Last night we were sitting outside eating our simple repast, the food supplied by our own wee farm, when we heard a worrying creaky noise coming from Pats Paddock. I could see part of the big paddock, and noticed the Murphys (lambs for dinner) and Mia (lamb forever) galloping across the field. 
Then there was another very obvious creak followed by an ominous crack. Probably Daisy behind the tree, I said to Our John who grunted and started eating faster. I was on those last few mouthfuls of dinner. You know the one bite when there is the perfect mix of pasta (made with our own eggs) and spinach (from the garden) with sunflower seeds (from down the road) and the fresh tomato salad (yes we are still picking tomatoes, sigh) has become warm and sweet. All the tastes are individual but melting towards each other. You go and see. I said, collecting the perfect forkful. I just want to eat his last bit. John looked up.
Really big creaky, wiry, posty, breaky fency noise, yikes. We both jumped up, I dropped the domed fly covers over the plates, on went the gumboots and we ran down the verandah steps, through the garden, across the track and round behind the tree and there was Daisy. The naughtiest house cow in the world, leaning over the fence and as far out of the paddock into the cornfield as her considerable weight could take her, her tongue, her neck, her whole body at full stretch, trying with all her might to get to that one elusive stalk of corn and taking the fence with her.
Bad cow I was shouting. Daisy NO, John was calling. Daisy NO. Get your head away from that Genetically Modified corn, I am thinking! John ran for the fence I ran through the barn through two gates and out into the paddock with a bucket (the lure). The lambs were still at full gallop, expecting an escape hatch to open up any minute I am sure. Then they would fly through it at top speed and disappear into 400 acres of dry corn.
Daisy always comes when I call her (each set of animal has their own call). So I called her Come on Daisy! Banging on the bucket. She reluctantly turned from argueing the point with John, saw the bucket and leapt towards me. I spun and ran for the barn doors to get her in there. And she came flying after that bucket into the barn. Head and tail still up. Eyes showing way too much white. She is like a 16 hand clydesdale horse of a cow. An Ayrshire cow who thinks she is a horse at full gallop takes a lot of stopping (so I jumped up onto the hay feeder as you would). She was bellowing that John had yelled at her, why couldn’t she have some corn candy, the cows across the creek get corn candy, applying her brakes a bit late as she hit the barn floor. I threw the red bucket to the other side of the barn and she did a 180 degree turn up on two hooves and hurled herself after it and through the other doors into the yards. I slammed the gate. Thinking, I am supposed to be milking this cow this spring.
So now Daisy is back in the potato paddock, by herself. They keep assuring me that after she has had a calf she will settle down. Still no sign of the results from the pregnancy test though.
John went to get the fence repair tools and I ran as fast as my little gumboots could carry me back to the verandah and to my dinner, lifted the cover and oh there it was, the last mouthful. Aah. My mother used to call it the mouses tail. I guess the cat would save the tail for last. If so I am a cat. Queenie is a good girl though. She is my Hereford calf. 
And for my new readers. We are developing an old fashioned sustainably managed farm. We just want to grow our own food in a simple gentle respectful way. It is possible to eliminate processed foods from our diets and be GM free. Sometimes I tell the stories that go with the history of the food we cook. Then we all get distracted. But mostly it is about the wee farm where we live and eat.
So the grapes are in, and the vegetables are winding down except for the leafy greens, silverbeet, swiss chard, beetroot and the new plantings of lettuce, cilantro and spinach. We are picking and drying the red peppers and freezing tomatoes and the big peppers. The last of the pumpkins are in. Soon we will plant the garlic and mow the asparagus. But the wind-down means that the chickens can come out again. In fact their door will not be closed now. They will wander the farm and gardens until about December when it gets really cold. When they will not come out of the chook house anymore then I shall close both their doors and lock them down for the winter.
At the moment they have a half door leaned up against the door so that Hairy McLairy can not get in. Did I tell you he loves to have his ears scratched. I was trying to get all these shots this morning and he kept appearing solemnly and silently right behind me, gently offering his ears for a scratch. And sweet as he is, and now that I am out of earshot, I have to say in the nicest possible way. This ram smells very rammy!
c
The Kitchen's Garden 
81 responses to “A Walk around the Wee Farm with the Purse Camera”
livestock can be so expressive!!!!
