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My name is Linda Brown. I live on a farm on the western slope of Colorado, in the high mountain desert. I’ve lived here all my life, hailing back four generations on my father’s side. Today I blog about our farm, the everyday activities that keep the farm going. I also write about my thoughts and dreams and goals. On Friday’s I always write about TLC Cai-Cai. Our sweet kitty who helps keep the farm safe. And Boo Berry Betty, a breeder dog learning to be a Farm Dog! The lovely thing about blogging it opens the world up for all of us to reach out and meet people from many different cultures and different ways of life. You can find me every day (but Saturday) at https://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com/ Your Friend on a Western Colorado Farm, Linda Brown

Little Acts Create Giants— Monday, June 9, 2014

Tile-HouseWe live on the farm Terry’s Grandfather created…Misty and her family live on the other part of our farm which was started by Terry’s Great Grandfather on his Mother’s side.  (We purchased the farm from the estate many, many moons ago.)

0049Meta and B.J. Brown

The first photo shows the roses that Meta planted way, way, before my time.  Those same roses must be 95 years old now.  They are sweet smelling and every so short lived.  I adore them.

Meta planted them on the side of the Tile House…the house you see behind them.  We call it the Tile House because the whole little house is made from tiles.

When the Tile House was created this farm, the one we live on, was a farm and a Dairy.  It was the only Dairy for the town of Delta.
In the Tile House Meta, and daughters, Benita, and Sally washed up the many, many milk bottles and cream bottles, which were filled with rich, lovely whole milk and delivered early in the morning or late in the evening twice a day.

 

Also, in the Tile House a milk cooler and a cap and bottler shared space with the cleaning tubs.  IMG_4259Out in the barn, B.J., and sons, Jack (Terry’s Dad), and Kenneth milked, fed the cows. Then hauled the milk into the Tile House.  (Remember this was all done by hand.)

In the the Tile House the milk was first filtered, then poured into the cooler, next into the separator for cream, and skimmed milk. then capped and bottled.  The whole milk was just filtered and cooled and capped and bottled.

The wagons were loaded and off the boys would go delivering milk to the residents of Delta.  Once in town they would leave the milk and pick up the empty bottles —Benita said some of those bottles were nasty, nasty, nasty…others were washed and cleaned– sometimes with little thank you notes inside.  The cash for the milk products was always attached to a little envelope waiting with the empty bottles.  Benita said, “It was rare that people didn’t pay and Father had to make the trip to town to visit with those who owed.”

FamilyLeft to right—as I think I know them:  Sally and her husband Bud, the tall son of Sally and Bud in the back, right in front of the tall son is (I think) Meta, then B.J. with his arms around Terry. Next to B.J. is Terry’s Dad, Jack, and another son of Sally and Bud.  Right next to Terry is his best -friend and brother Roger and on the other side is his adored little sister, Carolyn.

The house they are standing in front of is the house we live in today.  It also looks pretty much the same.  🙂

Of the years that I have lived here we have had the special gifts of older people telling us that they remember when Mr. Brown delivered their milk to them, or how Mr. Brown and his sons would willingly give you a free lift to town on the milk wagon so you could get groceries then taking you back home.

Benita  told us that when Father found out about a little family who lost their Dad in a horse and wagon accident and couldn’t afford to have milk…he would drop off a bottle or two as a little surprise.  Never asking for money…just saying: “Oh, I had extra today.  If I didn’t let you have it I would have to pour it out.”

I always think of these little stories when I go into the Tile House, or even just glance at it out of the corner of my eye.  It really is the little acts we perform every day that eventually creates giants.

A farmer’s wife on a farm in Delta, Colorado

Linda

 

 

Making Hay —June 8, 2014

Terry finished up  the last of the hay bales this morning…driving the tractor pulling the hay baler in around 5:00.   He went out as soon as the dew started settling down in the wee hours of early morning…I think around 2:00.  I was asleep when he left.  (It’s around 7 in the morning [now] and he’s all tucked up in bed resting.

MoneyHe started baling yesterday morning around 7,  the dew didn’t set on until then.  He finished around 9 when the sun had finally burned all the dew off the plants. He likes to bale with the dew as it keeps the little alfalfa leaves still attached to the stems.  If you don’t have the dew the baler will knock the leaves off as it picks up the dried alfalfa and smashes it together forming a bale, then you are left with just a bundle of stems.   If there is too much dew or it is baled to green the bale will mold, or worse yet heat up and combustion will occur.

making-hay-for-blog

Making nice quality hay is a art.

