The Business of March

We’ve had rain and snow and wind. The feed truck got stuck three days in a row.

We love the moisture, but know that too much wet on baby calves makes them susceptible to disease. Mark has our hay tested and provides supplementation to ensure a healthy diet for the cows, the first order for strong calves. We put out straw to give them a dry place to lay and provide sandhills and windbreaks for protection. Still, in the middle of the night when the wind howls and we hear the smattering of drops against the house, we worry.

Today there’s a brisk wind, but the rain has held off all morning and the sand is drying out. It’s challenging to raise crops in sand but our farm is wonderful this time of year for cattle.

It was calm last evening. I walked into the yard and told Anna I was going to sit on the porch and listen to the robins go to bed. She grabbed a big quilt and joined me. Within ten minutes the red-breasted party quieted down until the last robin gave one last chirp . . .  and then silence. A couple of owls, perched in the willows, their silhouettes against what was left of the day, hooted their ghostly goodnight.

It is familiar - this wet, windy, sloppy March. The killdeers are flirting; well, doing more than flirting I suppose. There’s a green pop in the meadow. No serious growing yet, just a “heads up” awakening.

Every year in March the water meetings commence. I keep books for a couple of canals and each year we meet to discuss the upcoming irrigation season. What condition is the ditch in? How much excavation work should we budget for? Who’s paid up and who’s behind? Snowpack levels are discussed and board members elected. Large farmers and backyard irrigators rub shoulders and hope for full ditches.  

We’ve had a string of fetal mal-presentations in the cow herd. The most unusual is the “backwards, standing up” position. The calf attempts to come out butt first, pretty much impossible without assistance. One spring a few years ago, we had several and Mark got very good at spotting them. So good in fact that when driving to town one day, he spied a cow in a pasture along the road and knew she was in peril from just such a birth complication. He crossed the fence, walked her behind a gate, pushed the calf back inside far enough to get hold of the legs and pulled it out. He was too late to save the calf but the cow survived. He said about the cow’s owner, “I don’t think he ever knew who stopped and pulled that calf!”

I’m sure when Mark closes his eyes at night he sees pregnant cows in varying stages of labor and calves, calves, calves.

     

But Can He Suckle a Calf?

I can’t think of a better measure of a man than how he acts in the barn.

It’s delicate business, this handling of animals in close quarters. It’s stressful for cattle to be indoors; we speak in hushed tones and move slowly and methodically to keep them as calm as possible.  

Cows are really good at being cows - and they have all day to do it in. Have a million chores to do? Tired and hungry and ready for supper? Never mind . . . this may take a while. And the harder you try to hurry, the less likely your chances of success.

The biggest test of patience and resolve is suckling calves. Once in a while a baby needs assistance. Their strong urge to stand and suck is actually quite fragile if compromised for some reason. A few days ago a calf was born prematurely, as doughy as an underdone cookie. His skin sagged around his neck and his toes were soft and spongy. He could suck good, but needed a couple of days on the bottle before he tried his mom’s udder. 

Calves are wobbly. Holding them in the proper position to access the udder as they attempt to fall sideways or rear back, whilst also guiding the mouth to the teat can be exhausting. Sometimes the instinct to suck needs to be stimulated by squeezing a few squirts of milk into their mouth. One's patience is tested as you're bent over, crouched, contorted.  I had a stiff neck for days after a recent session.

You’re lucky if the cow stands obediently in the head catch. Usually she steps ahead and back, up and back, switching her tail and straining against the stanchion. Sometimes the mother kicks and a leg needs to be tied up. 

But, oh, that glorious sound of a calf taking hold of the teat, the methodical thurp-thurp (or however you would spell that), the tail wagging in pleasure. And as the calf figures it out, he presses his muzzle up, searching, then stands squarely on all four feet, moving from teat to teat until all four quarters are emptied.

It’s good, this ancient mammalian ritual, when life outside the womb means the suckling of young. Whether human, wild animal or domesticated livestock, it is nature at her purest, her sweetest. 

  

A Softening

Winter has loosened her grip. We’ve had three mild days and the sun on my cheek this morning was decidedly warm.The wind, which goes hand in hand with warmer temperatures, finally stopped, feeding was a lark and the red-wing blackbirds are chatting amiably. 

