Equine Sunshine

Fertilizer Party

Draft horse guys can make a party out of anything, as long as there are a a few four-legged powerhouses involved.  So when John invited a friend to help spread manure, Steve was quick to head our way with his Percherons, Bill and Bob.

Since we only have one manure spreader, the guys took turns.  Audrey was home for the weekend.  She chatted with Steve while John coached Candy and Jess up and down the field.

Then Steve's team stepped up, and Audrey caught her dad up on the news from school.

A manure spreader uses thick iron chains and bars to move the load toward the back of the wagon box.  There the beaters and a metal spiral called "the widespread" spin, flinging clods out into the world, peppering fertilizer out across the field.

Any critter that accidentally wound up in the wagon box would have to thread its way past three sets of metal on the move in order to survive the trip.

The back end of an antique manure
spreader--not family friendly.

So when John saw a garter snake in the manure pile, he tried to nudge it out of harm's way with his boot.  After all, while garter snakes are harmless to humans, they are carnivorous, like all snakes. John would much rather have this one hunting slugs and mice around the farmyard than serving as fertilizer itself.

This snake would apparently rather fight than switch; it flashed its tongue, but didn't flee.

"Let's just move it," Audrey said swooping up the snake with bare hands.

Some things never change.

Audrey 2001

                                                                                                 

Audrey 2011

Thinkin' About It

Shorts and Cowboy Boots?

Merrill has never been one to pay particular attention to convention.

Manure

This is a late-model manure spreader.  As you pull it through the field with your John Deere tractor, beaters fling the clods to the wind, dispersing them to where they will finish their breakdown into nutrients for this summer's crops.

This modern machine is a fast and efficient way to return natural fertilizer to our fields.  It is five times bigger and fifty years newer than our little horse-drawn spreader.  Nonetheless, the new kid sits idle while the old man works.  And I'm not talking about John.

We have a lot of natural fertilizer around here, and it's going to take a lot of work to whittle this pile away and spread the organic material where summer's crops can use it.

Fortunately, my farmer knows how to turn work into play.

Rear View

Sometimes my rear view mirror is a really cool place.

Hannah G.

Cowboys

Good Times

 Same old boots and blue jeans,

 same old husband fencing the same old cows

 

same old cornfield, same old horse. 

Good times  before winter.

Horse Play

"Normally, the sight of a Belgian gathering her hindquarters underneath herself would put the fear in me, but today, as they prepared to launch themselves through those drifts, it was just fun!"
                                                                                        ---John

The girls thought it was fun, too.  You can't tell in this photo, but they are laughing hard and hanging on tight.

The laughing stopped, temporarily, when the farm fuel tank...er....bench seat on the sled...tumbled itself and its passenger into the snow while cornering.

John's next comment:  "It's great to have a couple of farm girls on board, ones who will just wrestle the ol' fuel tank back onto the sled."

Old Time Farming

What else would we do when we're snowed in and it's 10 degrees out, but go for a little horsey ride?  After all, the cows needed hay.  John could have used a tractor to deliver it, but this was more fun.

The cows were hungry. 

Cows and calves are thrifty.  They wander through our cornfields all winter after we have removed the grain.  They forage, thriving on spilled corn and ears that the combine missed, along with the husks and leaves that we leave in the field.

But when everything's covered with snow, they appreciate a little supplemental feed.  So we haul hay.

Kandy, on John's right, is starting to tire of posing for the photographer.   She starts doing a little chicken dance to say it's time to go home.  Jess is telling her to just settle down.

Eskimo Joe might be ready to go home, too.

We decided to pull into the shed for unharnessing.  Outside, you could hardly see for the blowing snow.

Inside, you could hardly see for the rising steam.

Kind of puts the romance back into old time farming, wouldn't you say?

Happy 50th

No, these Belgians haven't turned 50, although I learned yesterday that the longest-lived Belgian horse on record made it to fifty-two. This pair is just six years old.

With a nod to the current green trend, we are recycling a mylar balloon left from someone's birthday. (If you're wondering who the someone is, it's not one of the household females. You'll have to figure it out from there.)

Horses are spooky. When confronted with anything new or suprising, their natural instinct is to take off at breakneck speed in any direction away from the threat. If you want to take draft horses to a parade, where they might just encounter a stray mylar balloon, you need to help them overcome this tendency. That's why I tied the balloon to their fence, right above the feed trough, where there's no avoiding it.

After a bit of initial skepticism, Kandy and Jess decided to risk the mylar for another bite of hay. Pretty soon, when the balloon didn't bite them, things were back to status quo.

John once told me he works draft horses for relaxation. But I work them for adrenaline, theirs or mine, I don't care. I get bored with same-old-same-old, so the next time I passed the horse pen, I grabbed the balloon and wadded it a few times. Y'know, a kid at a parade might rattle his balloon, and we can't have horses spooking. Tweaking the balloon for Kandy and Jess produced the expected result--two tons of horseflesh thundering across the pen.

They'll thank me in the long run. And if they don't, the kids at the parade certainly will.

In Search of Spring

Four Up

This man, Mike,

hired this man, Dennis,

to teach him how to drive four horses at a time.

This man

was asked to help with the horses. He is happy.

Driving four horses is not as easy as it looks. First of all, you have to individually move four lines, held in your only two hands.

Think about it. Your hands are connected to eight places on four horses. Each line splits and goes to the left side, or the right, of bits in two horses' mouths. If you want to make a smooth turn, you'll want your wheel team to follow right in the path of your lead team. That means you have to turn the lead horses first, then let the wheelers take a few more steps, and then turn them just the same amount. And you only have two hands.

Horses are like people, in that some would rather dive in and get the work done, while some are happy to let another pull the load. Look at the body language of Faith and Emmylou, the lead team. Faith is leaning into her collar, and Emmylou's shoulder muscles are obviously working. Bess, in the back, looks like she might be working her collar, too, but she's not. She's just testing to see if she can reach the grass. She and Homer have found a comfortable pocket between the wagon and the lead team, walking just fast enough to keep up but not pulling any weight. John's job is to tap Homer on the behind from time to time, to remind him that he needs to apply himself. Mike's job is to use his voice and his only two hands to hold back the leaders - just an inch, or they will stop completely - and encourage the wheelers to step up.

My job is to take pictures and enjoy.

Finished Product Up Close

Someone requested a photo of how the mane braiding turned out.

"Are you lookin' at ME?"

Winter Joy

First, for our little town's winter parade, we dressed up the horses.


We sewed long, satiny mane rolls, fabric ribbons to braid in the horses' manes. We fashioned bright flowers from silk carnations, pipe cleaners and grosgrain ribbon. (Where is our florist friend Rebecca when you need her!??)

We spent the rest of the morning braiding and unbraiding, until we got it right.

Then we dressed ourselves in lots and lots of layers. Insulated coveralls may not look very celebratory, but we went for function over fashion.

That's Erica in the back. She and Merrill were supposed to be tossing chocolates to kids lining the streets. However, most of the kids lining the streets were sitting in parked cars with the heaters running, sheltered against 15 degree snow and wind.

Somehow, at the end of the parade, the candy supply was low and spirits were high.