The Mind vs. the Tummy

Last year's bad hay crop means adjusting feed for my pregnant ewes.

I've got plenty of first-cutting hay that's just fine for the horses and dry (non-pregnant) ewes. But the pregnant ewes need more calorie-dense food.

In the past, that's been a second-cutting, alfalfa-grass mix. Second-cutting hay was scarce last year, and I only secured about a third of my usual hay supply. Thus, I'm supplementing with corn.

As ruminants, sheep don't do well with sudden changes in feed. So, I'm introducing corn slowly, giving a little more each day so that their guts can adjust over the course of a few weeks.

Their minds didn't take that long.

After the third day, they decided they liked corn and wanted more.

Now, whenever they see me, they baa and baa, demanding more. If I walk into the pasture, they come to me in hopes of getting corn.

"Don't get too used to this," I tell them, eyeing the pastures. When they green up, it'll be bye-bye corn.

Harvest

I fall asleep to the sound of diesel engines.

Combines are gobbling up bushels and bushels of corns and soybeans and transforming the landscape. Night sounds roll across the bare fields.

I awake in the night to coyotes, howling, barking, yipping, responding to each other.

Are they hunting, gobbling up raccoon, rabbits, mice and groundhogs displaced by harvest? Or are they joyful about the wide, open spaces?

My own harvest is going much slower.

In the afternoon sunshine, I pull an ear of popcorn from a stalk, remove the husk and place it in a bag.

Little One, the new barn kitten, helps with harvest.

I measure my progress by ears husked. When finished, I have two grocery bags filled with popcorn. A fine harvest indeed.