Thursday and Friday we tackled the very unpleasant job of cutting and clearing the invasive multi flora rose species from one of the fields. These little bastards have a wide variety of pricks. Tiny pricks, big pricks, and in between pricks. Some would just stick to your hat, jacket, and pants as you tried to pile them, others pierced right through your two to three layer protective gear to cut your legs and hands. I decided rosebushes should be renamed Satan's bush because they are so cruel and prolific.
We did have the baby cows to keep up company. They were out in the field licking the piles of thorny brush. Crazy cows. Here I am cursing the brush and they are licking it like a lollipop. Then again, if you have ever been licked by a cow, its like taking a 50 grit sand paper to your hand, so it probably feels really good to them. I kept hoping they would help pick up some of the branches and stack them for us, but they are a bunch of freeloading slackers.
Interesting fact: cows gestate for the same length as humans, and pigs for aprox 3 months, 3 weeks and 3 days.
Good news. The surviving 6 piglets were still alive and well. They were all running around and for the most part getting out of their mothers way. One little piggy was stepped on and squealed a bit, but seemed relatively unharmed. They have a little escape route under the wooden fence to a straw bed warmed by a heat lamp.
Speaking of baby watch, I thought that I spotted one of the goats giving birth. I alerted the guys and they put her in one of our freshly built kidding pens. Turns out that she was not giving birth, but had a prolapse vagina. Most likely due to her carrying twins or triplets. The pressure is so great that it pushes her uterus out. Apparently that is pretty rare for goats. Or at least none of the guys had witnessed that before. The goats are not due until April, so we are going to have monitor to her pretty carefully.
Friday was Tanjore day. Whenever someone leaves Glynwood or on special occasions the staff go out to eat at Tanjore, the Indian restaurant in Fishkill. Well, I guess we must have impressed them with our awesomeness, or they had a hankering for some buffet, we all went to eat lunch. We were warned that after eating lunch there, we would be rendered incapacitated for the rest of the afternoon. Their prediction rang true. Two plates of Indian food later, our hour lunch turned into two hour lunch. We fed the animals and called it a day.
I Heart Tanjore day!