Nightmare on upcoming-bride street

Hello all...been a while. Sorry I haven't written, I've been busy planning a wedding, which, is far more horrifying than blood, guts or shit. Maybe not as bad as the lamb being eaten alive by maggots this summer, but a close second.

Here's the thing about weddings, they look very glamorous in the commercials and bridal magazines but they make no mention of the "bride meltdown" that happens one month prior to your nuptials. They also make no mention of the fact that your dj will be a complete douche and hardly communicate with you when it's far too late to try to find another one, so you take it in the shorts and put up with his dumb ass.
Nor do they mention how many tiny details are involved such as how many God damned floating candles you need to buy or tracking down enough MATCHING vases is near impossible.
How about the ignorant folks that work at David's Bridal that can't get the right size for your flower girl's dresses? Then you have to send them back and order them online yourself and have it sail very smoothly, and you should have just done it yourself to begin with. Or the fit they pitch when you want non traditional alterations. And speaking of alterations, be prepared to pay your life savings to have a hem thrown in.
There are perks. You will find your friends and family and wonderful and plan beautiful showers for you and the generosity of fabulous gifts you probably don't deserve, but appreciate them more than you can express.
Today is "protect kitchen". I'm cleaning every shelf, drawer and cranny to make room for the amazing gifts and upcoming kitchen goodies. One will find they are constantly surprised by the amount of shit two people can accumulate. I found an onion bloom maker tucked away in a cupboard. I didn't even know we owned such a useless item. We aren't even sure where it came from. My only guess is the last bride that did this, snuck it in to my house to be rid of it. I don't even like blooming onions. I wish she had left a food processor or kitchenaid mixer. Actually, thanks to my soon-to-be-mother-in-law, that mixer is covered now, bless her heart!
In conclusion, I can not wait to get married and continue to spend my life with the man I love and my best friend, but planning a wedding is the worst part about getting married.

Turns out...not so great at blogging

Woah you guys...wtf where have I been?

Working in town sucks- I feel like I never have time to write anymore.

Well, lambing didn't suck nearly as much as I thought it would because evidently the sheep felt like being alive this year.

Here's a fun story- I got a new guard dog...puppy...who lives in the yard.
Jesus Christ what do I do to screw my dogs up so badly. I mean, I had him messed up by age 8 weeks. Anyway, I'm not getting anymore guard dogs. His name is Mayhem...it really fits, especially since that little asshole dug up all my lettuce last night. In the words of my sister "I guess I will just have to go buy lettuce like everyone else."

The wedding is getting closer so I have been busy with that- we got the rodeo tickets purchased so that's pretty AWESOME. Can't wait!

I really am feeling very uninspired today so, I will try to come up with something clever in the next couple of days.


Cheers

Better Lawns and Gardens

Hello readers, or as Julie Powell would call you: "bleaders"

I haven't had any craziness happening lately, if you discredit the bought of e-coli I was battling. (see first blog entry for that to be funny.) So for real, don't accidentally get cow poo in your face, because yeah- e-coli. Anyway, it is a nasty business but here we are...no worse for the wear. It would have been nice if I had lost some fucking weight while glued to the toilet, but no. So I am still chubby.

Calves and Jersey's are doing very well. Snooki's baby who is still nameless, but I am leaning toward Charley....or Satan. She is a bit of a spit-fire and near impossible to get into a barn, once let out, so that's always worth a laugh because I am fat and slow and she runs like the damn wind. "Twinny" is fat and happy and ROUND and Moose is a snob...still.

Yesterday I did try to lead my milk cow with a halter...she isn't halter broke so that was a chore, but I didn't get run over or anything so it wasn't that eventful, but two years ago I did get plowed so at least that's something for you.

Lambing is on its way and will be here in about 20 days and that's when the real "fun" begins because sheep are infuriating. Usually they are crap at feeding their lambs and sometimes burn their wool under the heat lamps. Also look for stories about "granny sheep."

We finally got a little bit of moisture so thank goodness for that because I was not looking forward to selling every animal on the place. However, raising rocks would be a lot easier and probably more satisfying. If the sun comes out and shines away my dead yard might have a chance.

