Bull-ogna!

Over the last few months I have had the opportunity to fully experience the destructive nature of high testosterone levels rearing havoc on our 40 acres. His name is...."Nutcracker". Why?...because when he was two months old he almost dismembered my Husbands goods with one swift head but between his legs. In April 2008 William brought home two Angus calves abandoned by their mothers in a wild fire East of us. Annie and Nutcracker were my first bottle calves to be raised at our new place. We just call him Bull.

Now he is 3, and since all my cows are currently bred and he feels he has no use of existence, he is finding ways of testing my patience. Most mornings when he sees me approaching, he lets out a grunt of sorts. Lately it's been a full fledged holler at the top of his lungs, followed by a curl of his nose and a snort that sends snot flying. I can't help but laugh, shake my head and tell him how ridiculous he sounds.

Lately, when I put the oxen and bull out to pasture in the mornings he literally uses his head to break the ice off the top of the 100 gallon tank. (Yes, it actually gets below freezing at night here in Ok.) He takes great pride in this accomplishment. One recent morning the ice was a bit too thick and as I went to retrieve a hammer to help him out, he decided that while I was gone he wasn't going to wait. I came back to find the stock tank broken from the water hose, completely tipped upside down and being hurled at a rapid speed down into the center of the 10 acre field by the bull himself, with the oxen cheering him on all the way. I was not pleased.

Upon other things, he has single handedly destroyed a 10x12 dog kennel that was sitting behind the barn. (That was not so much fun to put back together), bent the metal water line leading to the water tub, and he keeps busting the pipe fencing out from between the metal pipe fence posts.  He trims the trees, stirs my compost (but first he had to completely dismantle the pallet walls, which took me a good day to set up and build.), and he keeps Will's welding skills on a monthly demand as he is always breaking something from all the roughhousing. Did I mention he managed to knock my 4 year old mare, Dixie, completely over on her back and push her under the barbed wire fencing. Thank the Lord, she stayed still until we got there to cut the wires. She was very patient, and that was a blessing. Most horses freak out in situations like that and make it worse. We didn't put the two in the same pasture after that.

He seems to enjoy parading himself around the pasture as head honcho around here. Maybe that's why we don't see eye to eye. He teases the oxen, which are two castrated bulls, and rubs in their face the fact that they just don't 'have what it takes' anymore. I often find them chasing each other around the field and then the bull will actually lay down to fight with them, since they are half his size. One of my oxen, Duke, has a love affair with him. It's ridiculous and hilarious at the same time.

I do have a healthy fear of him. I respect him and his space by never turning my back and always have an escape route planned. Bulls are unpredictable - always. My Grandfather was almost killed by one. He will be able to spend the summer breeding the cows again after they calve this spring and then this fall he will probably go to the B.S. (Butcher Shop).... to become Bull-ogna....



Good Chicken

Who doesn’t like chicken? Well…vegetarians and vegans of course, but for this post we’ll just assume you, who are reading this, at some point really craved and enjoyed a good piece of chicken. Now, let’s define ‘good’.  The Mc D chicken nuggets are a hit, Subway chicken sandwiches, Hot wings during your favorite playoff game and the always popular KFC….The Colonels chicken is the #1 requested last meal of those inmates on death row you know.  Or how about trying to find the best chicken in the local supermarket without having a slight anxiety attack over, vegetarian fed, organic, no hormones, and then you pick out what you think is the best and the price per lb hits you like a bad dream. Then you just settle for what everyone else can afford and hope it doesn’t make you sick.

My Definition of good chicken:

 I got a phone call on November 18^th from the local post office at 4:30 a.m. saying my 30 chicks had arrived. Immediate panic set in. They hatched yesterday, were put into a box, shipped overnight, Frigid morning of low teens, and chicks need heat immediately and I know the Postal Service doesn’t provide that.  I got my truck to the highest temp I could muster before sticking my head out the window for a deep breath.  20 minutes later, I had them safe and sound in a comfy, heated chicken palace in our barn, their innocent chirping subsided to full bellies and nap time. 

