The other morning I left the gate open to gather water for Rose (our 3-year-old Jersey cow) from our working spigot (as I do every morning) but on this morning, Ruth (our 3-week-old calf) got curious and followed me out of the gate. If the cows get out of the barnyard, their gate opens up onto another pasture on our property. But after that, the pasture becomes our driveway, then the road and then our neighbor’s yard. Once Ruth was out of the gate, she quickly bucked and kicked her way to the road and Rose began to trail behind her.

This weekend I learned how to give a newborn calf subcutaneous IV fluids. Ruth (this is our calf’s name but you can call her Mountain Goat if you like) was born weak and there are many reasons for that which I might get into later. She did not stand up and she did not start to nurse after she was born which is rare for a newborn calf. When I walked down to the barn and saw Ruth lying on the floor, she looked like a sack of ambiguous parts — an elbow here, two protruding eyes and a neck that seemed to be twisted at a ninety degree angle. I reached down and ran my hands over her body, checking to see if the right parts were present: a spine, a tongue, a belly and hooves. She seemed to be intact but sopping wet. I imagine that I walked down to the barn only moments before she was born. The bag of waters had already broken and she was breathing on her own while her mother (Rose) vigorously licked her, trying to warm her up. Ruth looked like a puppet who had been haplessly dropped on the floor, her strings and levers all tangled up in a pile.

November will forever be known as the month we got our first family cow. “Family cow” has an idyllic ring to it, a little romantic and probably connotes an idealized version of the life of a homesteader. I’m not sure our family cow is idyllic but she IS incredibly stubborn and prefers to eat the most expensive food instead of the bales of alfalfa and hay we got for her.

Our family cow (ROSE) arrived in a horse trailer at 4:30pm on a Monday evening. We are in that time of the year now where the sun goes down around 5pm so we had 30 minutes to milk her for the first time and get her into her stall before the dark settled in around us. Getting Rose into her stall took three of us — one to “lead” her by the halter and two to hold a rope around her back legs and firmly usher her toward her pen. Moving a 1,000 pound animal is not easy but it is really challenging when she does not want to move. Even with three of us working to move her, we came in at 1/3 of her weight. Rose stubbornly tiptoed into her stall after about 45 minutes of us pulling her and encouraging her with loving clucks which did not interest her in the least.

The past weeks seem to have been full of animals here on the farm — animals coming and going, preparing to go. Yes, we will be butchering our pigs this month. Yes, it is sad and YES, we are waaaaaaay too attached to them. Yes, we made the mistake of naming them and petting them and loving them and calling them adorable nicknames. Everyone told us to name them “Bacon” and “Pork Chop” but I cannot. I will get attached to my pigs every time and every time we butcher them, it will be sad to see them go. But also, you will be able to order very delicious bacon from our farm store very soon. It’s getting OFFICIAL around here.

We are nearing the first anniversary of living on this land and homestead. We arrived at Ojo Conejo right before Halloween in 2022, right before winter hit and our property was covered in ice and frozen water for five months. We had no idea what our property even looked like or what the land would show us in the Spring. We arrived when the season of death was close and the ravens were loud. We arrived when the leaves were shivering off the trees and the sun was setting early. It felt like an ominous beginning — our eagerness to plant food in the ground had to wait. We were veiled in winter, the wood stove urging us to sit by her and wait.

Dear Home Depot Man,

When asked what you thought of my use of a ratchet strap, (YouTube a video right now on how to use this handy tool if you have no idea what I mean. You’ll learn a lot and also look really cool the next time you’re around someone who needs to use a ratchet strap and has no idea how to make it work.) you sighed and said, “Hmmmmm” and furrowed your eyebrows. You look like someone who has used a ratchet strap more than I have and so I immediately began to doubt myself. (Welcome to being a WOMAN at Home Depot) I said to you, “Oh, you don’t approve do you?” I challenged you as you sat back and watched me tie down a load of 34 cement boards into the bed of my truck. I used two ratchet straps and did not even get them stuck while I was tightening them. I was VERY proud of myself. But you, Home Depot Man, you did not seem proud of me. You seemed skeptical and judgmental.