Today’s the day when calving season effectively ends and my house hopefully stops smelling like afterbirth and cow manure.

The standing rule is: If cows haven’t had calves by March 1, they’re sent down the road.

It’s not that they’re bad cows; they just don’t fall in the breeding schedule anymore and must be culled.

At least one of the cows got the memo and a new calf was waiting this morning, much to Squidget’s delight.

Jared herds the newest and probably last calf toward the barn.

About a dozen cows, though, are being sold.

And I can breathe easier, literally.

Since calving season has begun my house has been turned into a barnyard, thanks to muck boots covered in manure and straw and coveralls coated in birth slime.

Other than branding, which comes with a stench all its own, today should be the last stinky one for a while, I think, so all the barn clothes and boot bins are going through the wash — several times.


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