How the Farm Wakes up
These sheep are ready for a morning move
The first sound of the morning is a thump. If I’m sleeping lightly, it might be a rustling, and then a thump. Sometimes I want to ignore it and keep my eyes closed. For a moment, I do. I listen to whether it’s windy outside the window. Are there birds calling yet? (an indication it’s close to go time).
Back to the thump I tried to ignore. In a few seconds it turns into an urgent little “woof.” Not loud. Just very quiet. Right over by where the door to downstairs is.
Back to the thump I tried to ignore. In a few seconds it turns into an urgent little “woof.” Not loud. Just very quiet. Right over by where the door to downstairs is.
Persistent. It’s Tulip (14 pounds of yorkie/long-haired chihuahua).
He says he needs to go out. I check the time to see if it’s a quick bathroom out, or if it’s really time to get up (sometimes he fudges getting up early in the hopes of an early breakfast- which I do not oblige, I’ll take him out to pee and then I return to be for a little longer to wake up a little slower). Usually he’s right on time.
Tulip is ready to get after those farm chores
This time of year it’s dark. I let the dog out (after scanning the yard for skunks- you’ve heard about that story previously- we’re all scarred).
I open Kit’s crate so she can go out (she usually opts to take about two steps outside, and then come back in her crate and wait and go out later). Tulip is quick. He’s got breakfast on his brain, but he wasn’t lying about needing to go, the closest flower bed edge or corner of the house he can get to the leg goes up, and then he’s hurrying back inside.
Feed the dogs. Check the fire, add wood and coax it back to life if it burned too low in the night.
It starts to crackle and woosh gently as the new wood catches. Burning it fully open until it goes good and it’s ready to be shut down a little can take a couple minutes to fifteen minutes depending on how far out it was.
I open Kit’s crate so she can go out (she usually opts to take about two steps outside, and then come back in her crate and wait and go out later). Tulip is quick. He’s got breakfast on his brain, but he wasn’t lying about needing to go, the closest flower bed edge or corner of the house he can get to the leg goes up, and then he’s hurrying back inside.
Feed the dogs. Check the fire, add wood and coax it back to life if it burned too low in the night.
It starts to crackle and woosh gently as the new wood catches. Burning it fully open until it goes good and it’s ready to be shut down a little can take a couple minutes to fifteen minutes depending on how far out it was.
Stopping to greet a sleepy LGD (Livestock Guardian Dog)
Get the coffee water going.
Sky is starting to lighten.
Time to get dressed.
Long underwear are part of the wardrobe this time of year (except those 70+ degree days we had last week- that was very strange). Feeling late as the light comes faster and I know there’s hungry critters that are anticipating my arrival. I can’t hear their impatience and anxiousness like I could Tulip, but I can still feel it.
The sheep are ready for a move as soon as it’s fully light.
The LGD’s are always enthusiastic whether it’s a feeding day or not (they get fed every other day, unless the weather is supposed to be so cold I think they need extra to keep warm- they won’t eat it all, and waste food if fed daily typically, every other day seems to be the best schedule).
The pigs aren’t waiting on me for food, but they’re always pretty excited about a visitor, although if it’s cold and too early, they’re probably all still in a pile in their schooner snoozing and snoring. Yes, pigs snore. And snuffle, and grunt, in their sleep and as they shove around trying to have the most comfortable spot. They do actually sleep in a pile. A big spread out pig pile. If I sneak up close I can watch them. But, someone will notice me and sound the alarm and then it’s everyone scrambling and jumping and squealing as they dash around. They are hilarious!
The cattle are also glad to see me coming. A little bawling if they’re hungry. Otherwise just quietly lining up along the fence, ready to move.
A little example of the morning in the life of a farmer.