I am a camel...

I try not to complain about the weather, but this winter has been rough. The storm we just had in Maine is the straw that literally broke my back. Okay, so "broken" may be a slight exaggeration of the intense knee-buckling pain that fires across my back when I stand up, sit down, turn, attempt to walk, breathe, or use any part of my lower back.  It will heal, almost certainly before the first crocus pops up in the early spring sun. Still, I don't know if I can handle another storm, physically or mentally, until 2015.

Normally, with a pulled back muscle I deal with the pain and after a few days, things are back to normal. In addition to the pain this time, however, is the fact that I am primary caregiver for my grandfather, my mother as she recovers from shoulder surgery, a hyper dog, a finicky cat, one temperamental house rabbit and 17 Simmental beef cows. Timing could not be worse - there is an awful lot of snow that needs to be moved.

Although I am begging Mother Nature for mercy, and feeling miserable for not being able to perform the tasks that I should, I try to see the positive in my situation. I hate the feeling of being dependent on others; I wish my cousin didn't have to put out round bales for the cattle and the neighbor didn't have to navigate treacherous roadways late in the evening to feed our bull and steer in the barn. Yet, I'm sure the opportunity will arise when I will be able to help them. It's the cycle of community, through good weather and bad.

Facebook: Friend or Foe?

I am a Facebook addict.  I have tried to "kick the habit" and even went off line for several days. And by several, I mean three. Okay, two and a half. Anyway, the point is that I still regularly log in, both on my computer and via my phone.  On my phone I tend to focus on alerts from close friends and updating my own status or uploading photos. On the computer, however, I find myself  scrolling through the newsfeed and refreshing constantly for new comments, notifications, any information that I can use as a distraction, and (guilty pleasure confession) playing games. I chastise myself for wasting time with it and yet I continue to incorporate it into my daily routine.

Over the past several years, my use of Facebook has evolved almost as much as its privacy policies.  At first, I almost exclusively reported that I was "working" or "should be working but playing Farmville instead." Since then, after  a combination of deeper psychological probing ("what's on your mind?"), an exponential increase in my number of associates ("friends") and family drama, I decided to incorporate a greater purpose to my contributions to the site.  For example, I started a page for my favorite Simmental cow Lisa, in which she posts periodic updates about life on the farm from her perspective. Writing for Lisa allows me to use Facebook as an educational tool to promote agriculture as well as practice to sharpen my writing skills.

Beyond my posts, I have connected with people from all areas of my life. As a result, I have been inspired and educated. For starters, several people have enlightened me to various weight loss tools or shared their personal journeys which I find motivating. I discovered My Fitness Pal through Facebook and I cheer on friends making healthy decisions for themselves through programs like Weight Watchers. I've also seen some neat agricultural promotions along with general quotes and sentiments that stimulate my mind. Occasionally professional information and job leads are available.

Bottom line: Facebook can be a foe but it can be a friend. It's all in how you use it, I guess.  In the grand scheme of things I may regret spending so much time on Bejeweled Blitz (even if I did torch it up for over a million points), but there are people who would not be in my life at all if it weren't for social networking. Besides enjoying those renewed friendships, I hope to continue to utilize it in the most positive and beneficial manner possible for both my weight loss struggle and agricultural advocacy, or "agvocacy".  Granted it would be a bit easier if everyone chose to be more positive in their posts but life is meant to be full of challenges, isn't it?

The Adventures of JessAnn Simmentals

Greetings to Rural Women Rock followers and thank you for taking the time to read!

I am a co-owner of JessAnn Simmentals with my mother and brother.  My mother does a lot of the heavy lifting, in more ways than one, but we utilize our different strengths to make our small cow-calf operation work.  I love working with Simmental beef cattle because they make excellent mothers, muscle well and tend to have pretty good dispositions (although our cattle dislike men, for some reason). We refer to ourselves as hobby farmers, and as a hobby, beef cattle can be expensive and stressful at times. But when things go well, and the cattle grow well, then it is the most satisfying work that can be done.

