They still love their mother!

https://www.thenoisyplume.com/blog/2020/05/26/15305/

How it looks is how it feels. It feels of the West.

https://www.thenoisyplume.com/blog/2020/05/17/15301/

Babes

All the new babies are growing up quickly, entering into independence while their adult feathers spring up out of their skin. Some of you might recall I had a massacre here last May and I lost 22 laying hens (my entire flock) in one night which was the straw that broke the camel’s back! I told Robbie to bring me a Great Pyrenees puppy when he next came home from McCall and so he did and Ernest came into our lives.

Ernest has been a game changer.

We have not had a single livestock fatality or disappearance since he began patrolling at night at the age of 6 months old. He is now slightly older than a full year and he is the archangel of our farm. In the light of his bold presence on our farm we began to build our flocks again. We started 25 laying hens/roosters/bantams this spring, guinea fowl, meat birds, we have a jenny with a passel of turkleteenies (my favorite), ducks and geese. The geese stole my heart. All our critters are teetering in the awkward zone between teenager and adult but it breaks my heart a bit to see my geese growing up.

Waterfowl has started sleeping on the pond at night but when daybreak comes they are often snuggled up with Ernest on the lawn in front of our big bedroom window.

Nothing on our farm fears Ernest, it’s remarkable to watch.

I have been remiss with farm postings! I shall try to take some photos in the coming weeks — all is very alive and well here on Sundries Farm.

[Fourth generation Idaho rancher!]

I’m finally getting around to sharing some of the branding images I took last spring. It’s always wonderful to be included by my friends and neighbors, to be invited out for these days that are about herd health and wellness as well as human community. Branding takes place over a span of a month in this area as all the ranches in the area come together to gather and brand cows, ranch by ranch, until all the work is done. It’s beautiful to watch the camaraderie between people who are first, second, third, fourth generation Idaho ranchers. It makes me wish I had been born and raised in a singular locale my entire life. These people are connected by proximity, by faith, by work, by the land itself. I think it’s a functional model of humanity that grows more rare as social mobility becomes normal in our society.

Branding days are more than about branding. This is an opportunity for ranchers to give spring calves a wellness check, vaccinations, castrate little bulls, apply other identification in the form of ear tags and notches — remember, cattle rustling is alive and well in the West and while rustlers have figured out how to remove ear tags and change ear marks, they can’t really mess with registered brands. People ask all the time why ranchers don’t tattoo, freeze brand, or use other forms of ID instead of hot branding and I just want to simply say this: all the ranchers I personally know LOVE their livestock. If there was a more efficient and cost effective and LOW STRESS way to apply ID to free ranging cattle, ranchers everywhere would be doing it. The cows in these photos free range on over 50,000 acres of BLM lands. This isn’t a cute, irrigated, 20 acre cow farm in the midwest that can be seen from the kitchen window. These ranchers have to drive out, haul horses, and ride those horses out on to range lands to check their livestock as they are rotated between grazing allotments. Every cow lost or stolen is a few thousand dollars lost or stolen. It’s important to identify these animals and branding is one of the ways that is done.

The last thing I want to tell you is a quiet, organized, calm branding day is a pleasure to behold. It is a craft. Stalwart horses doing their jobs with strength and finesse, the soft zing of ropes and the shush of calf bellies passing through dust and silt, the smoke rising up from fur, gentle conversations passing between people, everyone knowing their job and their duty and working together seamlessly. Cowboys handling their new calves with compassion and tenderness, cowgirls roping and keeping an eye on what their kids are up to, chaps and chinks, gatorade and beer, and a huge lunch spread to keep everyone energized and working hard. It’s a pleasure to be invited out with my camera to catch these families doing what they do.

Please note: I appreciate your good citizenship and your respectful treatment of my friends and neighbors when it comes to how you go about expressing your emotions, thoughts, and opinions on ranching, regenerative ranching, branding, raising meat and eating meat. I will not host bigotry in my space and I will not enter into conversations rooted in bad faith but I do look forward to respectfully responding to comments that come from individuals who express themselves thoughtfully and respectfully. Please bear this in mind if you choose to comment on this post. Thanks for popping by.

https://www.thenoisyplume.com/blog/2020/05/17/15244/

A few weeks ago we popped out for the steelhead closer on the Salmon River. It was my first time steelheading — what fabulous, powerful fish! A very early memory of mine, from my fishing education that began in Manitoba when I was a little girl, was wanting to eat the fish I caught because I wanted their wild and crazy fight to be part of me. I actually remember thinking that to myself when I caught pike and walleye from shore or from a canoe. I wanted to consume that fish energy and have it mingle with my own. I still feel that when I catch fish or watch elk or bear or pronghorn. I should clarify, I don’t want everything to die so I can eat it, but something about seeing game stirs my blood, I want to add that wild energy to my body on a cellular, molecular level. It’s hard to explain this to people who don’t hunt or fish. I feel the same way about my radish patch in the garden, or the raspberries growing like jewels on the cane, or the ears of corn filling out and plumping up. I want that energy and that power to be added to my own, to strengthen my strength, to feed my marrow, to help my hair and fingernails grow, to help my eyes to see.

I’ve stopped thinking about life and death for now it seems there is only life and life, always growing and morphing and changing and falling away to rise back up again.

I caught my first steelhead. We watched the moonrise. We ate leftovers beside a warm fire. We slept well.

https://www.thenoisyplume.com/blog/2020/05/17/15237/