I must brag a bit —I am married to a hay artist! 🙂

This making of good hay has always been a strong interest of his.  When Terry was 10 he was in charge of the cutting and baling of his Dad’s 80 plus acres of alfalfa.  Terry’s father farmed 160 acres and milked cows for the Clymer’s Dairy in Grand Junction, CO…I think he had somewhere around 50 head. Terry’s Dad raised all the feed–corn, hay for the cows, plus Red Clover for seed and pinto beans, maybe other crops.

By the time Terry was 12 he had a small hay making business (with the help of his Dad and his Dad’s equipment) — he made hay for his  Dad’s  Dairy, and several neighboring ranches.

I think his love of making a nice, high quality hay bales started way back there.  The example set by his Dad, his Mother’s drive to create something and to create it to perfection.

It still holds true today.

stacking-hay-13

So he creates the hay bales and then it’s the dog’s and my turn to go help. While he is loading the hay with the stack wagon….a wonderful invention that took away the ‘hay crew’ (a team of young men, usually high school age, and the farmer…and possibly the farmer’s daughter to drive the tractor.  So what you had was the tractor driver, a young man to heft and swing a 50-80 pound bale onto a moving trailer/wagon on each side of the trailer/wagon and a young man on the top of the trailer/wagon to stack the load as high as possible.  Once it was HIGH the whole load and the people headed into the stack where the farmer (usually) was waiting.  Backing up the trailer/wagon the four men started stacking the hay bales creating a huge hay stack.   By noon–the hay crew arrived around 7 in the morning–lunch was ready.  This consisted of a HUGE meal—the farmer’s wife and if she had a daughter or two at home, spent the whole morning creating a giant feast!  For instance—Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, salad, corn bread or biscuits or homemade rolls, with some rich dessert to top everything off.  Large pitchers of ice water, or iced tea, or lemon-aid helped wash the whole thing down.  As soon as the meal was over it was back to the field.  Everyone received their paycheck after the last bale was stacked, maybe two days or so later.)

LoadingThe stack wagon simplified the whole operation.  Terry runs the stack wagon,

stacking-hay-30

He is unloading at the stack right here.

YepI run the four-wheeler.Fuzzy stays right with me.  He sees it his duty to always be ‘right with me’.

Work

Boomer sees it his duty to check out what is happening all over the farm. (He is that tiny black and brown and white dot clear at the end of the field.)

See

(See Boomer in the brush? 🙂 )

Fuzzy and I go up and down making sure the bales are straight so Terry doesn’t have to get off and straighten the bales;  helping them slide right in and up into the stack on the wagon.

Still-helpingAfter I get done with straightening the bales, I take the loose hay missed by the baler and load it into a little cart attached to the four-wheeler…once more going around the field–forking the yellow sweet clover into the high grass at the end of the field for the deer to munch and the loose hay into my cart. As my cart fills I haul it to the last row still to be baled.  It’s hot work.

It’s important to get all the hay off because it will smother the alfalfa underneath and plug up the furrows not allowing the water to flow to the end of the rows.

My arms are strong so it doesn’t take me overly long.

Hay Stack But today is Sunday. Today we rest. Although, Terry had to bale when the dew was perfect, we will finish the work tomorrow. Today we only do what MUST be done, like irrigate. Also two of the grandchildren are coming to spend Sunday and Monday and part of Tuesday with us since their parents are going to Craig to look for houses.

You have a nice Sunday everyone…it’s always good to have a sort of day off once a week.

You Farm Friend,

Linda

 

 

The Adventures of Fuzzy and Boomer on Friday—Weekly Report

Latest News:

fet

Sammy-Sam the cat …

Catevery day and all night he patrols the farm. He used to go way over to Misty’s and check out everything over there, but last winter he ate a poisoned mouse and just hasn’t felt like tackling that huge long walk anymore.

PICT0008

Of course, age is creeping up on him…he turned 13 this year. Still Sammy-Sam does a good job of gathering news and information from around the farm buildings and the house.

