Ox and Ass before Him fall

It was the day before Christmas and I had been working most of it putting a post and overhead wire between my two sheep barns.   These barns are on the one side of a driveway which separates the sheep side from the  barn and yard I use for the oxen on the opposite side. The ox barn yard is connected to a couple of fields a good distance  uphill to the south which function as hay and pasture sources during the summer. This year we are still waiting for snow so the grazing has been good up there with a heavy growth of  aftermath  left from the summer’s hay crop. The oxen have been staying in these fields, eating the sweet grass and sleeping on the pine needles in the adjacent woods.  On most mornings I lure them down to the barn with  treats and by calling with my “come boss“  call. Usually I have to walk part way up the hill to get them started down. When they come down to the stall, they get a scoop of sweet feed after which, if I don’t have any work for them, they wander back up to the pastures and woods for the rest of the day and night.

It had been a sunny but cold and breezy day and as I worked I had to occasionally pocket my hands to warm them up.  It was late and I was trying to complete the job before I went up to the house for the evening. I knew Grandmolly had a nice roast in the oven and was looking forward to our Christmas evening together. The wood stove would be going and the heat would quickly warm me up as we shared dinner and our gifts.  So when I finished, I hurried to pick up my tools and ladder.  The twilight was quickly settling in the valley and the brighter of the evening stars were beginning to accumulate in the sky off to the east. It was going to be a clear and cold night.

Walking to my truck in the driveway, I was surprised to see Thunder and Lightning, my faithful oxen, standing in the open  barn in front of the manger with that longing look they usually have. A look that I have grown used to, as they patiently wait for whatever is next.  Tears of moisture formed in my eyes and a flood of emotion in my heart as I saw them and the scene which unfolded  in my mind.  Why did they come down on their own, to the manger, on this special evening?  An ancient instinctive call  perhaps, that  drew them from the habit of their normal routine and bid them here this night? An old Christmas hymn flashed through my mind “ox and ass before Him fall for He is in the manger now…” . They stayed all night and were waiting still,  in the morning, when I went down for morning chores.

The wonders of Christmas, may they be yours this season as well. Merry Christmas.

Ox Team

I had an ox, his name was Rock
His partner’s name was Roll
Mostly together
Like one soul
Rock was nigh
And Roll was not
Rock and I were friends
And Roll alone a lot
The day arrived, sorry to say
That Rock and Roll were turned away
Sad as it seemed to me
Made me wonder if it needed be
But I had little time except to dream
About this potent working team
And thus they lolled the days away
And me? I provided the hay
But my days were not without other demands
And I was busy as I worked on the land
With a farm to care for and do it right
Within the limit of physical might
So for their sake
As much as mine
A home was found
That worked out fine
My pattern was to turn them out
At night each day the same old route
And for the grass they both would run
In search of food and always fun
Well on the day before the last
I did the same as in the past
But Rock stayed back
For spots to scratch, there was no lack
And say a word about goodbye
I did the same and turned with a sigh
He followed me up to the gate
That’s when I turned and I saw his eye
Sad and hurt it said to me
A friend so close as he can be
Faithful and true as a beast was he
I felt a hole in my heart and me.
Oh life that twists and turns so
What seems so good sometimes must go
And leave one with a saddened heart
And memories to fill the void, in part
Rod Hewitt

Hurts

Dusty is a very smart and very sensitive dog. We have had the pleasure of living with Dusty for 4 of his 5 years. A family gave him to us when he was a year old, as they had too many dogs. Dusty had never been in a house, lived in a barn with 6 other dogs and was very undisciplined. It took us a half hour to catch him to bring him home. We initially intended to keep him as an outside dog since that was what he knew but, over time, that changed to a kitchen only, then downstairs only, then the whole house only. We do not let him get on the furniture (yet). Anyway the first few nights when he was tied to a tree in our yard were spent mournfully howling in loneliness for his lost companions. All that is past now and Dusty is well trained, and a constant companion to us. He rides everywhere with me as I go about my business in my truck where he always rides in the jump seat and sleeps contentedly there when I leave on my business. Occasionally I leave him in the house when I go somewhere and understand he goes from door to door looking out expectantly for my return. You would think he would gladly greet me after one of those times with a vigorous wag of his stump and other affectionate responses( Dusty is an Australian Shepard and has no tail) but not so: he is hurt and shows it. He turns his head away when I approach or speak to him and in various other ways lets me know that he is offended.