Yes they can Chris, they all have their personalities that is for sure! c
That purse camera does quite alright! And I know what you mean by those last few forkfuls where everything has melded into pure tasty bliss. Can see the title of your next post…”Farm Animals gone Wild!” lol t
Farm Animals gone Wild indeed! I shall keep it mind miss T because i know it is coming! c
Oh, man, no perfect pasta bite should be left behind, but when duty calls… I love the shot of the chickens.
thanks greg, that is a sweet little shot too, they are looking around for a space to jump to.. c
The purse camera does exceedingly well!! I don’t envy you the milking with Daisy! I much prefer milking goats, I outweight them in a struggle. 😉
Actually john has said the same thing and he is rather partial to goats cheese but i LOVE butter!! Do you have goats there? c
Right now we are goatless, but have been considering it again. We had them while our children were growinng up because my daughter was allergic to cows milk. Butter made from goat cream is delicious, but you must have a seperator to get it. The goats milk is naturally homogenized, so it doesn’t separate on its own very well. But because of that, it makes what I think is the worlds best ice cream!! And young goat (under 1 year old) makes an absolutely marvelous chicken fried steak! 🙂
Oh.. goat fried steak! perfect.. and I did not know that about goats milk.. thank you.. that goats cheese is good stuff though but i have never had the butter!.. thanks ted.. c
I too love the shot of the chickens, and living vicariously on your farm. I was remembering the other day that when I was younger, I wanted to have my own farm, so it’s lovely to be able to share this experience with you.
I remember the other day when i wanted a little tiny wooden house on the beach with everything painted white! and now i visit the sea with you! isn’t blogging grand.. c
Animal Fram was never like this – be careful though, you know how bossy a group of animals together can be!
oh no, you are right, well i had better keep them well fed! c
You have an awesome little purse camera! I loved reading about your animals and the description of your wild little naughty house cow made me laugh:) What an adventurous life you lead! Oh, and the food….yum…
Even the dull moments are divine.. c
As usual, you made me laugh right out loud. Or Daisy did. In any event, what an eventful dinnertime! No rest for the pasta-eater.
And I daresay your Hairy scratch-cadger looks remarkably sheepish in his portrait today!
Ha ha ha, scratch cadger you have such a way with words.. I am going to go out and tell him.. c
At least you can smell Hairy Mclairy coming!
You are not wrong there, c
Love the chickens, but especially love the expression on Hairy Mclairy’s face and the hairy eyeball he’s giving you…he knows you’re about to trash-talk him!
Oh no, you think he knew i was calling him a smelly old fart! o-oh, better not turn my back on that ram for a bit!
Daisy and Hairy are just beautiful. You’d think they’d let you eat your meal in peace before going on the rampage.
I believe that daisy stands at the fence most of the day and waits until my bottom is on the sea tand my centre of gravity has dropped before starting to bawl about something! c
I’m laughing so loud you can probably hear me all the way out on the prairie! Poor Daisy…she’s just another hormonal young adult…Nobody understands her… 😉
You can make really good butter from goats milk, you know….
Don’t tell JOHN that! c
Love this, Cecilia. Your farm sounds just wonderful, and the shots of your animals make me smile. It’s our dream to have a farm like yours one day. Just big enough to feed us and the ones we love the most, with simple real food and clean land. Is it as wonderful as it sounds?
Oh it is Miss valentine and your kids would love it,, you would have to give up the M&M’s though! Nah just kidding.. it is fun, active, sometimes a lot of hard work but once you are in there doing it – it is wonderful and the food is the best, i do everything simply..summer is great.. good to hear from you.. c
I don’t think I can give up my M&M’s, Cecilia! That might be a deal breaker, for me (hahaha). I’m subscribing now so I can keep better track of what goes on at your little farm. I’ll be living vicariously through you for a few years, at least 🙂
Live on darling i will be here.. c
I had no idea cows could have such personality!The title of the post cracked me up too – I love it. 🙂
Thank you Kristy.. the cows all have different personalities, varying degrees of bovine-ness!
Awwww I just love hearing about your farm. I wish I could visit. You always have the most amazing photos and stories.. and I love that you enjoy your own organic food. Wonderful. The bugs would kill me though lol
There are no bugs Kay! I have banned bugs! And if there were, not that i am saying there are mind you, I would tell them to stay away when you visited! c