IMG_3485

Dad-–Dad went up to the Upper End to check to see if any Aliens had landed.  Mom, Fuzzy and I went along.  Mom checked out the drain ditch and Dad walked to the end of the irrigation ditch.

My-best-helper

Fuzzy guarded the Four-Wheelers…his job was to make sure we had our rides to get out of there if the Aliens were around.

Robin   Robin—Robin sang out his report that The Aliens could be found out by the haystack.

PICT0114 Dad and the two little girls hurried as fast as their legs could carry them. Who wouldn’t like to see a Alien…young, old or in-between?

Squirrel

Squirrel-gossiped to me, Boomer-Reporter-at-Large— that squirrels are going extinct and scientists have now put them on the “endangered species” list.  He says by the end of this week Squirrels will be extinct so Fuzzy and I cannot, he repeated NOT chase him or his friends.  The world would be a very dreary place without squirrels.

PICT0026

(Fuzzy and I agreed so we won’t chase Squirrel every again…until…hum, NOW! —-RUN SQUIRREL!)

Report-1

I, Boomer, the Farm Reporter says: Dad made several trips to change water yesterday and the day before and the day before that and….

PICT0125

Fuzzy and I think Dad has figure out time travel—hop on the four-wheeler and you can travel into future and into the past – within minutes.

PICT0126

Up to change the water, back to house, up to change the water…

PICT0018

BREAKING NEWS:   Sammy-Sam says

PICT0006

the Raccoon is back………….

Chase

Bark, bark, yip, yip….COME ON FUZZY…RACCOON!!!
wert

Boomer

 

Good Fences and Gates — Thursday, June 5, 2014

Theresa over at the Run*A*Round hosts a Good Fences Thursday.  Hop over there and see what she has posted and then check out what other cool fences and gates are around the world.

Here is my contribution for this week….

CementIt looks like just and ordinary chain link fence, but if you look closely the posts are made of cement.  I liked the appeal  and the idea the posts were homemade.

You are all welcome to join in…just hop over to Run*A*Round Ranch and link your fence or gate post each Thursday.

Your Friend,

Linda

 

A Tinge of Wonder — June 4, 2014

 

 

 

 

Bladen brought me over a gift.  He knows how much I enjoy ‘times gone by’.  Because he hasn’t been feeling well (he has been fighting pneumonia for three weeks (he is on medicine) and got bored. (No physical exertion with this mad disease).

Blade's

 

He spend several hours, cutting, gluing and creating a castle for Grammy.

How sweet this is!blueMy yard is doing well…although we  have extremely hot days (94*-34ºC) the night are cool (49*–9.4ºC).  By the time the heat builds up the hot winds develop.

There is also flooding in the low lands.

Spring-deer  The Gunnison and the Uncompaghre River are experiencing record melt (translated that means we had lots of really nice snow in ‘them thar hilsl’.  🙂

Both rivers converge at Delta..our town.  Once they converge (the Uncompaghre River (Un-come-pah-gray  accent on the pah) merging into the Gunnison River).

The Gunnison River flows on down to Grand Junction, Colorado, where it meets up with the Colorado River, the Grand Old Dame of Rivers of the West.

The flood warnings and floods are all along all the rivers clear to the Colorado-Utah border.  Sure does help with drought…water that is.

Sort-of

 I haven’t seen in rainbows for some time now, when I saw this ‘sort’a’ rainbow in the sprinkler I decided that I have to take my gifts where I find them. 🙂
Better-feeder

It’s the little things the buoys us up really.

What's-for-Dinner Like this…a duck  swimming with a bunch of goldfish.  I thought he might be looking for lunch, but the fish were not afraid; they swam all around his feet and even touched him several times.

Summer-Goose

Speaking of birds…we have several Canada Geese who have decided to stay with us this summer.  They have nests in our upper end and hang out in the fields.

From Elaine Kenny

But the coolest thing I saw was an emailed photo from a long time blog reader Elaine Kenny…Conversations on back porch!
Evening-2It really is all there…wonder, excitement, joy…in the little things…big happenings are also nice, but in reality it’s the collection of little things that really makes every day have a tinge of wonder.
Your Friend,
Linda

 

First Cutting of Hay/Alfalfa —- June 3, 2014

The header is a photo of our home coming in from first light Irrigation.  The sun just starting to rise — creating such a beautiful backdrop to the house and buildings I had to stop and take a photo.

home-in-the-morning.jpgTerry started cutting the alfalfa yesterday afternoon

Making-hay-1It is some of the best alfalfa we have ever had…the standing alfalfa reaches my knees.  The rows are fat and thick and fluffy.