The other day I was sorting out cows and steers and my two bulls who had somehow opened a gate and were happily commingled together. Problem was that I had open heifers in that pen and I didn’t want any breeding to be taking place this time of year. It was important to get them back in their places before things got out of hand. I have a yard whip that I use to guide and encourage the cows to move where I want them to go. It’s designed with a short loose end that can act as a light whip. I don’t use it that way but it is effective if I just jiggle it or use it to make sounds that will cause the cows to shy away. At one point a fat little Lowline steer was trying to run by me with the cows, something I didn’t want to happen so I took my wand and tried to snap it in front of this determined little steer and accidentally snapped it in his eye. I saw him wince and shy back with his head down. I can still see him now as he pulled back. His hurt and my hurt were different but the same. I can still feel the hurt as I did then because I love my cows and do not want them to experience harm. His hurt is now healed I am sure but mine lingers.

A few years back I had to put away an old faithful cow. It was late fall and she went down as her back arthritic legs just gave out. She was in pain and was suffering and couldn’t get up. She had a little bull calf who was old enough to be independent and could make it on his own but nevertheless stayed near his Mom as she was lying there hurting. I got my rifle and 3 bullets and went down to the corner of the pasture where she was lying. I had never done this before and the first bullet didn’t kill her. The pain and look on her face as she looked at me after the wound are as vivid this day as when it happened . It took two more shot before she was dead and each one was a trial and was accompanied by looks that I will never forget. Her calf hung around and mourned his Mom for a while. Her pain is over, mine lingers in my memory.

We had a family of cows here for a while which included a mother cow Angel and her grown six year old daughter Annabel. Both had raised a number of offspring and were part of a larger herd of cows which commingled together in the pasture and barn yard. But these two were special friends and usually were found near each other grazing or sleeping or doing the other things that cows do. Eventually a management decision on the farm caused me to put Annabel up for sale. The day arrived when a buyer pulled her trailer up to the barn and we loaded Annabel in for a trip to her new home in New York. Angel watched the procedure from a nearby pasture and became very agitated at the event. She ran back and forth along the fence and bellowed and carried on in a manner that would break your heart and did in a way. I still remember.

Eventually Angel was sold also and went to a new home. I recently was reviewing some animals’ registrations on line and happened across Angel’s record. Deceased was the caption which stopped me. Broken heart? Who knows but as time goes by I know I find it much harder to sell cows.

Expectations

Another unfulfilled expectation: today, March 6th, dawned bright and sunny, and I arose expecting a spring day. Much to my disappointment the back porch thermometer said -19 f at 7:30 am. Well, I am one that believes spring starts the first of March and expect each March day to verify my belief. After all it’s sugar time and calving season, and the sun is higher in the sky and the birds are coming back. But 19 below with a hard west wind is not spring weather.

All this got me to thinking about expectations and disappointments. We humans have this capacity to think ahead expectantly and because of this ability often create mental scenarios that fit our expectations. Contrarily, for the most part, animals don’t seem to have the same abilities. We have a cow ready to calf in the barn. I fully expected it to happen last night but, this time, was not disappointed that it didn’t, because it is just too cold for a new wet and shaky calf to have a decent chance on life. Momma cow seems indifferent to the possibility and apparently takes things as they come. Anyway, expectations can be a problem especially when they dont’ happen just right. We expect family gatherings to be times of social bliss and are often disappointed when a disagreement over whatever, and there are lots of possible whatevers, spoils our expectations. Or how about the person that said they would call us, then neglected to do so, or the job which you expected to complete today was interrupted by some other need for your time and you were disappointed. The list is endless and failure to meet our expectations is sometimes a daily occurrence.

