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Cow House

Jun
4

I’ve got Dumplin and Moon Pie in the goat yard, where Glory Bee joins them during the day after milking. In the evenings, Glory Bee goes to the back barnyard to fill her milk tanks for the morning. But the days, oh the days. The girls are so happy when their mommy is with them. But I hate it when I go out there and discover they’re GONE!
IMG_2340
It freaks me out EVERY TIME. Because I’m a slow learner like that. And then I have to check the goat house.
IMG_2342
And there they are. And now it’s a cow house!


Man, am I ever going to have to clean that out when I move the cows later…..

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Posted by Suzanne McMinn on June 4, 2014  

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Comments

5 Responses | RSS feed for comments on this post

  1. 6-4
    5:46
    pm

    Awwww isn’t that CUTE how they are enjoying the little shed. Maybe they like the shade? I love that the “sisters” can spend time together. Your cows are so pretty! :purpleflower:

  2. 6-4
    6:31
    pm

    That is so funny! Suzanne, how much longer will Dumplin’ be with you? I recall that you sold her to a neighbour.

  3. 6-4
    11:05
    pm

    Just wanted to tell you that I loved your book!
    I also greatly admire your courage to have your dream farm without a man. Gasp! :)
    I hadn’t discovered your website until I read your book, but I love it.
    I just wish I didn’t live so far away so I could come to your retreats. I live in Arizona.
    Someday I hope to have a small farm of my own, but for now I’ll try to be content where God has placed me, and I’ll just enjoy the farm life through you.
    I spent some time in WV last summer and wish I had known about you then.
    God bless you.

  4. 6-5
    7:54
    am

    I think Dumplin’s just staying forever, lol. My neighbor is opening a field on his farm where we can run all the cows through, and I’ve already put up a connecting gate.

  5. 6-5
    2:44
    pm

    Those cute little stinkers!

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The Slanted Little House

"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....



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