Going-through-the-sweet-cloIt’s so thick he is having trouble getting the old mower through the field. He will finish up this morning sometime before noon.

Sweet-CloverThe yellow at the bottom of the field is Sweet Clover.  We don’t bale it up but fork it over for the deer to munch on…cows will eat it, but customers don’t like buying it.  Instead of wasting this sweet smelling weed we let the many deer (who live on our place) have an dried “hay” treat.

ThickNow if the weather will just hold off for the week and we have a drying breeze —not a row tossing wind–we will get this alfalfa into hay form, then into small bale form, we will get it onto the back of trucks or trailers, and haul a huge bunch down to Delta Elevator for them to sell for winter feed.

Evening-3Please keep your fingers crossed and send Magic thoughts for good hay making weather…Terry and I will really appreciated it!

Your Friends on a farm in Delta, Colorado

Linda

 

 

 

More About Dragons—June 2, 2014

Yesterday I wrote about Chasing Dragons, copying and idea from another fellow blogger.  As I was writing I remembered I had a dragon in my own yard.

Dragon-standingA tiny little replica of Nessie, the Loc Ness Monster.  🙂

As a child I grew up with parents that adored anything Irish…my maiden name is Doyle  :).  It was my parent’s dream to get to go to Ireland someday.  After Daddy died my brother took our Mother to Ireland.  Upon arriving back home she told me she felt complete now for some reason.  The next day she passed on.  Her words will stay with me forever.

Anyway, as I grew  my maternal grandmother (Ruth Love (Wootton) Thomas) told me tales  of the Wootton clan from England…our ancester was Thomas Wootton, Sheriff of Kent in Queen Elizabeth I time. (Proven fact that we are descendants).

In my later years, as an adult, I read The Diana Gabalodon Outlander series, featuring Jamie Frazier and Clair.  Set in Scotland.

Then, of course, I have read off and on (many times) the  Mary Stewart’s Merlin series set in Wales.

All these books, family stories, longings of my parents transported me to many centuries past and worlds unknown.  I think I have always had a longing in my soul to visit the ancient United Kingdom.   To travel backward to where that inexplicable longing begins, to a world of enchantment, to really hear this story that I can not quite hear.  A mysterious feeling which tugs at my breastbone just as twilight evens out the day, leveling the time, with the message from the past hovering in the gathering shadow just out of reach.

(As a side note…Terry’s, grandfather is from England.)

Stadning-3So I did the next best thing; I created a standing stones garden, complete with my own Loch Ness visitor. As I created this world I began to understand that anyone can comprehend this  world–our everyday modern world.  But the other realms–the ones that creep in on the evening breezes, or whisper through the ancient rocks and stones, or vibrates along the surface of the fast moving canal water is really the

Settingalchemy between past and present, past and future…lifting us just a tad to see that even way back when is the same as today.  That way back then was to those who lived in that time it was ordinary.

This-Dance    My grandchildren talk about how cool it would be to live in the 1920’s…when tap was king and vaudeville was entertainment— it’s all relative, isn’t it?

Your friend,

Linda

 

 

Chasing Dragons— June 1, 2014

I got this idea from reading Thoughts from the Road’s post on His Chasing Dragons!

Dragon-e

A while back Terry and I saw this really cool Dragon.  It was way up on a hillside.

Flick  Even further up was something strange and orange and like a flick of flame or something.

Or I have no idea what it was supposed to be…food, dragon flame?  Who knows.  I’ll let you decide.  It was so far up it was really hard to tell…looked just like an orange dot.  I had to take a photo of it to see what it was.  After enhancing the photo I still don’t know.

pThe days are warm (hot) and lovely here.  Although, we are experiencing lots of wind, I don’t mind.  Terry did hook up the swamp cooler so the house could stay relatively free of blowing dirt.  When the fine dust/dirt gets into the house I’m rather discouraged, as it means I have to dust…I am not a fan of dusting.

I would rather—vacuum, sweep, mop, clean closets and drawers, wash windows, paint the house inside and out, weed the yard, do anything in the yard, irrigate on the farm…you name it—than dust!