I bought my first Simmental, Lady Nick, from Bartlett Island Farm in 1998. I selected her using the most scientific method possible that only the best judges use: I liked the way the she looked at me. Not the way she looked TO me. She made eye contact and I decided I wanted her.  Lisa is the last daughter of Lady.  Lisa reminds me a lot of her mother, both in looks and disposition. She is now bred to a purebred Simmental bull, after being bred to Holsteins two years in a row, so I hope she has a heifer in the spring.

Mom thinks Lisa is spoiled. She will violate the "hula hoop rule" of personal space with people when grain is involved, and I never have corrected her for it. I'm not the only human spoiling bovines in the operation, however, and I would say that Mom's favorite is Maebelle.

Our cows are as important to us as we are to them.  We do everything we can to ensure they are healthy, safe and content.  Despite our personal off-farm struggles, we have been able to continue developing our herd.  Through this process I learned what my mother is capable of doing when her back is against the wall (which is only part of the reason she is one of my top Rural Women Rock Stars).  Her ability to handle everything on her plate is simply remarkable. I also gained a greater understanding of how important beef cattle, rural living and supportive friends and family are to me.

Thank you Rural Women Rock for the opportunity to share my story, and I hope you enjoyed a little slice of life from Maine.

Snapshot Sunday: Simmentals

Today was a long, tedious and hot day of taking care of our first crop round bales. I helped my mother transport the bales across a set of railroad tracks to our storage area. At one point, I wondered, was this work worth it all? Am I really able to do this and help my mother continue to do this? 

Eventually, after we finished, I had a strong craving for something involving ice cream. So, after taking care of the hay, the dishes, and a few other errands around my grandfather's house, my mother and I sat on the front steps, drinking our root beer floats and watching our Simmentals graze in the upper field. In that moment I knew that it was all worth it.

Little John Meets Facebook

Little John, the most recent addition to our herd of Simmentals, has joined Facebook.  That's right, he has his own page here: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Little-John-the-Simmental/208516512493321?ref=ts

The idea of having our calves communicate with the world via social media had been bouncing around in my brain for a bit, but then a good friend encouraged me to utilize the Facebook page feature as an outlet for both creative writing and agricultural advocacy.  I've had to remind myself not to start out too fast and furious because I don't want to get burnt out, nor do I want to burn out Little John's fans.

I hope this little experiment works but if not, I'll just do my best to learn and improve!

Birth Announcement

So we have a new addition to our family...of Simmentals.  On Saturday, February 19, my ma and I were filling the hay feeders, and I tried to capture calf cuteness with my camera as I walked around among them.  That was when I noticed a 14-inch long string of mucus hanging from "Lizzie"'s lady parts. Now typically, cows in labor don't chow down so we were a little surprised that Lizzie was filling up on the forage.

Once we finished distributing feed, then went in the barn to make sure the maternity pen was ready. Mom hollered "Lizzie!" and I told her she'd crap her pants if Lizzie walked through the door. Well, Lizzie did come walking right in, with only a slight hesitation before going straight through the gate into her calving pen.  Mom did not crap her pants. Neither did I, although I was definitely more shocked that Lizzie did answer to her name.

As soon as she entered the pen, you could tell she was not comfortable.  Since Lizzie had never calved before, we decided to stay a bit just in case there were any problems. After about 40 minutes, and not seeing any hooves yet, Mom decided to check out the calf's position. The calf was in the correct position - front hooves coming first, followed by a nose - but Mom noted that the feet were "huge" and we would be staying for the duration of the birth.

Shortly after, things progressed quickly...until the head started coming out. Mom grabbed some extra pieces of baler twine (we'll be investing in calving chains before our next bouncing bundle of bovine), and stepped in to provide assistance.  The owner of the facility where we house our cows also joined the birthing team, and the three of us pulled as Lizzie pushed.  Finally, the head was free and we kept momentum on the calf as the rest of it spilled out onto the ground. It was a big, big boy.  When we used the calf tape on his front hoof the next day, it gave us an estimate of 132 pounds, plus or minus up to seven pounds due to shrinkage or fill. The average Simmental bull is about 88 pounds, so I figure Lizzie having the bull was like a woman having a 12 pound baby. Naturally.

I have named him Little John (after Robin Hood's right hand man) but he is already the same height as Magnum, a 3/4 Simmental, 1/4 Angus bull calf - and paternal brother - born seven weeks earlier.