I expected my wood pile to last the winter but it hasn’t, expected my dog to dwell in peace with our cat but he doesn’t, expected, expected, expected. Even the TV is constantly telling us we deserve it. Another expectation and set-up for a letdown. Did you ever yearn for release from expectations? I have and lately have been cultivating the habit of lowering my expectations so that I am not disappointed or even surprised by a better result than I had prepared myself to experience.

What does’ the Bible have to say about that? Some pertinent verses I have already put in other blogs but how about this one: ” rejoice always, pray without ceasing: in everything give thanks for this is the will of God”. I guess that’s about attitude. Could it be that a grateful and right attitude is more in keeping with how we are to live than with expectations? Could it be cows know things about right living that we humans have to learn the hard way? Think about it.

What is a Farm?

What is a Farm anyway? I am sure that question brings lots of different thoughts to different folks. To some its a romantic notion, or a vision of a bygone era. To others it’s a production unit or a place of drudgery and hard work. Some I am sure see a farm as a weight around their neck like Thoreau wrote in Walden Pond when he posed the question of “why would any man want to tie a farm around his neck”, (rough paraphrase).

One of my favorite books by Wendell Berry is titled “The Gift of Good Land”. That’s a title I personally like as it reflects my view of a farm as a truly special gift. The more you farm the more you become aware of the farm as a dynamic place teeming with life in a constant state of change and growth. Weather , soils, water, plants, living animals and humans all make it so.

Take the weather, it’s never the same from day to day or season to season. It brings our four seasons, sometimes thought of as cold, wet, lush and dry complete with sub-periods of mini droughts, heat waves, wet periods. The farm vegetation adjusts to these and other variables and continues to reproduce as do the forests, growing in cycles of youthful exuberance and death and decay. A giant machine uniquely designed to capture solar energy and convert it to useful life-sustaining products is what one sage called it. The weather assists this process.

Years ago when we were looking to buy a farm a wise real estate agent who was a retired farmer told me when you buy a farm you should look at the soils first. Good soils will pay for barns and other necessary amenities needed for an efficient and profitable farm enterprise. Our farm is what is sometimes commonly referred to in these parts as a small hill farm, one, which in a previous era was very common in New England. A few milk cows, and a horse or two, lots of manual labor and you could make a living on such a place. It has pretty good soils by Vermont standards, some are classified as prime agricultural soils and others carry a lesser inspiring nomenclature.

But soils and soil life are critical to a natural farm and somewhat less so to a conventional farm because there chemicals can prop up a farm for a long time, albeit at a high cost in both operational capital and in the long term loss of valuable soil properties. Soils are a world in themselves and a complex interrelated system of chemistry and biology that act together to help feed the plant and eventually the other life forms that depend on it for substance. Millions or billions of bacteria, fungi, microhezia, and other soil life work endlessly to keep the soil alive and provide food for the plant community which depends on the soil for it’s life and health.

And think about water. Farms need lots of water and the better the quality, the higher the value. Rain is the principal water source and it’s in a continuous cycle of evaporation, condensation into rainfall, runoff in brooks and streams and storage in underground cisterns and above ground containments. Water that is filtered through the earth dissolves minerals which become available to plants and animals when the water is taken up through the plant roots or seeps out of the earth into brooks and streams. Good tasting non polluted water is a constant blessing. We have a good clean spring which we use to water the cattle during the summer months. This spring runs at 2 gallons per minute all year round. Also, we have a deep drilled well for the house water supply which will produce 10 gallons per minute of the best tasting water you ever had. A year round brook runs through the center of the farm. This brook, which has no name, originates across the street in some springs. It crosses the road and wanders down the property line between the neighboring farm and ours. Part way through the farm it gets detained for a while in a pond which is home to fish, frogs, salamanders, wetland plants, insects, snails and is a great attraction for blue herons, ducks , otters, a beaver and a drinking spot for white tail deer and other woodland critters. We enjoy it in the summer for a quick dip after a hot work day or to laze away a Sunday afternoon floating in tire tubes on its cool surface.

