MAD COW, Part Two....

 Unfortunately, we will need to sell her mom, so we decided to let Daisy have her way, and allow her to adopt the new baby! It's funny to see the three of them walking out into the pasture - Snowflake (real mom) on one side, Daisy (adoptive mom) on the other, and baby in the middle.

So far, I think Snowflake actually enjoys the help rearing the child, Daisy is MUCH happier, and Baby likes the fact she can snitch from both.

This afternoon, we came home from a short trip, and saw all three of them in the pasture, close to the barn. They were hanging out under a nice shade tree, just chewing the day away.  When we got the truck unloaded, we took the Doxies for a walk. Of course, Peaches stayed at a distance from the cows, but Autumn, barged right into the pasture like she owns the place.

I guess Daisy took offence at this, and came stomping over to get rid of the menace in the hotdog suit. I figured out right away what Daisy was doing (as if Autumn would hurt the calf....), and got between the two. Autumn side-stepped me, lunged at Daisy, and snapped.

This stopped Daisy dead in her tracks, but she still had that "look" in her eye, so I decided to pick the mean grizzly bear up, and get her out of harm's way.

Meanwhile, the baby got up, came over and sniffed Autumn's nose. I guess Daisy wasn't impressed, because she walked off snorting....

Some people's kids! Make friends with a ferocious beast like Autumn!

Oh well, it was nice to know that the little one is well protected.

We finally got word today that the paperwork for the sale of our farm has been signed! It's a good thing - we've already found a place in Missouri, and need to get packing! Can't wait until it's all over with!

Anyone wanting to volunteer to help pack and load the truck is MORE than welcome to stop by!

MAD COW! MAD COW! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!

It wasn't a "fun" morning on the Hillbilly Hill...we had an attack of the mad cow this morning....

As usual, things started out with a jaunt up (and over) the hill to retrieve the cows from their jungle haven. They really like it down there, because the grass is nice and tender, it shady (VERY shady), and LOTS of space to hide in.

I now know where the term "cowhide" comes from, because they LOVE to hide....

At any rate, on the trip up the hill to the barn, I noticed Snowflake had something hanging off the side of her face. Thinking it was just a "sticker" from a bush, I walked up to her to remove it. Unfortunately, upon further review, it was not a sticker, or weed, or any other kind of vegetation - it was a 1/4" round piece of steel rod that was hooked inside her eye socket -

and she wasn't to thrilled about me touching it.

Well, right then and there, I knew this Sunday morning wasn't going to be a normal Sabbath morning, but I continued with getting them in for milking anyhow. Afterwords, I went inside to call the Vet, and tell my lovely wife what I had found. The Vet told me that she COULD pull it out, but it wouldn't be very cost effective because she wouldn't do much more then what I would - pull it out, then spray it with something.

Now, this particular cow s pregnant, and does NOT like to be in the barn - I guess she is claustrophobic, or something. At any rate, it's VERY hard to get her into the BARN, let alone the stanchion - especially if she knows you want her to go there. She will follow the other girls into the back room of the barn, but leaves when a person walks in.

So, there we were - Hillbilly, Wife of Hillbilly, and Sister-in-Law of Hillbilly, trying to get the cow to cooperate and git in the barn. We put in a few posts, wired up a few panels, and made a "lane" to funnel her beside the barn.
We ALMOST had her on the first try - until she figured out what we wanted. Then, it was three stupid humans against one determined cow - and the cow was WINNING.

After about an hour, we FINALLY got her to go into the back room of the barn with the other cows. Now, we had to chase them through, leave her in there, then funnel her to the stanchion. All was going well, until she decided to take on the door, and rip the chain off of it so she could escape to freedom.

Next, we reinforced the doors, and funneled all the cows through once again. THIS time, we actually got the right cow in the milk room....

But not in the stanchion. She fought and fought, until we decided to just (hopefully) tie her to the head stall(since she refused to stick her head IN it), and work from there. Well, we got her tied, and I whipped out my pliers to grab a hold of that metal rod. I pulled hard enough that the pliers slipped off and went flying, but the rod held fast.

Now, she REALLY wasn't happy! She fought the rope for a bit, then lay down on the floor. I seized my chance, grabbed the pliers, got a GOOD hold on the rod, and worked it out of her eye socket.