(But I do dust, I hope you understand…it is just right up there with eating boiled okra.)

SherbertTerry got the pinto beans in the ground yesterday!  Yippee!  We are three weeks behind on everything because of the cold wet weather we have had.  It isn’t just us behind, everyone is behind.

Rowing-outThe corn is up and rowing out, it should make it to ‘knee-high by the 4th of July’—always the goal.  If it makes that tall by that time it will make before any killing freezes occur.

“Time marches on”  As my Momma would say…here it is the 1st day of June.  Happy June 1st everyone!

Your farm friend,

Linda

 

 

 

 

The Adventures of Fuzzy and Boomer on Friday—Tell Me a Story

Hey, Fuzzy!

Hummm, snort, uff….Wha….What Boomer?

Would you tell me a story?

A story?

Yes, tell me about what it’s like to be a Cow Dog?

A Cow Dog?

Yes, like when you were young and you helped Mom and Dad with the cows.

Ah, yes…those were some good time, Boomer, some good times.

Well, let’s see…

First, before I came to live with Mom and Dad I was raised by a Cowboy.  From a little tiny pup I was taken everywhere and then some with my cowboy.  He is the one who taught me just what to do and how to do it.

Some stuff he didn’t have to tell me, I just knew…it’s in my blood, so to speak.

Like hunkering down and walking toward a cow that is determined to do something she isn’t supposed to do?

Yeah, like that and some other stuff that would take too long to explain to you.

I know, Fuzzy.  It’s just like how I can smell all sorts of stuff and can bay!

Er, yeah, (clearing the throat), Like that, Boomer.

Mr.-Davis

(Mr. Davis’ cows)

Anyway, there was this time, after I came to live with Mom and Dad, that Mom was out looking for a cow she knew was about to have her little one.  We looked everywhere…out on the alfalfa fields, in the old corn stalks, up at the Upper End, over on the Back Forty, and in the Wildness Area.

It was on the Cactus Hill Mom and I came across the new little bovine. Just lay’n in the darnest spot. He was sort of tucked in under the point of the hill on a scanty patch of grass right out there in full view of any sort of coyote that might come wandering by.

Growing-Calves

 

(Our cow from several years ago)

And he was all alone…no Mom anywhere, not across the hill in the sagebrush and rabbit brush, not over at the end of the place  where the farm ends and Sinner’s farm begins, not behind us where we just came from.

Mom told me to find the Momma so I sat off sniffing here and there but the leads were cold.

Now…just so you know…Momma cows will do this…tell their little ones to stay right here, don’t move, and don’t move for anything!!!  ‘I don’t care what…you don’t move’.  Then go off to fill their tummies with good things that make lots of milk for the calf.

Now Mom, was getting a little nervous about this whole thing…the calf was parked right in the known area where the coyotes denned up.  Also, a smart cow wouldn’t go very far from her unprotected baby, she would eat and then come back, check on the little one, maybe take a rest, then feed her baby, then start the process all over again.

This calf didn’t have anyone around …. Since the day was starting to draw to a close, Mom decided to load the little one up and bring it into the corral.

Her thinking was to get the calf into the corral (and out of coyote country) then when the Mom’s bag got really full she would head into the corral where they would pair up again.

Would she do that Fuzzy?  Really? Or just hang out there Mooing?

Our-calf-2

 

(one of our cows and calves from the past)

Mom and Dad have had cows come in before, but this time Mom was going to get Dad and flush her out of wherever she was and between all of us-Mom, Dad, and myself…bring her into the corral.

Mom and I, with the calf tied on the back of Mom’s four-wheeler, right where you and I ride Boomer, we headed out.

“Keep a sharp look-out for the Mom, Fuzzy!  If we can get her to see the calf she will follow us right into the barn and the corrals.”

Slowly we drove in.  I zigged and zagged here and there, I ran up hills and into the swamp, then I dove through dried out grass taller than my head…looking and looking for that silly mother cow.

No Mother here or there or anywhere.

Bull

(our former bull and cows)

Gradually we got back to the barn and the corrals.  Mom and I could see all the other Moms snacking down on the hay in the manger…suddenly the calf hollered…

MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

There trotting toward us at a very fast clip came MOMMA COW!!! She must have gone in the nightly feeding as we were going out to find her.  She was screaming and yelling, frantic eyeballs rolling this way and that, hooves flinging clips of mud and dirt in a cloud behind her.