The brook leaves the pond and runs through the woods on its never ending way as it passes though the farm on its endless journey to the Connecticut River. This section of brook is enchanting with water falls and twisted babbling paths through the cool woods as the water fights its way down slope to its destination. This part is a favorite walk for visitors who have been known to become so taken by its’ charm that adults will succumb to the temptation to walk in the water with shoes on just to feel the cool and crystal clean water flowing around their feet.
The faithful sun falls on the land in various intensities depending on the season, aspect or lay of the land and the cloud cover. Some fields tilt south and are the first to green up in the spring, grow the best grass and stay green the longest in the fall. Some areas receive little sun because they face north and are also tilted that way. The vegetation here is different with moss and evergreen trees in abundance. I wonder if the earth’s designer made evergreen trees for spots like this so they would have all year to glean the light they would need to thrive. Favorite spots in the summer to sit and think, or for the cows to lay and chew cud are these North slopes at the wood edge. Maybe a second reason is that some of the best views are from these areas, views that encompass our little valley with its five homes all in view. Often from this high vista one can see Grandmolly working in the vegetable garden or my neighbor Scott pruning his antique apple trees or Larry working his flower beds.

Our vegetable garden is in an area with naturally good soils and almost in a micro-climate facing southwest and sheltered from the westerly wind by a hedge row of trees. This little spot produces a bounty of organic vegetables in our short summer season and has never seen a drop of chemical spray or fertilizer. Composted cow manure does wonders for plant health and growth and we use a little on the garden and a lot on our fields. Our short growing season is offset by long daylight days in the summer which the growing plants thrive on.

And then the forest which frames the farm, our source of firewood for winter heat, a saw log for boards and beams for building projects and a shelter and haven for wildlife which includes deer, fox, turkeys, porcupine, coons, coyotes, mice, and chipmunks, grouse, woodcock, bears and many others all of which are only seen on occasion but live in and on this part of the farm.

The fields’ plant communities are important and diverse. Various grasses, cool and warm season types, provide a variety of energy, vitamins and minerals to our grazing livestock. Legumes such as red and white clover are interspersed among the grasses in the fields and are valuable sources of protein for the cows and nectar for the honey bees as are the wildflowers which grace the land and roadsides and add some beauty and diversity as well as an attraction for the ever vigilant bee colonies. Legumes have the special ability to take nitrogen from the air and make it available to the grasses for growth. Lightning and rain also are important sources of this essential chemical for plant growth and health. Earth worms provide tunnels in the soil that allow rain to get below into the soil and in the process the earthworms eat the cow dung which they also break down into valuable plant food. Birds thrive on the fly larva which incubate in the cow patties and add their song in the morning to awaken the day. I have even read that the birds’ morning songs stimulate the grasses to begin the days’ growth.

The list of interactions is endless and the dynamics of a living farm are vast and, most, likely still remain to be discovered. So what is a farm anyway? You rarely, if ever, hear that question, possibly because there is no succinct answer to it. Thankfully, what a farm is, is so complex and diverse that it cannot be reduced to a simplistic word or paragraph definition as is so common today in our technological and scientific culture and, personally, I like it that way.

Farm Names

Farm names are fascinating to me and I often appreciate the names folks choose for their farms many of which have hidden or not so hidden meanings. The Bible says “a good name is better than fine gold”. This I’m sure is not referring to clever names or names that convey an image or send a message of some type but rather the long and constant work required to have a personal name that is honored among our fellow human beings.