 Fed and watered daily, you could literally watch them grow before your eyes. No time lapse needed. I knew what they were being fed, I was in control of the humane conditions they were raised in, and we knew their outcome would be inevitable, but that is what they were created for.

6 Weeks later and 250 pounds of feed I can honestly say I’ve never seen anything grow so fast. Well, weeds maybe. These Broiler chickens are genetically designed to grow fast. To Feed America Quick. They literally have coronaries due to their rapid growth rate. We lost 6 birds during this experience and were told that is a good ratio. You will rarely end up with the same # you begin with. We sold some to another farmer wanting chicken for his family. We ended up butchering and processing 15 for ourselves.
(the white ones are the meat birds)

To end a life is always a hard experience. If you didn’t feel some sort of sadness, you wouldn’t be normal. If we didn’t kill the chickens, their lives would be wasted and they would eventually grow so large their legs and hearts would not be able to maintain their weight. Which is worse? William did them in and cleaned them. I processed them, by packaging up legs, thighs, breasts, wings and tenders in convenient sized packages for our meal preferences. With each bird I literally stood amazed at how the Lord created them. I love to know how things are made, and my appreciation for such an amazing creation has only increased through this experience.  It took us 2 days to finish the butchering and processing.  We have approx 100 lbs of chicken in the freezer and that will last us a very long time. 

After all that hard work, our backs have a bit of complaining to do, but overall, we will appreciate the experience of raising good chicken. We had meatloaf for supper.

Morning Choretime

It’s a very frigid day here in Oklahoma. Ice has saturated the ground as well as covered all the windows of the house. The wind is bellowing from the North, just waiting to take my breath away. Will’s alarm wakes me from a good night’s sleep and my immediate thoughts are 1., bathroom break and 2. Chores. Chores consist of several things, all of which begin with me bundling up like I’m from the North Pole. (Which most people here consider Maine the North Pole), so you would think I could tolerate it a little better than the locals. Not so. I’m very cold natured it seems.   

Upon setting foot outside the door, I ease my way down the ice covered stairs and out into the barn. The sweet smell of the hay, grain and the 16 animals inside comforts me in a way that most would not understand. I  thoroughly enjoy saying 'Good morning' to each one. The horses actually greet me with a nicker, or at least Dixie does, Red is a bit anti social, and they get their grain in their own separate pen so the cattle can munch on their breakfast in peace. When cows and horses pasture together, the horses are most dominant and will keep the cattle from eating. The animals I have are separated when being fed to ensure they all get the proper nutrition for this cold time of the year.

 Next, the Oxen and Bull are fed the leftover hay from the day before that the Beef cows did not eat. The ‘boys’ are much hardier and can flourish off of the leftovers just fine. This way nothing goes to waste. The Three beef cows, Annie, Noelle and Brangus and the two calves are fed a certain amount of hay for the day, and the Dairy cows, Missy and Annabelle get all the hay they can eat. They are producing milk and raising a calf, so they get the best feed and the highest quantities as they are burning more calories.

I check the cat and dog food dishes, give them fresh water if need be and make sure there is enough extra hay on the floor for Jade and Scout to cuddle up into if they find themselves outside at some point during the day. The rabbits are next as they get a handful of alfalfa, some pellets, fresh water and a “Good Morning” pet from me. Finally, I throw the chickens some scratch grains to keep them occupied until they are released into the yard around 1 or 2 pm. If kept in their coop/pen for the first half of the day, their eggs will be laid in the nest boxes and I won’t have to run around trying to find them or watch Scout enjoying them in the back yard when she finds them before me.  