I am not much of a lawn nurturer. Last year my two, $6 Wal-Mart sprinklers had a hard time keeping up with the drought and my lawn didn't even needed mowed, so I figure that's a bad sign. I threw out some grass seed early this year, and if the stupid birds didn't eat it all- it might stand a small chance of growing in the dirt that is my lawn. I don't like mowing my lawn either, even with a rider mower because my dog chases the tracks and it's hard maneuvering around obstacles and not to leave bits of Alice in the yard too, she's fast and I never know where the hell she is...I usually just hope not under the mower. Plus it's hot, and if it is not a perfect 74.3 degrees...I am not happy. Also if I have to wear real clothes instead of yoga pants, I'm not very happy then either.

I also hate gardens. This is mainly due to the fact that the year I decided to grow one, I put up a major fence and tilled the dirt and fertilized and stuck steaks in the ground with strings tied to either end to plant perfectly straight rows of veggies, and it hailed and smoked my garden so I got pissed at nature and decided to sign up for bountiful baskets instead.

Sorry this post is boring and filled with useless crap about nothing but nothing spectacular has been happening...I just didn't want anyone to think I'd died or something.

Silly little things make me laugh

http://pinterest.com/pin/220676450463633380/

The Rewards of Patience

Sorry to report- I have no crazy stories...but don't fret, because lambing season will soon be upon us and sheep are the most frustrating animals alive.

Since I have began my blogging I have had some people ask me what I do with the milk that I spend hours a week collecting and why on earth would we have animals that are so time consuming. Here are some deets about things:

Firstly I will begin with where I began. When I decided to go back to school to get my degree in 2009 I just sort of dove right in, I wasn't sure what I wanted to do, all I knew was that I wasn't happy with the jobs I was doing because of the lack of a college education. It was about 3 months in that I decided no matter what I ended up doing, I was going to have to pay for my school and by living in the small town that I do, I was going to sacrifice a great paying job with lots of perks. It was then I decided to start a small cow herd of my own to have a back up plan in case it took some time to find a job that could support my bills and my student loans. I started making some calls and putting it on facebook that I was looking for bum calves. A friend of mine, who has a large ranch with a great deal of cows gave me two. Raising bum calves (and lambs) is a lot of work and can be tremendously difficult when you have several other things going on. I was a full time student, but only held a part time job so I had the time to raise some calves. The first two calves I got, luckily, were heifer calves (female) so I knew that I was going to keep them and eventually, get calves off of them. I raised those two calves on milk replacer and put a lot of work into nutrition supplements to make sure they were healthy, this cost me some money, but I still ended up way ahead.

The next year, we got the Jerseys. These cows can raise up to 3 calves with all of the milk they produce so when we had our bum calves taken care of, I went out on the hunt for more bums. The year prior, the price of calves sky rocketed so people weren't so willing to give them away. I purched two steer calves (males) for $300 a piece and a few weeks later, a heifer calf for $235. That is a total of $835. I raised them on the Jersey cows and an old Holstein cow. When I sold the two steer calves, I got $1,000 a piece. Pretty good profit margin of $1,400. I kept the heifer and raised my herd by 1.

I later bought 2 more cows and my dad gave me one so by the end of the year I had 6 cows, and last year sold 3 calves off of the two purchased cows and the gift cow (who's name is Harry Potter). Mind you, this is not a huge herd, but I only put $825 and the cost of milk replacer and pellets into this. I have to thank Kip in huge part since I don't pay him shares or cost of hay, but I do a lot of work around here to make that work out in the end.

This year, I am on the hunt for calves, and will probably end up with some...if not, I have 6 cows that are going to calve so, the work is starting to pay off and I will reap some rewards.

As for the milk: For the first 2 days, animals produce colostrum which is VITAL to a baby's existence. Without it, they will inevitably die. The colostrum basically kick starts the stomach in lame man's terms. I milk out the colostrum and freeze it so when we have lambs or calves that need the boost, we have it at the ready. After the colostrum has run out it is just milk but is still very beneficial. The middle of the night twin I spoke of earlier got Chelsea's colostrum and then her milk until he could be put on Chelsea.

Bum lambs DIE, it is their main goal in life to die. They never do very well on milk replacer as anyone with sheep knows. They also don't do very well on straight cow milk, but they THRIVE on a half and half mixture of the two. When you are a rancher, every death is a loss, not only financially but emotionally, and not the boo-hoo cry because a baby died way, in the way that you try so hard to save things and give quality of life. All of the work with the milking twice a day pays off when all of your bum lambs are alive when you are ready to take lambs to market.

