Sporting Clays, Bluegrass & Foster Kids

Karen & I are happy to sponsor "Gone South" bluegrass musicians to play at this April's Skeet / Sporting Clays event.  The nice ring of the wood, strings and harmonies work well in the tree lined gathering area of "The Willows - Sporting Clays" club near Harrah's Tunica.  It is our first year doing this and we hope to see many friends, old and new.

The main gathering area offers food and fellowship for the competitors finishing the morning round and those teams preparing for the afternoon shoot.

Sunshine, rain and rainbows, or Mississippi overcast, Springtime is a great way to see the winding woods and clearings that actually cross into Arkansas for a moment. The course tricks, challenges and stories will be new for that day.  Neighbor, friend, parent & child are welcome. The day raises some needed funds for foster care.

All expenses included, registration is online at https://www.eventbrite.com/e/pull-for-children-sporting-clays-skeet-registration-346064087

Go, Daddy, Go

This was one of the days we at Weesner Meadow dread the most.  The banishing of the boar.  Henry, our daddy extrodinaire, has outlived his usefulness in his sows' pasture and needs to be moved to other environs.  The girls are due this week (Saturday, if we can count) and Henry has been forced to sleeping outside the hut.  It sounds like a hoggy erotic novel but Henry did indeed cohabitate with Bertha and Bella.  They were happy together in their PortaHut dwelling.  But once we get a little too close to the due date, Henry is sleeping outside.  He becomes mopey, needy even but the girls are firm.  That's the sign that we are getting close. 

The problem in seperating the love trio is that Henry will not leave their side.  I know they are eating less.  Not a lot of room, you know.  So he only traverses the pasture to nibble on the grass and partake of the feed we have for the girls when they come off the hill.  I have watched for days now and he practically has a snout attached to them at all times, even if it is through the hut.  But today, I see a change.  The girls at first were laying in their fine, fine dirt.  Happy to be in a cool place just breathing.  I walked into the hut to pet both my girls and give them my sympathy.  Two litters in a year will tire anyone out.  Then as I leave they decide to descend the hill and lie in the cool dirt.

I see a chance.  Henry nibbles on the grass a little longer than they do and they rebuff him as he attempts to lay next to them.  Aha!!  As he pouts and lays down across from them, I see my chance.  I grab my bag of corn and rush to the pasture.  He isn't going to come willingly you know.  He is expecting two litters in a matter of days.  But with a little feed encouragement he follows me.  Slowly I get him through the gate and pour out a little of the corn.  Just as a reward you know.  You never tease the 600 pound boar with food and don't follow through.  You just don't. 

I close the gate and reinforce with another chain to keep Henry from his girls while he is focused elsewhere.  Before he knows it I have locked him in with the cows.  The steers.  I know he feels insulted.  I pet him and tell him how good he is.  He falls down so I can pet his belly and I do.  He is after all really good at his job.  Really good and really committed.  The girls weren't back with him 6 days last time before he had them impregnated again.  That's extreme motivation for a job well done.  And now he is locked in with the steers.  We will have to apologize for this every day for the next 8 or more weeks.  But he will forgive it all when he gets a chance to return to his girls.  God love him.   

Slurpee cup and good aim

Well first to follow up on yesterday's segment, my new sheep strategy was brilliant.  Stay on the other side of the fence and let Farmer Jeff handle it.  Worked like a charm for me and him too.  The sheep gave him only a fraction of the trouble they gave me.  But what did I do while he was sheeping?  Now thats a good blog post. 

The two steers we have are new to our farm.  We got them from our neighbors, the good farmers Ronnie and Harriett.  They are teenage cows and although they are terribly inquisitive are horribly shy and suspicious.  Like I said, teenagers.  Anyhow, they are plaqued by flies now.  Its awful, and they are developing horrible tics to help keep them moving.  So, its time to put some of that permethrin stuff on them to try to help. 

Unfortunately, I have a large container of insect repellenty stuff, no applicator, and two steers that don't want me to look straight at them or get within 4 feet of them.  But I am a newly made farmer.  Undaunted.  Ok I was daunted by the sheep yesterday, but these are cows.  I can handle them.  I did have the insecty stuff.  One up for me.  Directions just say to pour it down the back of the steer.  Hmmm.  Needing a pouring device, I return to the Honda Pilot and search for a suitable device.  Yep, the slurpee cup won.  I was mostly finished anyway.  

I use the nightly feeding as a suitable sneak time to get the repellent onto the cows. While they are eating the first few bites I empty the remains of the slurpee and pour in an appropriate amount of repellent and get into position.  I strategize whether over hand or under hand would be the best way to fling and decide over hand will get me more distance when they start running.  I slide into position, aim for the black steer first as he has more flies, do a couple fake swats so they become desensitized to my flinging movements, and then fling away.   

Yep, a miss.  But a good learning experience.  I get more repellent in the Slurpee cup and slide into position again but realign based on the cows fleeing pattern.  I keep my face tilted as though I am looking somewhere else and try to get closer to them.  No such luck as they immediately back away.  I try coming at them from the rear flank.  Nope.  The side.  Nope.  Hmmm.  Back to my original positioning at their heads.  They look at me with suspicious eyes and then I just fling away.  Missed the black steer but hit dead on with the white one.  Aha.  A strategy appears.  Aim for one cow and hit the other.  I never said good aim meant you hit what you were aiming for.