The cold we experienced a few weeks ago was intense – to say the least. At the time, we hadn’t dried the cows off and the only way to keep my fingers from freezing was to warm them every so often on an udder during the milking. You could see the steam rising from the muck and the yard was like one of those “dancing on ice” places, though I learned I’m not suited to pirouetting in my wellies. The cows did a bit better, but that’s only because they have two extra legs.
Luckily, we escaped things like frozen pipes during the cold spell. I did make one mistake, though – I forgot to turn down the cooler in the bulk tank. As we were nearing the end of milking, I came out one morning to a friendly note from the milk man: “Your milk is frozen; we don’t take ice pops.”
Sure enough, I had a small iceberg at the bottom of the tank. I had to do a good bit of power washing to shift it.
Now, the weather has been dry and with just a few days left before Christmas, we are all dried off. I had the cows out to grass up until two weeks ago, but I knew they couldn’t be bothered going out after a few days of giving them the option. I left the gate open for them to wander down to the paddock and I’d say not two hours later, they were back. They just prefer the warmth of the shed and having a nice, cosy mat to lay down on.
Sure, why would you want to walk to your food when the local takeaway is just a few metres away? It’s like Uber Eats for cows; if only that stingy farmer would throw in some sweet dairy nuts while he’s at it.
In all fairness, I love a frosty morning. There’s something cleansing about it and it makes me feel more outdoorsy. You know the feeling – you’re all geared up like you’re about to scale Mount Everest. The gloves, hat, warm jacket, long beard and that “slow mo” look about you as you stare to the sky. It’s like I’m starring in my own documentary on Discovery: Frozen Farmers.
In all fairness, I love a frosty morning. There’s something cleansing about it and it makes me feel more outdoorsy
In this week’s episode, learn how to unfreeze a water trough without getting hypothermia (spoiler alert: the farmer uses a blow torch and now has no eyebrows).
Christmas is a great time to clean the place up and fix a few things, but my father always seems to find the oddest jobs to do, like outdoor
painting. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s not too much daylight these days and at this time of year, the weather is anything but predictable.
I’m not too sure how all of this outdoor paint is going to dry, but anyway, I go along on the journey to please him. It’s not really the painting he’s into anyway – it’s this new gadget he’s got to spray oil on to the fencing posts.
Actually, calling it a gadget is probably making it sound higher tech than it is. It’s a canister on wheels which is hooked up to an air compressor. The canister is filled with oil and the idea is to use the air pressure to spray the fence. This all sounds great in theory, but in practice we found the old oil to be too thick – in fact, it was clogging up the nozzle on us.
“There is only one thing for it,” my father said. “I need a pair of your wife’s tights.”
As you can imagine, this kind of threw me a bit. I know it’s cold and all, but wearing tights isn’t a good look for a 70-year-old farmer.
Anyway, it turns out I read too much into that request – he was just looking for something the oil could filter through.
So, the painting is done and the farm is looking well, Christmas has thrown up all over the house and everyone is happier for it. We are all tired and it’s time for a break to enjoy the festivities.
The wife – ever the opportunist – has booked a few nights away. I haven’t told her about stealing all her tights, so I’m keeping my mouth shut and doing my best to stay in her good books.
Read more
Desperate Farmhusband: should we introduce COVID measures to the cows?
Desperate Farmwife: ‘what is it about 40 which makes one feel so confident?'
The cold we experienced a few weeks ago was intense – to say the least. At the time, we hadn’t dried the cows off and the only way to keep my fingers from freezing was to warm them every so often on an udder during the milking. You could see the steam rising from the muck and the yard was like one of those “dancing on ice” places, though I learned I’m not suited to pirouetting in my wellies. The cows did a bit better, but that’s only because they have two extra legs.
Luckily, we escaped things like frozen pipes during the cold spell. I did make one mistake, though – I forgot to turn down the cooler in the bulk tank. As we were nearing the end of milking, I came out one morning to a friendly note from the milk man: “Your milk is frozen; we don’t take ice pops.”
Sure enough, I had a small iceberg at the bottom of the tank. I had to do a good bit of power washing to shift it.
Now, the weather has been dry and with just a few days left before Christmas, we are all dried off. I had the cows out to grass up until two weeks ago, but I knew they couldn’t be bothered going out after a few days of giving them the option. I left the gate open for them to wander down to the paddock and I’d say not two hours later, they were back. They just prefer the warmth of the shed and having a nice, cosy mat to lay down on.
Sure, why would you want to walk to your food when the local takeaway is just a few metres away? It’s like Uber Eats for cows; if only that stingy farmer would throw in some sweet dairy nuts while he’s at it.
In all fairness, I love a frosty morning. There’s something cleansing about it and it makes me feel more outdoorsy. You know the feeling – you’re all geared up like you’re about to scale Mount Everest. The gloves, hat, warm jacket, long beard and that “slow mo” look about you as you stare to the sky. It’s like I’m starring in my own documentary on Discovery: Frozen Farmers.
In all fairness, I love a frosty morning. There’s something cleansing about it and it makes me feel more outdoorsy
In this week’s episode, learn how to unfreeze a water trough without getting hypothermia (spoiler alert: the farmer uses a blow torch and now has no eyebrows).
Christmas is a great time to clean the place up and fix a few things, but my father always seems to find the oddest jobs to do, like outdoor
painting. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s not too much daylight these days and at this time of year, the weather is anything but predictable.
I’m not too sure how all of this outdoor paint is going to dry, but anyway, I go along on the journey to please him. It’s not really the painting he’s into anyway – it’s this new gadget he’s got to spray oil on to the fencing posts.
Actually, calling it a gadget is probably making it sound higher tech than it is. It’s a canister on wheels which is hooked up to an air compressor. The canister is filled with oil and the idea is to use the air pressure to spray the fence. This all sounds great in theory, but in practice we found the old oil to be too thick – in fact, it was clogging up the nozzle on us.
“There is only one thing for it,” my father said. “I need a pair of your wife’s tights.”
As you can imagine, this kind of threw me a bit. I know it’s cold and all, but wearing tights isn’t a good look for a 70-year-old farmer.
Anyway, it turns out I read too much into that request – he was just looking for something the oil could filter through.
So, the painting is done and the farm is looking well, Christmas has thrown up all over the house and everyone is happier for it. We are all tired and it’s time for a break to enjoy the festivities.
The wife – ever the opportunist – has booked a few nights away. I haven’t told her about stealing all her tights, so I’m keeping my mouth shut and doing my best to stay in her good books.
Read more
Desperate Farmhusband: should we introduce COVID measures to the cows?
Desperate Farmwife: ‘what is it about 40 which makes one feel so confident?'
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