I get up at 5:30 every morning and get the cows in and milk, I then srain the milk and freeze it and wash buckets and strainers and equipment. I then shower, go to work all day, come home, change into grungy clothes and do it all again but they pay off is fantastic.

Ranching life isn't glamorous- most of the time I smell like poop and am usually covered in some form of goo. Sometimes I run on very little sleep, and miss out on things but the rewards are really like none other.

Just a little me-ness

Oh Jayme...it's your party - http://pinterest.com/pin/223209725253857583/

Spoiled Worthless

Every animal at my house is basically weirder than any other animal anyone else has. For whatever reason, the gods have decided to bless us with the cream of the crop.

Oh, Alice.

Alice is my 3 year old Border Collie. She is my baby and gets smooches and cuddles on a daily basis. And she is spoiled NOT rotten, but spoiled worthless. Alice came to me from Minnesota when a family member decided a puppy was not for them. She is a high dollar dog and registered and part of the American Border Collie Association, so naturally; we got her spayed. She is weird, but as you have figured out, most things at our house are. She is the highest energy Border Collie I have ever come across and she is quite possibly the cutest Border Collie I have ever seen/ She has some attributes, here are some things Alice is really good at:

Standing in the gate
Watching TV (yeah, you read that right)
Sleeping in the bed
Herding chickens
Biting sheep in the face
Farting and clearing the room
Being in the way
Cuddling
Being in the way some more
Randomly attacking the cat
Barking at absolutely nothing in the middle of the night
Chasing water through the hose
Chasing motor vehicle tracks
Yipping when she wants in the house
Chasing the laser pointer that the cat ignores

Meg, Meg, Meg

Meg is Kip's 8 year old Red Setter here are some of her accolades:

Also barking at nothing in the middle of the night
Also farting
Chasing rabbits
Running to nowhere
Jumping on the couch when she is muddy
(She actually is a good bird dog)
Eating treats
Constantly wanting treats
Scratching at the door incessantly when she wants in
Making 78 trips in and out of the house per day
Having dog dreams (loudly)

Same 'ol Sam 'ol

Sam is a 6 year old Great Pyrenees, he just came to us a couple months ago from another home. We thought he might make a good guard dog for our sheep. Here is his resume':

Laying in the middle of the road
Laying in the ditch
Guarding the house
Guarding the other dogs
Ignoring sheep
Following the tractor
Great at asking for belly rubs
Sleeping in the flower bed

Jayme and Kip aka Cesar Millan

The Miracle of Life...

Sorry to my two readers, I haven't had any good stories in the last few days because things actually ran smoothly.

Today, I left work at noon due to a stomach thing, which I will only explain as dysentery, and leave it at that, because I am a fucking lady.

About an hour ago, Kip asked me to come outside because he had to feed and milk cow #2 (Snooki) was calving. Firstly, I would like to say that Jersey cows are weird, she was licking her own udders, which I found strange and at that moment vowed to Kip, when I am pushing my kid out...I won't feel the need to do that.

This calf was a little on the big side, so after the head came out, I helped her a little bit. Everything went fine and we have a black and white, little girl. I am a very proud parent. Also, I plan on keeping this calf...sorry Kip.

Here's what- you know that part in the movie Titanic where Jack tells Rose to hold her breath, and you always do- even though you (me) have seen the movie at least 240 times. For me, watching a cow give birth has a similar effect. When she pushes...I do too. Which is not great when you are home with a stomach bug that has you headed to the facilities every 20 minutes. So I had to be careful there and stop giving my cow moral support with my pushing, because I did not want to be delivering my own bundle of joy.

Then I went to help her- my life is gross-

I didn't want the bag over its head so I grabbed that and broke it while amniotic fluid made its way all over me (good thing I have an expensive engagement ring.) Then I opened its mouth so said fluid went out and not into the lungs. Then I gave some tugs on that calf- remembering that I still have that stomach issue.

If you are wondering if I pooed myself, the answer is no, but I did make haste back to my house because I figured the cow was on her own at that point.

If I don't have a privileged life...I really don't know who does.