We had a farm near by named Aching Acres, kind of the opposite of the often seen romantic names of farms and farmsteads. I like the name of a local farm that I know of which is Far Wind farm. Conjures up images of a wind from far away places which finds its way to that particular spot on the planet and who knows what the wind brings in the way of blessing or problems. Maybe a needed rain cloud or a warm breeze or a cool one depending on the need of the moment. Storms and pollen and bugs and migrating birds and odors and all sorts of things travel by winds from afar don’t they?

Another nearby farm owned by a friend is called Valley View farm and the reason for the name is obvious when you stand at his barn and look east. The valley and far away mountains stand out as a picture of neat rolling fields, wood groves and edges, the smoke from distant chimneys and the commerce of humanity proceeding on the state road far below.

My neighbors farm is called “Morning Star Perennials” which we had named Morning Star Farm before we sold it to them and built our present place to the rear in one of our fields. Morning Star is a Biblical name among many for Jesus and that’s why we named it as we did. After all the good book says that “HE owns the cattle on a thousand hills” and by inference owns the hills also.

So when we moved to our new farm 20 years back we lost the Morning Star name so picked another one of the same type and chose Dayspring Farm also a Biblical name for Jesus. Now our valley has two names which carry the same intended meaning. Other thoughts I am sure occur when our farm name is considered. Thoughts such as a spring of water running daily or the springing forth of a new day come to mind although not to me because I already have a fixed reference in my mind for that name.

The value of a good name brings with it a host of responsibilities and opportunities. The name is a starting point and what is made of it is the challenge. What the name comes to represent is dependent on the background work invested in its’ nature. For instance the name Tidy Gardens Farm (if such a name exists in reality) would not mean much if the farm was planted with overgrown weeds , rusting machinery and abandoned cars.

The name of our farm is fairly well known in our local area because we sold Christmas trees from the farm for 15 years and many folks still think of us as the Christmas tree farm on Darby Hill. Others still refer to the farm as the old Trotter farm which was the name of the previous dairy farmer, Johnny Trotter, who worked the land for his 13 milk cows. Interesting enough, between his ownership and ours the farm was owned my a speculator who did not work or live on the farm and let it go in a sense. His name is long forgotten. Perhaps when we are gone the farm will be known as the Hewitt farm which happens to a lot of farm names here in New England as the human name working the land supersedes the chosen name after the farmer is gone. I think I would like that some day the farm might be remembered as the Hewitt farm. We have a pond that didn’t exist before we built it and we have named it Hewitt Pond a name likely unknown to any geographers or local folks.

Driving out the driveway this morning I noticed the neighbor across the road changed the name of his little homestead from “Easy Street” to “For Sale”. Not a real common name in the Town we live in but a popular one in some areas of New England. Names change and people move about. When we lived in the City, homes had only numbers but farms are different and the longer you live and work a farm the more entrenched and associated it becomes with you and your name. All the more reason to work to make that name ” a good name worth more than fine gold”.

More cow tails

Really, we just bought a herd of Dexter cows to add to our herd numbers and if you count them all, each one has one tail, you get a grand total of 55 tails out there. Of course some are steers and some are going to be sold as we also have a raft of calves on the way starting next month. But we have one special cow whom we hope to be able to keep until old age.

This little story is really not about cow tails but about a true cow tale involving one of our special cows. That cow is named Melanie and she is one of our two favorite Dexter cows. The other is Maddy and they are both very much alike in appearance although Maddy is a little less aggressive than Melanie. Both are jet black, short leg cows and both are quite friendly, like to eat and are always the first one to cross the gate to new pasture or get to the feeder when fresh chow is put in. These two cows are the same age and grew up together and are still best friends 5 years later.

