We are beat down tonight, but I am going to make a quick post linking to Spencer’s new side project. The Amish farmer from whom we buy delicious raw cream and butter on occasion, has asked us if we could help him set up a website to sell his certified organic garlic online. We have pointed out to a couple people that this is pretty much akin to the blind leading the blind, because although we use the internet, we are not really very web savvy. But, he’s a great guy, his garlic is awesome, and we figured it couldn’t hurt to try. If any of it sells via the site we get a little cut of the purchase too, which is very generous of him. The real work is in the growing!
If you happen to know of anyone interested in buying organic garlic to plant, or even for the table (the difference is in the size of the bulbs), please keep Aaron Miller in mind! And if you have any advice for some not-quite with it web desginers (ha, that’s a joke), feel free to tell it! We had a heck of a time with the “buy it now” buttons on WordPress trying to make it easy to order online.
And as I mentioned in a short post earlier, we were busy today with a calf who is having trouble nursing. The cow, although an attentive and interested mother, has a really horrible udder.
We kept hearing about udder shape and conformation in dairy literature–that they need to be “well attached” and that a good udder is “nice and tight with a lot of capacity”, but nothing clarifies the positive wanted as much as the negative that you are given. This cow has a ridiculously misshapen and ugly udder, with teats sticking off in different direction, shaped like torpedos, a couple little useless ones that don’t give milk in funny places, and so not “well attached” it practically drags on the ground. It’s fugly, but at least it’s full of milk.
Anyway, we have to help the calf latch on each time she nurses. That means luring momma into the headgate so she wont run Spencer down (actually not too hard, she is greedy for treats), and once she is secured, bringing baby over, and pretty much sticking her face onto the ugly nipple. Then we make sure she she gets enough. We are hoping she will get the hang of it quickly and that we will be able to get her and momma out of the barn and back on pasture soon.
Also, my great grandfather’s memorial service was today. He gave me my freckles, a portion of my temper, and my red hair–and I can probably blame at least 50% of my farming interests on him, because he loved it. He was 94. Sorry to be so far away, but I’ll always remember him. Did I mention he could yodel? How can you ever forget anyone who yodels? Never.