Husbandry Came Naturally To Our Mother

Husbandry doesn't have anything to do with being a husband. It is the practice of cultivating crops and breeding and raising livestock. Our mother excelled at animal husbandry. She kept detailed records on each of her cows, when they were bred, when the calves were due, whether the calf was a bull or heifer, what she named it, if it was kept or sold, including for how much and sometimes to whom.
She had a cow from the time she was a teenager until she was 80 years old. By then she had run out of ideas for names and let us and her grand-kids name them. For instance there was the year I came up with the idea of naming all the heifers something that rhymed with one of the mother cows, Blackberry. So there was Merry, Gerry, Cherry, Kerry, Sherry. Mom kidded that she had to be careful about talking about her cows when she went to club because one of the members was named Gerry. And we assured my daughter, Kari, that the cow wasn't named after her because it was spelled differently.
The black cow in the picture might have been Funny Face while the red one was another Tootsie. It happened some of the names got re-used. She had a Beauty I and a Beauty II, but only one Ugly and one Spot-Nose. As well as the one, the only, DUMBO. Dumbo was one of the cows I always milked. I don't remember a specific reason why we called her that - only that her name just fit her in general.

I've always loved this picture of my Mom and her cows - possibly the last spring she raised calves before selling her small herd June 8, 1999. We were there living on the farm the last three years she had cows and were able to help her with them. Even before that I would help when there for a weekend. I remember one time a cow had her calf down in the corner south of the house and Mom wanted to get the cow and calf into the barn for the night. I half-carried, half-pushed the calf all the way to the barn. The whole time the old cow was eyeing me suspiciously. Just as I got almost to the barn, the cow decided to take me. I remember getting down and putting my arms over my head, expecting to be bunted or run over any second. Luckily the cow stopped before hitting me and we got them both on into the barn.

My younger brother and I were talking about the cows when he was here. I said something about April being one of the cows I used to milk and he said, "No, not April, she was my cow." Meaning I couldn't have milked April when I was a teenager because I'm ten years older than Les and April wasn't born yet. She was his 4-H dairy cow. It seems I remember him having one heckuva time getting her to lead.
True to form, Mom kept track of all of April's calves beginning in 1968 with Maynard; '69 Marne; '70 Julie; '71 Colonel; '72 Macy; '73 Gus; '74 Joshua (died); '75 Cane. In 1976 April had a "nice big bull calf". "Dead."

Mom's animal husbandry extended to her Hampshire hogs (Sally Ann and Henrietta were two of them), keeping track of them in her book just as she did the cows. She helped me get a start with my own when she gave me four gilts, Faith, Hope, Charity and Grace. I loved my girls and their babies. Nadette being a Border Collie wanted to herd them, but pigs are pretty hard to herd.

Mother kept track of her crops, too - what she planted and when. The date she picked her first mess of asparagus and rhubarb; April 11. She even noted April 26 - "Barn Swallows returned."