My lovely wife then handed me the spray, and the job was done - except....

We had forgotten to hatch an "exit strategy"....

I knew that cow was not a happy cow, and could feel her pulling on the rope, I held it as tight as I could and yelled for the two women to "Get out of the barn, NOW!".

All I saw were two girls running for their lives, trying to open a latched door, and a cow trying to get up off the floor and head for freedom. Somehow, my lovely wife PASSED my SIL, opened the door, and hit daylight at a dead run. She - for SOME reason - stopped about ten feet outside, and tried to hide behind a metal "T" post, while my SIL dove in behind her.

I held the rope as long as I could, and my last sight of the cow was her heading for the door, at Warp 9 with the rope still around her neck (loosely). I walked outside, and saw her (the cow) standing just up the hill from the barn with that rope dangling from her neck.

There was NO way I was getting close enough to get it, so I just let her calm down awhile (I did get it off her about an hour later).

I turned and saw those two women laughing hysterically about trying to hide behind that T post. It's one of those times when I wish I had had my video camera going.....I can just envision the theme song from "Benny Hill" playing in the background as they got out of the barn, and made themselves "small" ....

It might be a good thing the cow could only see out of one eye at the time...

My Wife Is Turning Into A Bohemian....

Three or four months ago, a friend of mine bought a couple of Farmall F-20 tractors from a man near Prague, Nebraska. On a cold, windy Saturday, we ventured up with his trailer to pick them up.

For those of you who don't know, Prague is in a heavily Bohemian populated area of Nebraska - and some of my mother's ancestors were from the area (some relatives are still there).

Now, after we got things loaded, we took a tour of the man's farm, and also part of his father's place. Both of them had some interesting "stuff"! After looking around for awhile, all three of us settled into leaning on the pickup, and telling stories - most of which were between me and the man who sold the tractors.

Mainly because we were both Bohemians....

There we were, telling stories of growing up with "Bohunk" relatives. Then, the stories turned to food.

We discussed things like Jaternice (Yeet-thur-neet-sa), Blood Pudding, Pickled Pig's Feet, Sour Kraut, and then--

Boiled Chicken Feet.

I wasn't very old when she died, but I can remember my Grandmother nibbling on those feet like an ear of corn. There isn't much meat on them, but she'd nibble until it was all gone.

Evidently, not an appetizing event for most non-Bohemians....

The friend I when up there with, looked like he was gonna turn green if we kept talking about it. I doubt he said a single word for about 20 minutes while he listened to tales of opening the lid on a boiling soup pan, just to see chicken feet sticking out of the broth. At one point, I'm SURE I saw him almost throw up!

At any rate, he was relieved we shut up long enough for him to start the truck and head for home before we started to talk about something REALLY gross!

There is an old saying "When Bohemians butcher a hog, they use everything, except the squeal..."
Apparently, the same holds true for chickens...

This morning, I butchered 2 of 4 old Roosters, that my Lovely wife's dad had given us - and was EXPRESSLY told to save the feet.



My wife isn't Bohemian, so I kinda looked at her cross-eyed, but ok, you want the feet, you got the feet.
I scrubbed them clean, soaked them, scrubbed them some more, soaked them again, then did a final cleaning, before adding them to the crock pot with the rest of the birds.



We decided that we'd share, so we asked that same friend who I went to Prague with, over for supper tomorrow night.

For SOME reason, he was "less than enthusiastic" about it.....  

Deja Vu...All Over AGAIN...

Once upon a time, in a scrap yard far, far away, there lived a Fairly (rusted) Princess. This Princess was actually cast out of her castle, and forced to live outside among the serfs of the Kingdom - There with her were all kinds of evil riff-raff, and castaways -

Sir Plow of the Broken Bottom - A fallen Knight whose age befell him.

Lady Harrow - sentenced to the serve remainder of her life  scratching out a meager existence in the dirt.

Nut Case - former Court Jester.

Allis of Chalmers - former Lady in Waiting at the castle, but ended up waiting too long.

But the most EVIL, VILE creature in the entire are was:

Lord Johnny Popper - even his voice would cause nausea in good and noble citizens.