Anyway Melanie I call the ultimate mother cow. You see Melanie is very much interested in and caring of not only her own calf but everyone else’s calves as well. For instance in the spring I generally pasture my cows near the barn and every so often they come into the barn to get a drink of water leaving their calves in the pasture. Calves spend a lot of time sleeping and as they get a little older will often wander away from their mother to do some relaxing in the sun, romping and playing with each other or as I said taking a nap. Of course if the separation is too long momma fills up with milk and wants relief and then she get real serious about finding her calf to do the job. When the cows leave the pasture to go to the barn the calves are left behind and Melanie ever watchful and responsible will stay with them in the pasture and watch the nursery until the mother cows return.

On occasion a late calving cow will drop her calf in the pasture and I will go out, put it in a sled and slowly drag it back to the barn with the mother cow following us in or should I say following the sled. Cows bond to their calves by smell and the cow follows the smell of her new born as I drag it back to the barn. Melanie however gets real upset at this event and will come a running from where ever she is in the pasture to see what is going on. Her ears will be up on full alert as she gallops over to get in the act of shepherding the sled to the barn, Sometimes a little too close and often is as much or more interested in the new calf as the birth mother.

As the calves grow they like to drink mamma’s milk and when she runs out will often look for more from other cows in the herd. But the cows know which calf is their’s and push the others away saving their milk for their own. Not so with Momma Melanie. She is the community milk man and does not discriminate between her own calf and her little group of friends and charges. It’s not unusual to see two calves drinking from her at the same time.

When we got Malanie as a young heifer she, unbeknown to us had been bred and subsequently dropped her calf in the corner of one of our field. We found her black heifer calf dead the next morning with Malanie grazing nearby.

Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Is she trying to make up for the disappointment and failure she had as a young cow in not properly caring for her first calf? What ever the reason her love of the little ones engenders a warm love in my heart for Malanie and she is a great cow to have in our herd, a built in baby sitter and more. She is our special cow.

Cow Family

My first herd of Dexter cows came from a farm in New York. It included 9 cows and a young bull calf which we nicknamed Billy. Some of these cows were related and we had among the nine a grandmother ( Thelma) , her daughter Angel, Angel’s daughter Annabel and Annabel’s son Billy, which was Thelma’s great grandson. Now Thelma was pretty old and tough. She was a small dun colored cow with horns and definitely the boss of the herd, even though most of the others were larger and more fit than she was. Thelma was a little arthritic and slow moving but when she got there, the others made way for her as she swaggered into the group.

Dexters love to run and are pretty smart and emotional. When they change pastures and do something new, it is not unusual to see them do it on a run, and when they run they often jump and kick the air in delight. Have you ever witnessed a child running while watching his feet fly through the air? Well, Dexters do the same thing, as they like to watch their back feet as they perform their antics while running. It’s really comical and fun to watch.

Anyway, one day after the Dexters arrived I had occasion to move them from one of my fields to the barn yard. The route to do this was about 500′ long and led through a small fence-enclosed area where I store some equipment, then a left turn onto a short section of driveway, then a right turn through an opened fence section past our pond, the barn area. This spot alternates between being a very small pasture and part of the barn area lawn.

As usual, the Dexters thought it was great fun to go to a new spot and ran the course with vigor and full antics’ display with lots of classic kick jumps and twists as they navigated the course to the barn. The only problem was that Annabel’s Billy didn’t get it and was left behind in the original pasture. When he realized that everyone was gone, he let out some little bellowettes. I had followed the herd to the barn yard and was amazed at what I witnessed next. Thelma, upon hearing Billy’s blatting, did an about-face and ran at full tilt back to where she had come from, followed by Billy’s mother and Grandmother Angel. Only the relatives ran back, the rest of the herd started grazing the nice grass near the barn, apparently unaware that anything out of the ordinary was afoot. Thelma must have forgotten her arthritis, and ran at the full speed that only a concerned Great-grandmother can muster from an old and tired body when one of their kin is in need. The three of them got to the pasture, rounded up little Billy and headed back along the route to the barn, still at a full gallop but this time with Billy in the group.

