nap today. You've earned it.
three cans, a bucket, and a box
I often find beauty in the simplest scenes. Here, three watering cans, a bucket, and a wooden box are set against the repeating pattern of an old brick wall. Simple. Beautiful in its basic forms.
Yes, scenes like this are a joy.
they wouldn’t let Zach play any of their draft horse games
Zach has always thought he was one of the horses on the farm. He was raised along side them and what they did, he did. If they were gamboling and playing in the pasture behind the barn, then Zach was right there with them. He ate the same hay from the same hay rack as them. He drank from the same water trough.
It is no wonder that Zach was surprised when the horses decided that today, he couldn't play in any of their draft horse games. You would think he was some kind of hog, sheep, or even worse, a goat. Poor Zach. Poor clueless Zach.
shake your tail feathers
It should go without saying, but I am afraid that it bears repeating. You should always shake your tail feathers. Got it?
bringing in the towels
tim mcmurdo 