March pretty much came in like a lion and has been for the most part cold, wet and blustery. Compared to what our friends up north are enduring, our weather has been balmy, but to this Texas girl, it has been lacking. Enough of whining, though. We have enjoyed our time here in Volente as well as at the farm. We’ve just been waiting and waiting for spring to come.
We’re almost there, though. Flocks of sandhill cranes flew over earlier in the week, headed north. We have also had north-bound ducks on our tanks as well, but they don't stick around.
The live oaks in Volente began dropping their leaves about a week ago, filling the pool and piling up in drifts on the patio. Next will come their annual blooms…nasty, polleny squiggles that turn everything a sickly shade of mustard. We’ll just have to endure hat part; the rest of the year their shade makes it all worth the March mess.
A few bluebonnets are appearing, as well as Indian paint brushes. But on the 13th, we woke at the farm to a sure sign that spring is just around the corner…the year’s first newborn calf. Red Cow had been teasing us for a couple of weeks with a swelling belly and pendulous udder. She is one of my favorite cows for several reasons. First of all, she is calm and gentle; hardly anything upsets her. She even tolerates the dogs pretty well for a new mother…as long as they don’t come too close to her baby. And she has never threatened to butt John or me, even with a newborn at her side.
On Wednesday morning, I was so proud of Red Cow. She had chosen to have her calf only a couple of hundred yards from the house, not on the back side of the pasture in heavy brush. I like to think she knew that so close to the house she would be safer from the packs of coyotes that serenade us on a regular basis, and which could be deadly for a new calf if mom and its dad and aunties weren’t alert. Even several hours after the birth of her calf, one of Red Cow’s sisters was grazing close by, and didn’t leave until the sun was well up and the coyotes all snug in their dens, or wherever they go during the daylight hours.
Red Cow’s calf wasn’t the only excitement on Wednesday. We had our own version of March Madness later that morning. With help from Rue moving them along, the rest of the cattle were lured into the working pens and received a dose of insecticide to kill flies, lice and worms. Some of them also got ear tags so they are easier to identify at a distance. Except for Red Cow, they are all black and sometimes hard to tell apart.
As the cows were going down the runway and into the squeeze chute, one of them slipped and fell. She couldn’t get up in the tight chute, and we were afraid she would thrash around and hurt herself. John called to my brother, who was helping, to open the side of the chute to allow the cow to get up. I was standing just outside and wasn’t paying proper attention. The side of the chute opened as they say, "smartly," propelled by a 1,000-pound bovine on the other side. God must have been watching out for me; I was wearing a hat, which offered some protection, and only received a glancing blow on my forehead from the side of the chute as it swung open. I do have a souvenir, though, and it will probably be with me for another week or so.
We spent another couple of days at the farm, enjoying a good visit with my brother and his wife and one of my nieces and her family. Rue got to help round up and move the cows, and she and Kota found time for a game of capture the stick.
John and I returned to Volente on Thursday, to be back in town for our 22nd anniversary. We celebrated on Saturday night with good friends Carol and Larry Hardaway. Our anniversary was on March 15, and their 20th anniversary falls on March 17. Our evening at Truluck’s was great fun, even if it didn’t help much with our efforts to trim our waistlines.