Pretty amazing sight it was and one that speaks volumes about the intelligence of these animals and relationship they have with one another

Peace

We are here surrounded by peaceful symbols, nature, quiet snowy landscape, the stillness of a Sunday afternoon uninterrupted, a cozy fire in the stove, dinner in the oven and the dog sleeping away his afternoon in his favorite place by the couch. What other trappings could so work to give peace?

I know there is a big and diverse world out there with lots of people, most of whom are not as fortunate to have their dreamed of trappings of peace and contentment, with war, terror, sickness, disease and unrest so prevalent and intrusive upon this longed for need common to humanity. Today I have been thinking about the importance of outward circumstances and how they contribute to our need for inner peace.

The inner emotions I normally experience range along an incline from deep inner peace through the state of general well being to a generally unrestful state which is my today’s experience. The Bible says that ” Jesus is our peace”and I can vouch for the truth of that statement in my own life. Yet like so many other humans I strive to create my own tangible version of peace by manipulating my environment and find that usually I am somewhat disappointed in the final imperfect product and result.

Take this farm as my prime example. We have worked many years to create this life which we now live and enjoy but find that enjoyment and inner peace are very different. The effort that we have expended to surround ourselves with the outward trappings of peace sometimes seem weak and unproductive in this quest. Oh, we have our blissful moments but are they a result of our living ways or something else working through these conditions to meet us and set us at inner ease?

Don’t get me wrong, as I personally would not want to trade places with anyone and do love our farm and life here. But having all the physical parts in place only highlights the incompleteness of its’ power to meet that inner need for peace. One is without and the other within. The outer reduces the distractions and sets the stage but inner contentment is from another source.

It may be that inner peace is really beyond our circumstances. I once saw a picture depicting inner peace which was of a bird , a Baltimore Oriole, feeding its’ young in one of those hanging nests which they are noted for. This nest was shown blowing in a hard wind and was located on a tree branch right above a turbulent waterfall. Hmmm, not the most peaceful way to raise a family.

So where is the answer? Maybe it’s in this Bible verse ” Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and all these things will be added to you”. Is the cart sometimes before the horse? Think about it.

Feeds, seeds and other needs

Sometimes when I feel a need for some sociability or just plain want to get away from the farm for a while I go to the feed store. Of course I usually am looking to buy something also like salt or beet pulp or dog food which is why I went this morning. Saturday morning at the our local feed store is a busy time with lots of people on similar errands.

The store is housed in a old, very high and large red barn. The upper part likely encloses bulk storage bins now unused because all the feed is shipped pre-bagged to the store. These bags are stored in the feed storage area on the lowest floor which is a half story above the driveway allowing for loading at a loading dock in the back. In this area are kinds of feed in bags neatly stacked in orderly piles on the well worn wooden floor. Hanging on the walls are an assortment of hand tools like barn brooms, pitch forks and other useful farm hand tools. High up on one wall is an enclosed galvanized conveyor which hearkens back to the day when bulk feed deliveries were still available from the store. Along the west side is a railroad track siding and often a railroad car is parked against the building with the doors open into the feed room functioning as a temporary barn addition with bags of feed and other products inside. More than once I have gone into the car and picked up my feed order.

Today as happens many times, I met a friend on the platform and we passed some time in talking. Chuck is a retired building contractor who buys, trains and sells riding and cutting horses. Today he was telling me about a new mare he was working with and training to pull a wagon for his own use and enjoyment. I also met one of my customers from our local farmers market.

At the counter was the normal Saturday mornings free munchies, donuts, cheese and crackers and today grapes. Also a tray of dog treat samples and of course the tiger cat sleeping or walking the counter top rubbing on whoever will make themselves available. And as always waiting on the floor is the store border collie ready to chase anything you might like to toss for her.

It’s a pleasant family run place to go to where you have the privilege of dealing with the owners and operators of this old and charming business. Aptly named Community Feed store its a place of gathering, talking about the weather and picking up farm supplies.

Not being a person who like to shop I must admit I always enjoy going to feed store.