Ignorance is Bliss

My milk cows have a story- The original 2 Jerseys were bought by my mister because we had a year where we suspected several cows that couldn't raise their calves, and milk cows seemed a better option than feeding them twice a day with milk replacer. We picked up those weirdos and I decided to name them "Snooki" and "J-Coww" for those of you who are familiar with MTV's "Jersey Shore" that is amusing.

They had their babies that year and Snooki had a bull calf who was christened "Pauly-D" and J-Coww had a heifer calf whom I named "Chelsea" after Chelsea Handler who I love, and is originally from Jersey. J-Coww died of Johne's Disease which is a bovine equivalent of Chrone's disease. I was sad...but we still had Chelsea.

Chelsea is 2 this year and had her first calf whom I named Moose, because he looked like one- he still actually does.

Sunday I found a twin in my big herd of cows, who don't have names and thus are not nearly as exciting- I was bottle feeding him Chelsea's milk (the poo free milk) and Tuesday night, he had his first experience being transfered from bottle, to cow.      He liked it.

We have to keep those graft calves seperate beause cows don't like calves that aren't their own, and from time to time, try to MURDER THEM. So I would put Chels in the head catch and let that little sucker go to town.

Yesterday, I let him live in the pen with Chelsea and Moose...expecting it was going to take a while for her to warm up to him.

Milk Cows are pretty mellow and I am quite sure--- they are DUMB! In a good way.

Chelsea took about 3.5 seconds to love that calf and she figures two calves are as good as one.

It was like Woodstock in there- she mooed at him and licked his butt and was pretty excited to have him...it was like she was stoned out of her mind with joy. The calf who now is named Chuy was bucking and playing and sucking the life right out of her through her udders and even gave his new brother a celebratory kick to the head.

Cows are fucking weird animals.

*Side note- Kip was nearly run over by an unamed cow last night- they like to keep us on our toes.

Fancy Pants

I can remember a time when life was really simple. When a good day was when you got new black wranglers for your horse shows and the big day of 4H when you paraded your sheep for slaughter for an absurdly high price. I was 8, and I had my new black wranglers on paired with one of my many “Little Mermaid” t-shirts, I was a fashionista, even back then. I knew I wasn’t supposed to wear those wranglers for play, so I was just parading my outfit in the house for all of my adoring fans..aka: no one. Anyway, my dad called me out to go with him, so I found this a perfect time to sneak out of the house with those fancy suckers on. My dad was getting small squares loaded in the pickup and I was climbing on the stacks jumping around “jack-be-nimble style”, I am still to this day not entirely sure what the hell happened, but with an almighty thwack I found myself on the ground with a hay bale on top of me. Shit. So, my dad, the nurturer he is, is laughing his ass off at me. Dirt bag. Two things happened that day: I learned you cannot always count on your dad to get you out of a sticky situation and it’s not really a good idea to wear your black wranglers when you aren’t supposed to. Karma is a bitch that way.

e-cowli

As you get to know me, you will realize that I am an idiot. I am a full time city deputy clerk engaged to a full time forest service fire fighter and a full time rancher. We have no hired help. Because we are stupid. And poor. We are stupid, and poor.

This "adventure" begins with a Jersey cow. They are spoiled rotten, pain in the ass cows that need milked twice a day, unless they have a small herd of calves to suck the life out of them. I have two. You shouldn't need any further information about Jersey cattle.

My betrothed has less than zero patience for this kind of thing, so the milk maid duties are bestowed upon me. (I am marrying for love) these type of cows can be a bit...spiteful. They like eating the grain that goes along with the milking, but not the actual milking. So they usually relieve themselves while I am squatted down near the ground where the BM makes a big healthy SPLAT. Their urine also tends to spray in one direction too, that direction is knows as "where ever my face is."

This particular splat landed in my bucket and sploshed (yeah, that's a word now) a spray of milky cow shit in my face. Free facial. With Bag Balm all over my hands, I just let that dry up nice and crusty on my face. I get to the house and deal with my milk (strain, pour, freeze) and head upstairs to my kitchen where a rouge calf bottle was forgotten in the porch. I just decided to give it a quick rinse in the kitchen sink and call it a night.

My ever-so-helpful man tells me to "be careful where I rinse things, because cow shit spreads e-coli."

...
*Poo still on face...

Colby...I just took a mouth full of cow feces to the face with an open mouth. I feel like the kitchen sink is a moot point.