But our story had a happy ending for our Fairly Rusted Princess - she was rescued by the King from a Northern Kingdom - the Kingdom of the Red. The Princess underwent a complete transformation under the hands of the Good King Red - so much so, that she no longer carried the "Rust" part of her name - She would now be known as the Fairly PAINTED Princess.

Now, the Good king Red's reputation for saving good castaway citizens had spread at least 15 miles so, one day, another tossed aside Princess showed up in the Kingdom. She was Fairly (in Pieces) Princess, and about 10 years older. While she is not fully restored to her former glory, the Good King Red is working on her to build up her self esteem. One day, she too, will be able to roam the Kingdom in splendor.

Next, this happened - Unbeknownst to the Good King Red, there lay a PRINCE of Rust in the same deprived land as the other two. He had been rescued by Sir Kirk of Farmall, and was waiting to come back to life once again. He, too, is scheduled to arrive at Kingdom of Red to begin HIS restoration.

The odd thing is, BOTH the Fairly Painted Princess, and the Prince of Rust look very much alike, at least at the point they arrived at the Kingdom. (besides obvious differences - the Princess is from the "F-20" clan, while the Prince is of the "F-30" lineage)

We will need to wait until the transformation has taken place to see how different they really are......

The Prince of Rust:




Fairy (Rusted) Princess:

East Bound And Down...

Remember this photo from my last post? This is Snowflake reacting to something I told her:



We've been keeping a "loose" secret for 3-4 weeks now - only telling SOME family, and a few close friends. I guess now, the cat's out of the bag (so to speak...), so we can tell the rest of the world.
We went into town and paid a visit to a local realtor friend of ours - and he took down our information so he could list our farm for sale!

We've decided that we need to move closer to family in Missouri, and leave this Hillbilly Hill.

Let me refresh your memory on how we came about calling our God given farm Hillbilly Hill......

It was 4 or 5 years ago, and certain people did not like how we did things on OUR farm. They complained to everyone who might listen, some of which, in turn, told us.

There were gripes about:

How our mail box leaned
How our chicken house was built
How our driveway looked
How our barn was made out of scrounged materials
How our barn wasn't painted
How I collected old pieces of iron
How we dressed
Our chickens
Our goats
Our cows
Our "crooked" fence posts
Even my crooked cane I used....

The list continues, but you get the idea....

One such person (who wants to remain anonymous - but we knew right off who it was...) even sent several things through the mail addressed to "Hillbilly Hill Farm".

I SUPPOSE this was a feeble attempt to "shame" us into "changing our ways"... Instead, it made us laugh our behinds off! It was the PERFECT name for our farm! From that moment on we referred to our patch of ground as that same "Hillbilly Hill Farm".

Now, we have a problem - when we DO move to another place, we can't call it Hillbilly Hill because it will be a different place. Our LIFESTYLE won't change, but the farm will.

We don't know where we will end up - we'll let God take care of that - but we want to have a few ideas ready so we can christen our new "ranch".

I thought of "Dogpatch", but it was already taken....

At any rate - we don't know how long it will take, but we hope to be moving soon.

Here is a link to an info page my wife made about our farm for sale:

Hillbilly Hill Farm

Superchicken Strikes Again....

It's been awhile since our favorite feathered Super Hero has (dared) show his head,but it happened this morning....

There I was, minding my own business, having fun playing with a couple tractor parts in the barn. It was a quiet Sunday morning - albeit a BIT hot - the cows were lazing in the barnyard, the cats were playing tag in the barn, the Polar Bear dog snoozed heavily in the shade in my lovely wife's flower bed.

I've been TRYING to break her of that, but she sneaks in when I ain't looking.

Anyhow, the chickens were milling about, clucking softly, then all heck broke loose.

A neighbor had delivered a big round bale of hay about an hour earlier. He dumped it over the fence with his front end loader, then headed on home. That's when I headed out to cut the netting off the bale. It landed on end, so it was fairly simple to remove it. I wadded up the net, and turned around to take it to the barn. That's when I took another look at the bale, and noticed that a piece of netting about 5' long, and 1 foot wide was still attached to it.

Well, I turned right around, and grabbed that piece so nobody would try to eat the thing. I guess that, that small piece caught on the old tractor I have sitting by the gate, because it - apparently - did not make it into the barn.