Of course this started the little one to yelling louder and louder, squirming hard to get off the four-wheeler and to his mother.

Mom, stopped the four-wheeler and just waited.

The cow lumbered up and did a quick sniff all over her baby.  Then mooed a soft sound asking the little one to get down and come with her.

Mom didn’t want this cow to take the calf back up and hide it again so she started the machine back up and slowly, ever so slowly drove the wiggling calf back to the corrals and the barn…Momma cow walking behind very careful to keep her nose as close as she could to the little one.

Back home Mom drove into the birth’n pen, followed by the cow and myself.  She untied the calf and helped it jump off into the loving sounds of the Momma cow.

Since the Momma cow and the calf were pretty busy with each other, it was a snap for Mom to get the four-wheeler out of the pen and the gate shut.  After all that she forked over hay into the feed bunk and sprinkled some nice cracked corn on the hay flakes for the Mom.

Being the cow that she was, that old girl left her kid and immediately rushed over for the special treat of cracked corn on hay flakes.  It didn’t bother her little calf at all…he just trotted right over and started having supper while his mom chowed down on her food.

New

(the calf of the story)

“All is well that ends well, Fuzzy!” Mom said as she bent down and gave me lots of rubs and pats. “Thanks for your help!  Let’s go in now and get our supper.”

So we did.

Gosh, Fuzzy.  That was really cool.  You knew just what to do and what Mom needed.  You’re my Hero, Fuzzy.

Humph, snort! Er, well, Thanks, Boomer.  It really wasn’t much.

It was to me Fuzzy.  And it was to Mom.

Well, I guess it was, Boom, I was just doing my job, that’s all.

Thanks, Fuzzy, that was a great story.

n

You are welcome, Boom.  You are welcome.

po

(Told to Boomer one long boring hot afternoon as Mom worked in the garden.)

A New Dog in the Group — May 28, 2014

HELPClose to the cab of the pickup is Balou, Shannon’s dog…next to Balou is Molly, Shannon’s boy friend’s dog, the there is Boomer and Fuzzy (you know those two 🙂 ).  Behind Boomer and Fuzzy is Shannon’s ex-husband’s dog Rocky, then Hank Puff the grandchildren’s dog, the last dog is Buddy’s dog.  Buddy passed away two years ago.

It’s a pack of dogs, that is for sure!

Rocky and Balou are Rottweilers, Hank is a Marshmallow, Fuzzy is 1/2 Border Collie and 1/2 Sheltie, Boomer is a Beagle, Houston a Mountain Cur, and Molly is a Blue Tick Hound.

huston-in-the-tree1

We were aware that Houston (better known as Princess) could climb trees.  On every walk she went, if there was a tree close by, up she would go.

Climbing-UpBut we didn’t know this…

Up-MollyCan you spot the Blue Tick Hound in the tree?

Tree-2Boomer just sat on the ground and watch with all of us

Molly-McDogWe are all very surprised.  She scaled the tree sniffing and exploring the whole way.  Then headed out on this very dead branch…we yelled for her to come down

Down

 

Which she took her sweet time of hearing and understanding and coming down, minding is NOT something she has been used to doing.

This dog has live her whole life on a chain.  She was extremely timid, frightened and half starved.  I’m not sure, but I think she is between one and two years old.  Gradually she is learning it’s okay to be free, but you need to come when called, you need to respond when asked to do something…life is more than a chain.

In-a-tree

 

Boomer just watches Houston or Molly climb trees.   He looks at them as if to say “Trees are for Birds Silly.  The best smells are on the ground”.

As for Fuzzy and I…we are learning what life is like in a pack…rather over-whelming, I must say.  Although, we don’t see them often when they do come over it’s a huge group to go with for a walk on the farm!

Hot-Late-SPring-SKYFuzzy and I really rather like the solitude of just us for a walk.  Bedlam is rather daunting.

It takes about 10 full minutes for everyone to settle down and get into the swing of how the walk is supposed to be.  Then just like geese we are off…Shannon and I in the lead, the two old dogs, Fuzzy and Balou bringing up the rear.

Have a good day everyone…just think You Could Be Walking in a Pack!

Tee Hee,

Your Farm Friend,

Linda