Now to warm up….you are probably thinking I’m almost done and going inside. Nope….now it’s time to milk. I give the two milk cows their grain, which they have been salivating for since they saw me walk into the barn earlier. When given grain they are happy, occupied and let their milk down. That’s right; they actually have to relax for you to milk them easily. It’s comparable to when you have to urinate very badly and hold it. They can hold it if they want too. Grain is an automatic deterrent.  Their udders are cleaned and for this morning I only have to milk Missy, as the baby calf is eagerly nursing behind me on Annabelle, her tail hitting me in the shoulder with each gulp she takes.  When a calf nurses, their tail is swishing at rapid rates as if that is the propeller behind getting their breakfast consumed as fast as possible. 

It’s quiet, cold and the radio plays country music in the background. I’m bundled up in at least 3 layers, hat and hoodie covering my head, sitting on a bucket between two cows, one nursing, and me milking the other. My goal is to get these two gallons without Missy taking a step forward and dumping the bucket.  My nose is inches away from her side, I can hear her belly grumble and her deep breathes echo in her lungs. The heat radiates from her onto my cold face. This is a peaceful place.  At first my fingers are numb, but warm with each squeeze until I have an unceasing stream of milk filling into my pail. I picture myself on the Amazing Race show, being the fastest one to fill the pail of milk….I daydream for awhile as the rhythm puts me into other places, like what’s going on at Dad’s barn in Maine today, or how many customers will call wanting milk this weekend, or who ever thought after years of milking cows with a machine I’d be doing this by hand ( although the parts have been ordered for my machine) ….OUCH!!.., what is going on?…as I find my face being shoved forward into my lap and my right arm swings out behind me to push the force off my back..!....the calf apparently was done eating and thought my backside would be a great place to climb on. I didn’t see that coming and she’s laughing at me. Honestly, laughing……catching the attention of Missy who looks around her grain pail as if to say…”Hurry up already.”…it made them laugh too….

The calf at one month old, is just getting accustom to human kindness. After barely dodging her climbing efforts I reach to scratch the top of her head where her little horns are starting to grow. No need to discipline her, she didn’t know any better and this makes her happy as it’s the same kind of relief that is needed when a baby is teething.  She leaves me to finish what I started and goes to harass the horses through the fence for awhile, kicking up her heels on the way. In about 15 minutes that milk she drank will knock her out into a sleepy slumber for the rest of the morning. What I like to call, milk drunk.

Missy is relived of her 2 gallons and I’m headed into the house to filter, bottle and cool the milk. I’ll head back out to the barn after about an hour when they are done eating and let them all out to enjoy the pasture for the day. More milking tonight….I hope it warms up a bit.

Welcome to our Blog!

Welcome to our blog! I decided after numerous years of wanting to keep some sort of journal and sharing our farm life experiences with my family and friends, that maybe, just maybe this avenue may be of interest to those seeking a 'close to the land' story from time to time.

William, my husband of 6 years now, and I have settled onto 40 acres on the southeast side of Duncan, OK - pop approx 23K. We are located smack dab in the middle of the Chisholm Trail, which is considered a wonder of the western culture in this part of the country. the trail was used for pushing longhorn cattle North, from Texas to Abilene, KS in the late 1800's. From Kansas the cattle would be loaded onto railways and travel east to the major cities where they would be butchered, processed and of course, eaten.

Being from the Northeast, I often pictured Oklahoma as the horrible images from the Dust Bowl or the infamous "Twister" movie. The people dry up and literally blow away. Now being here for 4 years, I can say it is nothing like that at all. I Love my home state of Maine and will always be a true, "Mainah in Exile", however, our little place does feel like home to me and I am blessed with all the Lord has given us to care for and love.

Currently, William has a day job as a drafter/NC programmer at Halliburton. It was this job opportunity that brought us to move to the Midwest. I consider myself a domestic agricultural engineer as I enjoy having an important label as well. We established Ox Creek Farm in spring of 2007 and sell milk, eggs, grass fed beef and other produce grown on our farm.

As you get to know us and share in our experiences as we live close to the land, I hope you will grow to enjoy it as much as we do. If anything, be open to learning, eager to appreciate, and willing to understand where the importance of such a lifestyle falls in this fast paced world.