Winter on the Farm

A while ago I got a message from one of my aunts saying she missed my blog posts.  I guess I hadn't posted anything in a while.  She suggested that I write about farming in the winter.  I replied, basically saying that I was currently too grumpy to write such a post because I had just finished pushing snow off of my farm-sized driveway.  I did, however, end up writing this blog that very day.

I tried to keep positive.

Sometimes I need to get creative to get chores done in the winter.

Farming in the winter is tough.

It's inconvenient to trudge through deep snow day after day.

It's unpleasant to have to bundle up in layers and still be frozen by the time chores are done.

The short days are depressing.

The cows can't graze because there's loads of snow all over the pasture, so we have to feed them near a water source that doesn't freeze in the cold temperatures, which basically limits us to feeding close to the farm yard once the snow gets too deep.  Feeding them in a concentrated area means that their manure gets concentrated in that area instead of being spread over the pasture and fields, so we watch it pile up, knowing we'll have to pay someone to haul it to the fields later in the year.

Calving season happens in the winter.  I'd love to move calving to May, but that's planting season and I have no idea how I could possibly split my time between the herd and the fields without seriously neglecting both.  Calving season is fun because there are lots of cute little calves bouncing around, bringing hope at the end of a long winter.  It's incredibly hard to have calving in the winter, though.  It gets so cold sometimes that we have to pack all of the cows we think might calve that night into the barn so the new calves don't freeze.  Our barn is not big enough for that.  And then there's the horrible task of getting up every few hours to check the cows in the night.  There's no getting back to sleep after walking across the frozen farm yard, a sharp wind stinging your face.

Winter means ice and ice means danger.  Ice is dangerous for me because I might slip and fall in front of the cattle and get trampled.  I might spin out with the tractor and slide down a hill, praying all the while that the tractor doesn't tip and kill me.  I might slip and hurt myself.  Ice is dangerous for the animals because they can slip, too.  Earlier this winter, when there was a lot of ice, it seemed like there was a new calf turning up each day with a sprained ankle or sore leg and there was nothing I could do to stop it.  One of my butcher steers even managed to blow out his stiple (basically the knee joint on the hind leg) because he slipped on the ice.

And then there's the snow.  Snow makes work.  City folks have to shovel their sidewalks.  I have to start up the tractor and spend a couple of hours plowing my driveway just so I can get to the road.  If we need the squeeze chute or cattle scale, I have to shovel those out.  When it snows a lot or gets extra cold, we have to give the cattle extra straw for bedding.

Winter is also paper work season.  There's plenty of work to do outside, but most of it isn't urgent, so some winter days are spent in the office, trying to remember how that accounting system works, or sifting through records to make reports.  I also spend time updating my website and writing blogs, on the chance that I might catch the attention of a potential customer later in the year.

Winter is a season of stress.  Did I harvest enough hay, silage, and green feed to get the cows through the winter?  This year, the answer for me and for a lot of farmers in Alberta is, "No." 

Are the cattle waterers all still working?  Have the lines burst underground or have the heating elements failed?  Those things always seem to happen in the winter. 

What is the weather doing?  Will I be able to get to town tomorrow?  Will this warm snap cause my alfalfa to winter-kill? 

What are the markets doing?  Will I be able to sell those cull cows soon?  Will the price be decent when I sell my calves?  Can I get a contract for the crops in the bins?  Are the crops still stable in the bins?  If they heat or spoil, what will I do?

The beauty of hoar frost is something I will always to admire.

Winter isn't all bad.  It is beautiful.  The days when silvery hoar frost covers every branch, every barb on the fence wire, every hair on the cows - those days are magical.

Winter is a time to catch up on reading, to learn as much as possible to take into the farm operation next year.

Winter is a time to dream.  It's a time to pore through bull sale catalogues and seed catalogues and forage guides, looking for the little bit of excellence I might afford to bring home to improve my herd or my fields this year.  It's a time to read from and listen to farmers who have built farms like the one I'd like to have and to imagine that I could actually achieve that level of greatness.

Winter is a time to plan.  It's a time to pull out past records and see what worked and what didn't.  It's a time to decide what needs to change and what needs just a little tweak.  It's a time to re-evaluate field plans and herd plans, to see whether they work for what I need.  It's a time to look at the financial statements and see exactly how much I can spend next year.

What is winter like on the farm?  I'm not sure I can say.  It isn't the best season, nor is it the worst.  It's just another season.  On the farm, each season is thrilling and difficult at the same time.  Each season is something to get through and something to enjoy.  In the winter I get to enjoy the slower pace, while getting through the monotonous office work and difficult weather conditions.

What is winter like on the farm?  You tell me.