Troubled Waters.
Posted on | March 12, 2013 | 6 Comments
We started out with a Terrific Kid.
And a well-done Famous American (Neil Armstrong) presentation.
Which was great. But then things went downhill fast. Read more
Slimming Down.
Posted on | February 24, 2013 | 8 Comments
Nope. Not about weight loss. Surprise, surprise.
But even if we aren’t trimming calories, we are cutting back on the chores. It’s always fun to have new projects and new additions. But after a while, you have so many things going on that the daily feeding and watering creeps up from 15-20 minutes to 30-45 minutes. When you have to stop at the barnyard gate, picturing all the separate pens in your head and reviewing whether or not everyone got grain and fresh water before you can go inside, it’s a real drag.
So it was a relief to let the Welsummer rooster and hens out of the back pen where they’d been confined, laying purebred Welsummer eggs for me.
And Thunder and his Silkie girls got out of their pen, too. Which is good. Because one of the hens is no longer laying as she is trying go broody.
Yep. That. Again.
Posted on | February 21, 2013 | 4 Comments
My friend read yesterday’s blog post and sent me a picture of a cake. A pig cake.
I was shocked. I was stunned. How did she know I needed a cake? I actually needed several cakes.
One cake was to celebrate.
We needed to celebrate because I am awesome. I know this because my receipt from the Teeter told me so. See?
I got $92.15 worth of groceries for only $26.42. I saved $65.73 in coupons. It’s Super Doubles at the Teeter! Woot! Read more
A Pig Pen.
Posted on | February 20, 2013 | 6 Comments
I suppose this story starts with the weather forecast. As I drove home from night shift, the radio DJ announced that we were in for some sunshine and an afternoon high of 50 degrees. Which seemed like just the break in the weather that I needed to get my new pigs into the garden. And since it was my day to pack lunches, get the kids to school, and do the morning barn chores, I couldn’t expect a lot of sleep anyway. So I made the decision to push through for the day—to stay up after the chores were done, make the movable pig pen in the garden, and transfer the pigs to their new, rototilling position.
It’s the kind of decision you make when you know you need to get the greenhouse cleaned out and summer seedlings started in their pellets by February 22nd (2nd quarter moon in Cancer) and the kidding barn back to kidding use by March 9th (Brianna’s and Vixen’s due dates). Time waits for no woman, not even a tired one. And a pig pen in the kidding barn takes no time at all to get stinky and messy. Never mind that if much more time passed, the piglets would have successfully dug under the barn wall into the backyard. Where the puppies were simultaneously trying to dig under into the barn. That was not a meeting I intended to let happen. Not unless I had time to make another natural-garden-tilling plan after carrying out two piggy funerals.
It’s also the kind of decision you make when the caffeine hits. Because as everyone knows, when…
Caffeine is my shepherd; I shall not doze.
It maketh me to wake in green pastures:
It leadeth me beyond the sleeping masses.
It restoreth my buzz:
It leadeth me in the paths of consciousness for its name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of addiction,
I will fear no Equal:
For thou art with me; thy cream and thy sugar they comfort me.
Thou preparest a carafe before me in the presence of The Starbucks:
Thou anointest my day with pep; my mug runneth over.
Surely richness and taste shall follow me all the days of my life:
And I will dwell in the House of Mochas forever.
That’s a cute poem, but I didn’t write it. No one knows who wrote it. I’m betting they forgot to sign their name before dashing off to the millions of other things the caffeine buzz inspired in them. ‘Cause there’s nothing like a good cup of coffee (or 2) (or 3) (or however many that carafe makes and we all know it isn’t 12 unless you’re using shot glasses) to make all things seem possible.
And, as it turns out, the movable pig pen wasn’t that hard. The Other Half had already stacked several 16’ cattle panels by the garden for me. I put in some leftover T-posts and garden stakes on either side of the raised bed and attached the cattle panels. Then I attached another cattle panel on one end and some short sided sections of a metal dog crate on the opposite end. I wanted a low side that could be stepped over so I didn’t have to go in and out a gate. I zip tied everything in place. Then I used a folded tarp that was just sitting on the roof of the chicken tractor (and even had bungee cords still attached because I am lazy brilliant like that!) to make a sheltered area they could hang out in if they needed shade or if it was raining. Reasonably cheap, just sturdy enough for piglets, and constructed in under an hour. I figured cutting the zip ties and moving the posts was all that was needed to put it in a new spot.
The Universe Has Spoken.
Posted on | February 18, 2013 | 5 Comments
It’s that time again. Grass has sprung up in the garden.
