With the grass growing in leaps and bounds, we decided to move the majority of the herd to the Mountain field. Our cows love to change fields, especially this time of year. As they walked along the path from the south field, the mountain field came into view and the cows almost danced with joy. Spring was here! The daily feedings of hay had ended and the weekly field rotations through glorious grassy fields were beginning.
Left behind in the Backyard field were Pippie and Lucy. Pippie is still struggling with poor body condition and possible arthritis. I have her on pain medication which has made a tremendous improvement in her mobility. Hopefully, her physical condition will improve as well.
Lucy was still expecting her calf. Last year, she was the poor mama who’s calf got tangled up in the polywire and died. I still have nightmares of that morning. Lucy was so depressed last spring that she didn’t breed until late in the season. I waited and waited and waited for this last spring calf. Every day I walked out to the field to check on her progress, and everyday was disappointed.
And then last Wednesday morning, I sensed things were finally happening for Lucy. I watched her all day, sure that labor had started. By evening, just as the rain storm started, her water broke. With the temperature in the forties and the rain pouring down, I headed out every 45 minutes, flashlight in hand, to check on her. Finally at 10:30pm, the calf was safely on the ground. I had grabbed a calf coat and towels in case the baby was too cold to thrive, but was so relieved when just 20 minutes after birth, the calf was up and nursing. No doubt, Lucy had herself a little heifer.
Eight hours later, Lucy’s heifer was still wet from the rain but lively and nursing frequently. By the next day, she was fuzzy and happy, warmed by a sunny, spring morning.
With the last calf born, I scheduled our spring vet day to vaccinate the cows and calves, castrate the little bulls and give the calves their ear tags. I decided to spend a couple of hours on the computer updating my cattle records and generating the spreadsheet in preparation for working the herd. Suddenly, Bill came into the kitchen and announced, “We have a swarm! It’s large and on a fence post, close to the hives”. I gathered Hugo and headed to the garden shed. We haven’t captured a swarm in a few years, so I was excited. I put together a deep hive body box with 10 frames, a base, inner cover and telescoping cover. Because the swarm was hanging around a fence post, I also brought along a couple of bee brushes.
With Hugo tied to the mule, within view of the hives but a safe distance away, we positioned the hive box on the ground next to the post. And then, thankfully, Bill remembered to turn off the power to the electric fence. Trying to guess where the queen was, I used the bee brushes and my hands (with bee gloves on) to scoop up as many bees as possible and drop them into the box.
There were so many bees in the swarm, that even after I put thousands into the box, more remained on the post and in the air. However, when I stood back to watch their behavior, many of the bees were flying around and into the box, so I felt the queen was successfully and safely captured.
I checked back a couple of hours later to find no bees on the post and normal bee activity in and out of the new hive box. Success! I will check the frames in a few days to make sure the bees have built out the frames and the queen is busy laying eggs.
Nothing is more like spring on the farm than new calves and honey bee swarms!