New Rule

We are in the thick of the grazing season now. There are 52 pastures, sized to feed the cows for 12 hours. We go get the cows before chores, pushing them out of the pasture and toward the barn, moving the water tub and setting up the electric fence gates so they'll have a fresh paddock when they come back from the barn.

This year we started the rotation in Field 16, way behind the barn and up on the hill. Then they went down by Berry's house on the hill, then across the road to the flats, then worked their way up Field 20 to the Old Sugarhouse Field and then to Field 8. Earl put numbers on the gate handles this year (using old cow ear tags) so he, Pam, Erik and I can all be sure we're talking about the same thing. So far it's working slick.

Yesterday the cows were in Pasture #48, but I'm pretty sure if I call it the Stupid Fucking Pain-in-the-Ass Driveway Pasture, everyone around here, including the UPS driver, will know just what I'm talking about. The pasture (using the term loosely) encompasses the grasses, plants and weeds that grow along the driveway for about 1/4 mile, starting just below the house. From a nutritional and resource-management perspective, it's actually a rather smart pasture; there is quite a bit of healthy feed growing on the shoulders and it's unharvestable by machine and it would take hours of misery to mow it by hand. From a vehicular-access perspective, however, it sucks.

Larry, our delivery driver, was the first one to drive through the fence on his way in at five in the morning. Earl hadn't been able to find much in the way to flag the wire, so he put a bright red funnel-thing in the road. Larry did wonder what the red thing was in the road, but he'd already driven through it. He saw the second gate, and opened it, drove through, and closed it again behind him and went to find Earl in the barn to tell him the fence was down. Earl finished the cows he had in the parlor, hung up the units, and went to fix the fence.

Earl was late coming back from the barn, but we were on track to get the boys to school on time when Nancy called from her cell phone, saying something garbly about cows being out. We were, and still are, mystified on how she could get cell reception, but when we looked out the window, sure enough, there were cows all over the place. The heifers must have been running when they came down the hill, because they ran straight through the fence into the alfalfa field. The fence was broken and down and there was a line of employee cars stopped in the road, no doubt thinking that they wouldn't have to deal with this kind of thing if they sold insurance. We still could have made it to school before the first bell except that Cinder was in the road, walking slowly, looking around, and not really inclined to let us pass her. There's not really anything to do but wait in that situation, lest I spook her and get her running where she could hurt herself or crash through the fence. So we waited and Cliffy missed his show-and-tell spot for the second week in a row.

Pam almost drove through the top gate on her way back from school, but she didn't, slamming on the brakes with the wire stretched tight across the hood. She backed up and the fence was fine, but Earl and Erik had seen the whole thing and laughed heartily.

Oliver had a doctor's appointment and then the kids needed to get picked up and, although I know I'm a little prone to dramatics, it really did seem like I spent the better part of the day climbing in and out of the car, hooking and unhooking fences. We were doing okay, though, until the UPS driver came up the driveway.

I saw the UPS truck going slowly and sent Cliffy to open the gate and I went out to get the package. But before Cliffy could get out the door, the truck sped up and went up the hill. Cliffy went over to the gate and the next thing I knew he was sitting in the road screaming about being zapped. The UPS guy stopped, got out of the truck and said, "Sorry, I tried to go through it slow. I hit the other one, too." And he handed me the package of watch batteries, which would have fit in the mailbox, and drove away. Now first off, this is the same driver who left packages in the middle of the road all winter because he was afraid he wouldn't make it up the perfectly plowed and sanded driveway. Secondly, he tried to go slow?! Apparently in UPS Driver World a large brown vehicle can pass through a wire fence, provided the vehicle is moving slowly enough for its large brown molecules to move out of the way to allow the polywire to pass through intact. In Farm World, however, the fucking fence breaks into two pieces and Cliffy can't figure out what to do with it and zaps himself. Fortunately, Cliffy wasn't hurt and the cows were as unimpressed by the exchange as I was and just lay there, chewing their cud, not escaping.

I loaded up the boys and went to the barn to unplug the fence, showing Cliffy how to do it for next time. Then we drove down the road and I tied the first fence together, and then the second, flagging them with a great many streamers of leftover-green-up-bag plastic. I stood back and evaluated my efforts, thinking that anyone, except maybe UPS Idiot, could fail to see and open the gates. Thirty minutes later it was time for chores and not even one vehicle had come up or down the road to test my work. Pam came to push the cows to the barn and set up pasture #47 and we don't have to think about it for 26 days.

Twenty six days from yesterday is a Wednesday, though, and we're thinking that maybe numerical order isn't the way to go when it comes to the Stupid Fucking Pain-in-the-Ass Driveway Pasture. We have a new rule--Pasture #48 gets grazed on Sunday afternoon.