And it was the cause of the pandemonium later in the morning.

As I said, I was minding my own business when, all of a sudden, every chicken in the world starts screaming and yelling. That's when I notice our hero running by the barn as fast as he could - screaming his head off - with that piece of netting attached to his foot.

Evidently, he was fooling with something he shouldn't have been fooling with, and it chased him all over the yard, with about a dozen other chickens in hot pursuit. They followed him around, and around, until that netting chased him through a "slightly larger than a chicken" hole in the fence, and caught on the wire.

Superbird had been running at flank speed when he came to the end of his short "leash". He did a back flip, landed face down in the dirt just in time for the gaggle following him to catch up and pounce on the poor sod.

Talk about kicking someone when they are down....

Well, at least he managed to extricate himself from the net - it was laying there, as if noting at all had happened.

On another front - we have some "Big News" to tell in the near future - I told the cows, and I'm hoping they can keep a secret. Anyhoo, this was Snowflake's reaction:



Stay tuned....

Weekend Fun...

WAY back in August of 2010, a friend of mine told me he had an old tractor I could have...


It wasn't much to look at - just a frame and a pile of parts. My lovely wife just shook her head when she saw it being dragged of the trailer.



Her dad said "THAT will take a LOT of work..." I figured that a lot of the work was already done - there wasn't much left to tear apart.....

Then, last November, it was to the point where - with the help of a friend - we got her started. I had had back surgery, so I couldn't even TURN the crank, let alone pull it hard enough to actually start the tractor. But - at least - she DID run. Here is a link to the blog post from back then POKE HERE.

Well - that's when I hit the "brick wall" The ONE FINAL thing I needed was 85w140 gear oil for the rear-end, transmission, and axles. When I checked around, the average price was in the $10 to $12 a gallon range - and I needed 8 gallons.
So - there she sat, in the barn, gathering dust for lack of funds for oil. At least it was winter - if it had been spring or summer, I'd have been bummed!

At least, over the past 4-5 months, my back has gotten better. Ever so often, I'd walk by my lonely tractor, and attempt to turn that crank handle. It slowly got better - to the point I felt confident that I could actually START the motor, instead of having someone else do it. By mid-February, I knew I'd be able to get her going when I did find money for oil.

Enter "Spring Cleaning"....

I've been hauling a few things to scrap lately - more stuff then I figured I even HAD. Then, one day last week, my lovely wife tells me "Why don't you use some of the money from scrap to buy that oil for your tractor?"

Well - my arm had done been twisted!` I hurriedly loaded up some more stuff, and headed out to the scrapyard the next day. It was a day or two, before I got things to the point where I could put any of the oil in the tractor, but I FINALLY got it done Saturday afternoon. THEN....

We had to leave, so my fun was over for the day....

Sunday dawned warm and sunny. I went out and milked the cows, fed the chickens, got mauled by the cats wanting their breakfast, and then fed me. Afterwards, I mosied out to the barn to give everything a final "once over" and to make sure things were greased up.

Then, I called a friend to come over to make sure I didn't "blow anything up".

He came over about 4:00 in the afternoon, and checked things out. I had already put gas in, so we were ready to go. I grabbed the crank handle, gave it a few turns, and she coughed to life! The FIRST time I had ever been able to start her!

We tinkered here and there, shut her off a couple times, tinkered some more, the Kirk said "You can back her out - if you want to...."

NAW, I'll pass....

RIGHT! I was up in the seat in a flash, moved the gearshift into reverse, let out on the clutch, and...

NOTHING MOVED.

I mashed down on the clutch again, then put the gearshift ALL THE WAY into reverse, let the clutch out once more, and we started rolling backwards out of the barn.

We had pulled and pushed that old F-20 around the yard, into and out of the barn, and re-arranged it while IN the barn, but this was the first time she ever rolled around under her own power!

She was running a little rough, but smoothed down more and more the longer she ran. We tinkered some more, and I FINALLY was able to take a trip around the yard.



We drove it around for awhile, then tinkered some more, and finally shut her off for the day.
I still need to adjust a few things, and - of course - paint, but she's pretty close to DONE.

Can't wait for show season.....