Ahhh, The Farm Life...

People love imagining the idyllic farm life. There are chickens clucking, bees buzzing, a friendly milk cow is lowing, the grass is a vibrant green color, the sky is so blue that it doesn't seem real.... Ahh, life in the country.

Or maybe not. ;)

Today was one of those days.

Unfortunately, while we may get the above description of the farm life every now and again, there are still days full of mud, blood and water. And in February and March, we get more of the latter than of the former.

I had a list of things that I needed to do outside, but couldn't decide if I should wait for the weather to clear up or not; I decided to go ahead and go, since Oregon weather is so unpredictable. Things started out pretty well; I was working on clearing an area for another garden (making for three gardens this year), and for the moment, the sky was pretty clear. I even thought about taking my carhartt off. Then my cow saw me....

Poppy is under the delusion that when I am outside, I am outside solely for her enjoyment; and therefore I should be petting her rather than working. When she realizes that I'm ignoring her eyelash batting (she's gotten pretty good at it!) she begins bellowing... One moo after the other.

I continue to work, trying not to let Poppy's tantrum get under my skin. Then I notice that the weather is quickly changing. The wind picks up to high speeds and I occasionally see a chicken being blown by. I quickly finish up, and then remember that I needed to add one more strand of electric fence to the pasture, so that I could move the animals the next day. The electric rope is found, the fencing pliers are found, I grab my gloves... But can't find the wire needed to attach some of the insulators. Grrr. A 10 minute search still does not reveal the wire, so I decide to just start with putting some insulators onto the metal fence posts.

Heading out, I have a choice, I can either go through the big metal livestock gate, but risk letting all the chickens out, or I can clamber over the fencing instead. I decide to go over the fence. Half way to my destination, I realize that I have somehow forgotten the insulators. How does one forget those? Talent I guess.  Back over the fence I go to retrieve those annoying plastic things that are so mandatory to electric fencing.

The rain has increased to a steady pour by now. The cow is still mooing, and I'm pretty drenched. Upon climbing back over then fence, I cut my leg, but refuse to tend to it until my job is finished. My boots make a dramatic "squelch, squelch" as I walk down the the property edge. It doesn't take long to realize that I don't have near enough insulators to finish the job, but do what I can and then start heading back to the barn.

The cow is still mooing.

The wind blows a few more hens around, and then dies off. I feel and look like I just walked backwards through a hurricane.

I get the chickens lunch started (soup!), throw more hay into the manger for the goats, fill everyone's water buckets, put all the fencing supplies where they belong, turn the compost pile, and then face my bovine who has now been incessantly mooing for over 30 minutes.

I fold my arms and walk slowly up to her. The goats are smart enough to realize that this means "I'm not happy with you, you had better run and be quiet!" but my cow just makes happy grunting noises and waits for me to come. I'm sopping wet, my leg is still bleeding, my skirt is liberally streaked with mud, and right then, I wanted to be indoors more than outdoors. I stop in front of Poppy, trying my best to look intimidating. She simply bats her eyelashes and then sticks her head in the crook of my arm.

 [sigh] Cows. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. How can you resist someone who loves you no matter what? So, mud, blood and all, Poppy and I spent the rest of the wet afternoon together.

And she's quiet now. ;)