The last couple “wintry mix” events have left a lot of the lettuce, radish, and other greens in the garden burned and curdled.
Of course, the ice and snow hasn’t stopped the henbit, chickweed, and purple dead nettle from squeezing out the crops that are surviving.
As the days warm and the soil dries, someone needs to be down in the garden, turning over the raised beds, re-edging the rows, and yanking up weeds before they get a death grip. Read more
Testing, 1, 2, 3….
Posted on | February 11, 2013 | 5 Comments
It’s hard to maintain the status quo on a farm. We’re always trying something. Changing something. Testing something. And that’s just us. The animals have their own agendas, too.
This week we decided to start milking Charlotte. I usually wait 3 weeks after kidding before milking a doe. But Cassie was only nursing off one teat so I was having to express milk out of the unused side each night anyway. Figured I might as well put Charlotte on the stand and get her used to the process. Her first milking test went well. Oh, there were some rookie mistakes. Like poor head placement in the stanchion.
Meet Your Meat.
Posted on | February 8, 2013 | 9 Comments
I realize heritage chicken breeds are all the rage in farming. Which is completely reasonable. The majority of heritage breeds are excellent dual purpose chickens, raised for egg production and for meat. My first hens were black Plymouth Rocks given to me by the uncle of a friend. Their history goes back to the 1800’s, they were a mainstay on American farms, and they still are today.
My hens lived in a movable chicken tractor. Which was big enough for a flock of 4 but small enough for the children to be assigned cleaning duty when their (mis)behavior demanded it.
First On Base.
Posted on | February 6, 2013 | 8 Comments
I finally put my foot down last fall. And I told Charlotte that if she did not freshen this year then she was going to a pet home. Charlotte has been with us for 2 1/2 years but she has never freshened. Despite being bred in both fall and spring. Despite being left with the bucks for 2 and 3 months at a time. I reminded her that we are in the business of dairy goats, not pet goats.
Charlotte didn’t say anything, but I think she was questioning the whole business thing. I mean, can you call it a business when you refuse to sell the milk because you want it all for yourself and you are always giving away baby goats to friends? That kind of activity seems to scream “EXPENSIVE HOBBY,” at least according to the tax definition. She appeared to be full of skepticism.
My People Are Everywhere.
Posted on | February 3, 2013 | 5 Comments
Had to leave a family member in the hospital overnight for observation. Everything should be OK but the doctors wanted to be sure. As we headed upstairs from the emergency room, I scrutinized the floor we were assigned. No nurses were running around frantic and overwhelmed, no patients were stumbling around the halls desperately searching for a glass of water or a blanket.
When we got our room, I watched the nurse carefully. She seemed friendly and competent. She listened politely while we explained we had missed dinner while in the ER and asked if a tray could be sent up, even though it was 10pm. She nodded and then went through her paperwork. I waited and listened to her gathering history as I pretended to read my book. I was surprised when she asked about unusual bruises or scratches.
I looked up and commented, “We have a farm. Sometime we have bruises and scratches we don’t even notice for days and can’t remember where we got them. Why?”
She replied that the hospital takes note of large bruises, scratches, or other injuries that a patient arrives with so that a patient can’t claim later that it happened while in the hospital. I was digesting this information, wondering when we became such a ridiculously litigious society, when she spoke again.
“Did you say you farmed? Do you need any roosters? A bunch of our chicks turned out to be roosters and I’ve got to give those guys away or butcher them. They’re fighting terribly.”
I laughed out loud, thinking of our roosters that were safely crated already and waiting to be butchered after church.
“Nope. We’re full up on roosters.” I said.
Then the meal tray arrived. And I picked up my book, gave a kiss tonight, and headed home to get to some sleep before coming back to talk to the doctor in the morning. I knew we were in good hands.
Because my people are everywhere.
Everywhere, I tell ya.
Thank goodness.
I Have A Dream.
Posted on | February 2, 2013 | 4 Comments
And it involves gallery wrapped canvas prints. Last year when I was decorating the den I ordered 3 canvas prints of my favorite beach photos. I was very happy with them and they went perfectly with the beach decor.
But they were expensive. Especially considering how small they were. We’re not going to discuss how expensive they were because The Other Half subscribes to this blog (Other Half: Please note that I did use a Groupon.). But ever since I got them I have dreamed of having some very large gallery wrapped canvas prints to hang downstairs on the family room walls. I want the prints to be pictures of the trees surrounding the house in various seasons. Most of our property is wooded, hence the name Woodland Pond farm, and the trees form the background of our lives. So why not the background of our living space? Read more
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