Just too cute to make this photo any smaller...
That is Larry, the best of last years bulls. He is a clone of his father with the same pleasant disposition. Loves to get his chin and ears rubbed. Need to find a home for him, he is just WAY too good of an animal to put into our meat program. Thought I had him sold this spring, but the deal appears to have fallen through.
Oh, also in the photo is my son, Frank... As usual on the farm, no shoes. Not even in the winter - just can't keep them on him. We gave up trying.
In the background is some of the earthwork I talked about in previous post.
So today we worked on raising that fence we layed out the previous night. And worked... and worked... and did a bit of planning, and more work. Eventually turned what started out as a small holding/sorting pen into a switchyard. We can now sort between three fields, with a fourth planned. Dozen of T-post driven, half-a-dozen wooden post set, and hundreds of feet of electric wire recycled (meaning hours of untangling) from previous projects. Since we can't cross tree lines like the cattle can, we need to have one equipment gate added as well. Quit about 6pm, totally exhausted, but with a nice feeling of accomplishment. Went in, drank a quart of tang and another quart of water, cooked up more brats and took a break.
Finished the day by going down to the bee hives, in full gear, and removing the old frame body and related parts (we had left them full of bees so they they could move on and settle in). Had noticed the night before that the cinder blocks where the old hive was placed was full of bees, as in maybe 5000 of them, and they were not resettling into the new hives. Not a total surprise, bees tend to "home" into one spot. In an ideal world, you move hives at least 3 miles in order to reset their homing instinct, but instead my hives were placed a mere dozen feet from where the original was. Net result - those that moved with the foundations, inside of the hive, were fine. Those that were outside came "home" to discover no home. Solution? Pick up the cinder block, covered with 3 layers of bees, and move it in front of one of the hives. Bees were NOT happy. Dozens were swarming me trying to sting, but the gear protected me - almost. The veil came in contact with my chin, and one bee managed to sting me there. Also, half the lost colony was still on the ground and in the grass - nothing to do but to disturb them in hopes they discovered on the hives. More unhappy bees. Ended up walking the 500 feet or so back to the house and STILL had a dozen or so trying to attack me. Gave them some time and then gave up and started whacking them. Eventually timed it and ducked into the house.
We didn't get on the road until almost 9pm, home around midnight.
Overall - an EXCELLENT weekend!
That is Larry, the best of last years bulls. He is a clone of his father with the same pleasant disposition. Loves to get his chin and ears rubbed. Need to find a home for him, he is just WAY too good of an animal to put into our meat program. Thought I had him sold this spring, but the deal appears to have fallen through.
Oh, also in the photo is my son, Frank... As usual on the farm, no shoes. Not even in the winter - just can't keep them on him. We gave up trying.
In the background is some of the earthwork I talked about in previous post.
So today we worked on raising that fence we layed out the previous night. And worked... and worked... and did a bit of planning, and more work. Eventually turned what started out as a small holding/sorting pen into a switchyard. We can now sort between three fields, with a fourth planned. Dozen of T-post driven, half-a-dozen wooden post set, and hundreds of feet of electric wire recycled (meaning hours of untangling) from previous projects. Since we can't cross tree lines like the cattle can, we need to have one equipment gate added as well. Quit about 6pm, totally exhausted, but with a nice feeling of accomplishment. Went in, drank a quart of tang and another quart of water, cooked up more brats and took a break.
Finished the day by going down to the bee hives, in full gear, and removing the old frame body and related parts (we had left them full of bees so they they could move on and settle in). Had noticed the night before that the cinder blocks where the old hive was placed was full of bees, as in maybe 5000 of them, and they were not resettling into the new hives. Not a total surprise, bees tend to "home" into one spot. In an ideal world, you move hives at least 3 miles in order to reset their homing instinct, but instead my hives were placed a mere dozen feet from where the original was. Net result - those that moved with the foundations, inside of the hive, were fine. Those that were outside came "home" to discover no home. Solution? Pick up the cinder block, covered with 3 layers of bees, and move it in front of one of the hives. Bees were NOT happy. Dozens were swarming me trying to sting, but the gear protected me - almost. The veil came in contact with my chin, and one bee managed to sting me there. Also, half the lost colony was still on the ground and in the grass - nothing to do but to disturb them in hopes they discovered on the hives. More unhappy bees. Ended up walking the 500 feet or so back to the house and STILL had a dozen or so trying to attack me. Gave them some time and then gave up and started whacking them. Eventually timed it and ducked into the house.
We didn't get on the road until almost 9pm, home around midnight.
Overall - an EXCELLENT weekend!
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