But it’s not only a warm cheek and birdsong. It “feels” like calving time, like March. Yes it’s mud and it’s puddles of standing water over sheets of ice – treacherous for man and beast. But more than that, it is a change of mindset, a “switching over.” Not to spring, for that’s a way off yet, but to late winter. It’s a subtle change that those who live on the land understand in a way that folks who work indoors only give a mild nod to. They wait for it to warm up enough to play outdoors on the weekend. We’re just looking for 15 degrees to shed one layer of clothing; 15 degrees to dry a sidehill for a calf to stand and suck.

My indoor, feminine side hates to see the snow leave. I like fireside reading and long evenings. I like the placid feel of pregnant cows burrowing their heads in hay. I like Mark having some down time. Farewell to that.  

The gals are starting to show their condition. We have a cow that develops a pinched nerve when she’s heavy with calf. She was on the back end as we walked the herd to ranch headquarters this week. I brought her along slowly as she was in obvious discomfort.

We're back to just one kid again. Seth will be working out of North Carolina for a few months. He hated to leave the West, the family and the ranch. I told him it, and us, will still be here when he finds his way back home again. I drove him to the airport and as we headed out the driveway he asked to stop in to great-grandmas for one last hug. He has always faced up to his goodbyes. Me, I hurry through them, not wanting to cry. Crying is for sissies. Yeah, right.         

the gate on Weeding Lane

needs a lift

         

Unplanned Pregnancies

We weren’t expecting any calves this soon, but there are three on the ground right now. We think the neighbor’s bull went on a walk-about.

There’s a herd of elk marauding the neighborhood. They spent one night in our stackyard munching on third-crop alfalfa bales. Then they went out in the pasture and dug holes in the snow, eating our stockpiled feed we were saving ‘til spring. They drug the electric fencing wires hither and yon. Apparently they've moved on because we haven't seen them for a few days.   

I walked home after chores through our backgrounding feedlot this morning. There is a wide alley between pens to allow hay to be delivered to opposing feed bunks. The calves look happy. Jesse is doing a good job of tending them. He feeds them twice a day and delivers large straw bales into the pens every few days so they have a clean, dry place to lie down. It’s a pleasant, congenial spot to spend a cold winter day.  

The cow herd is divided into two herds this time of year. One for the older cows and one for the younger cows that are expecting their first or second calf. We can take our best hay to the young cows and not expect them to compete with the old gals for feed.  

There’s one baby in the young cows, the heifers. She was born to a “second-calver,” which is a good thing because heifers are so excited about the newcomer they can overwhelm a neophyte mother. They crowd around, sniffing the baby, and can interfere with the bonding so critical to the calf’s health. This mother, wise from doing it once before, knew to keep her newborn away from the herd, under wraps for a bit. She was keeping a tight rein on her baby, bunting away an interloper as we watched. Once a few calves arrive the herd becomes accustomed to the process and it's not a problem. 

Early or not, we’ll take every healthy calf we get. We have a bit of experience in unplanned pregnancies ourselves. Sometimes surprises produce the best outcomes!   

Mom is wary but standing guard

Staying Power

We still have our solid snow covering. It’s packed hard. Venturing off the feedground into fresh territory takes chains and bravado. We’ve gotten stuck a few times which keeps us humble. Truth told, smooth sailing doesn’t show one’s true character does it? Wallowing around in the snow securing tire chains does. I let Mark do the wallowing of course. It’s so unfair.

I read to Mark out of my 2015 diary. It was 63 degrees on this date. What? The forecast for today is a high of 26!   

It’s a new year. Some things are the same. Red meat and raising cows in general is still being vilified. We’re still ignoring nutrition commonsense and refusing to raise the conversation around climate issues. And some things are different. After several years of sky-high beef industry profits, calf prices have plummeted to nearly one-half the high of a few short months ago.

The agricultural world is rife with boom and bust net returns. Of course any economic sector (oil for instance) can fluctuate wildly, and keeping our wits about us when prices are strong is always good advice.

Mark and I have asked ourselves more than once, “Were high cattle prices good for the industry?” On one hand, ranchers finally had enough money to build the shop, buy the new Ford tractor, remodel the house or put a handsome down payment into a coveted piece of real estate. On the other hand, grazing rental rates went through the roof because of competition for grass. And if you were trying to expand, cow prices were (and still are in our opinion) too high to cash flow. Seems the ride up is easy, the ride down stilted and begrudging. Hopefully the new equipment was paid for in cash and any real estate debt comes with a payment that can be covered when profits are squeezed. 

The high prices put a shot of adrenaline into the beef industry. Many ranching families brought on the next generation during this upswing. This was positive in so many ways, but now it's time to dig into the finances and help the youngsters understand the figure at the end of the spreadsheet. Then work together to keep it in the black. Knowledge is power, and respectful debate and collaboration, golden. 

beauty in my world

Quietude

It’s quiet on the ranch. We go about caring for the herd every morning just as generations of ranchers have done before us. Each winter day is the same as the one before unless severe weather intervenes. 

This statement is true on a ranch only once a year, the cold season, when nothing grows and snow can cover the ground for weeks at a time. By March we’ll be calving and every day is a wild card. The feeding still needs to happen, but we never know who might need help and how long the days will be. And at the same time spring arrives and the farm goes under irrigation and the cows go to grass and it’s a “hold on to your hat” affair.

But I won’t think about that just now. I’ll just enjoy the quiet.

To make it even better, Seth and Anna are home for a few weeks. Seth is working from home as an analyst for an agricultural consulting firm. He’s on the computer all day and has to stay focused. I’ve learned to be quiet and let him work. Anna is student teaching and putting in long hours in the classroom and planning upcoming lessons in the evening. She debriefs every night and it’s such fun to be in on this phase of her education.   

I get to spoil the kids with homemade meals. They’ve been gone long enough to appreciate Mom’s cooking.  

Mark has arranged extra hired help to feed cows this winter so I have more time to pursue my writing projects. I’m thrilled with the extra time and so thankful to him. His support means the world to me. Sometimes I find him of an evening, buried in the office supposedly doing bookwork, but instead reading old blog posts.

Seth is great to want to explore big topics. He told me about the book, Leading on Empty, and how the author, pastor Wayne Cordeiro, says to think about the time you spend each day on activities that only YOU can do. He says it may be only 5%, but that it determines the validity of the other 95% of your day. Without reading the book, I can only conjecture the author’s meaning within my own life context.

What do I do each day that I can’t hire someone else to do? It’s a great question. I’m the only mother my kids have. I’m Mark’s only wife. And even though I’m not the only woman rancher who must write to scratch an itch, I’m the only one with my unique life experience, a perspective born of that experience, and the will to faceoff with a blank word document.

That's my challenge. What's yours?

sometimes they're frozen

a winter walk with friends

   

The Money Side

It’s warmed up a little to the twenties and even some thirties in the daytime. We still have a solid snow covering. Seth and Leah’s perfect snowman still smiles at us out the picture window.

Every day now is a feeding cows day. The first day out was a pleasure. Ah yes, I remember this. It was a beautiful morning with a cover of fresh snow. The cows had a dusting of white on their backs.

When it’s really cold, the cows’ hooves make a creaking clamor as they crowd around the truck when we arrive each morning. Between bales I pull my fingers into my gloves and stand for a half-minute to get the blood flowing again. When it warms up, like now, we shed our coats after the first load and risk getting hay chaff down our necks.

Isn’t January grand? I love the feeling of a fresh start on a fresh new year. I finally got my 2016 planner set up today and the pages lay open - crisp and clean and full of promise.

Like every January, Mark and I have been going through ranch finances. I like the business side of the operation. A new year means visits to our accountant and banker and spending evenings sorting options. Actually, Mark does the sorting. I cheer him on and do what I can in the background. My forte is trying to figure out what questions to ask. I love questions. And really, it’s not so much about finding concrete answers, but rather thinking through the myriad of factors that good questions bring to mind. This is where the meat of great decisions lie.       

And we best be comfortable with questions on a ranch. How do we juggle the needs of four generations that have an interest in this business? How do we address a shortage of spring grazing? What is the return on soil amendments this past season?

Ranching is about relationships: cows and grass, employees and family members, older generations and younger generations, soil organisms in concert with above ground flora and fauna, horses and dogs and cows. And in the background, the relationship that keeps the rest of it together, those ever important debits and credits, income and expenses. For if that relationship doesn't work, the others have no chance to.