Monday, October 25, 2010

Voyeurism: Not Just For The Crazies!

OK. We have a lot of chickens. And by a lot, I mean we're down from our all-time summer high of 75 to a much more manageable 20 laying hens. Which means we have a lot of eggs too. The layers laid more in the summer (more light, better mood, more food, ya know - all the things that would make me happier too), but now that we're entering winter and the days are getting shorter our eggs are kind of in short supply. We only get 12 a day now!
And the average person would say, "My, your cholesterol must be through the roof eating all those eggs!" Well, don't worry - we hatched (he he. Get it? Hatched?) the perfect plan for egg liquidation: A trip to the hardware store, some plywood, paint, ice packs and and a camping cooler and you've got a shanty-town roadside egg store! We started a couple months ago (but, remember? no internet for so, so long...) and I'm totally hooked on the roadside egg stand. I mean, this is better than reality TV. (Well, it has to be since I gave up watching The Bachelorette after Ali chose Roberto instead of the obvious choice Chris from Cape Cod. What was she thinking? Anyway.)
Seriously though, Saturday we wound up with four dozen extra eggs so I put them out about 8:00am and went shopping. And they were all gone when I got back about 12:00! We sold out. Doors closed - out of product. And, get this: people are actually dropping off empty egg cartons now! We have repeat customers! Satisfied, loyal, repeat customers that have to be surveying our house constantly just waiting to pounce on the egg stand! Not once have we had someone take eggs without paying - and people can be trusted to make their own change! We actually put money in the jar to start with so people can make their own change and the system is working!
I can't profile our customers yet, but I have seen this one guy in a small dark car stop for eggs twice now. I'm considering setting up a command post to monitor the purchasing a little closer 'cause, you know, a "sign-in" sheet would just be creepy.
Todd and I both agree there's only one way to address this demand for eggs: We need to buy more chickens!

Monday, July 19, 2010

Taking One For The Team Chicken

Scene: Our house. Saturday morning, 7:30am.

It's no secret Todd likes to sleep in on the weekends. And I am so a morning person. So, early Saturday morning, I get Colt in the backpack and we headed out for some early morning chore duty. We fed the goats, horses and cows and got on the 4-wheeler and headed to the bottom of the field to the broiler "hoop coop." Because, remember? Every good story starts with "I had the baby on my back."

(For those of you not familiar with the hoop coop, it is a 10'x12' tarp covered, domed enclosure that the chickens live in. It has an automatic waterer fed from a five gallon bucket mounted on top and we're able to feed them through a PVC tube which extends outside the coop. We pull the coop on to fresh grass every day.)

I move the coop and realize that, although their 5 gallon bucket is full, there is no water in their automatic waterer. A definite sign of a clog. The reservoir is open on the top, so I figured a leaf dropped in there and covered the 1/2" hole for the tube which feeds the waterer. I climbed up to look. Nothing clogging up there. So, we went in to the coop (remember....10'x12', tarp covered and chocked full of 25 psycho chickens - 5 of which I'm certain are roosters). I unscrewed the tube where the reservoir attached to the waterer and sure enough - no water coming out.

And this is where it gets bad. I'm not sure exactly what possessed me to perform the following action: I stuck the tube in my mouth and started mouth syphoning the chicken water. Before I could really reflect on what a terrible decision that was, a HUGE chunk of slimy nastiness got sucked in to my mouth with a rush of equally terrible, barf-inducing chicken water. It had the consistency of a tapioca pudding ball, didn't taste good at all, and I gauge was about the size of a marble. I retched and retched and couched it out, then barfed a little. Thank goodness I hadn't eaten breakfast yet or that could have been a real mess.... Water was spewing from the line, so I put it back together and water rushed in and all the chickens gathered around for a drink. Nasty. Nasty. Nasty.

Here's what I've learned:

1.Rule #1 when I started studying chemistry: NO MOUTH PIPETTING. This applies to real-world settings as well.
2.Chickens can survive at least a day without water. I'm projecting they could have lived another day without it too.
3.It pays to sleep in on the weekends. And, in case you were wondering: chickens eat barf.

Friday, June 4, 2010

Seriously!

This was the series of events that played out last night:

Arrive home from work, put baby in back pack and head to barn. Turn out goats, which start to meander in the "runway" to the field. Release angry, penned-up donkey who blasts, bucking, towards the field and encounters wayward goats. Donkey kicks goat and runs off. I shepard the (unhurt) goats to the field. Pile chicken feed, bucket of straw and bucket of shavings on 4-wheeler and drive to chicken coop. Hit brakes too hard and dump entire contents of straw bucket down my right boot. Remove boot, swear, shake out straw. Step in cow poop with socked foot. Swear again. Open lid to egg-laying box. Turn, pull goat off 4-wheeler. Nesting box lid smashes into my forehead. Swear, rub head and realize I have just rubbed chicken poop on my forehead and into my hair. Swear again. Swear again. Pull goat off 4-wheeler. Pull goat off 4-wheeler. Open nesting box, chicken jumps out. Cow chases chicken (in futile attempt to squash it) into neighbor's yard. Smash fingers in lid. Swear. Collect eggs, refurbish nesting boxes.

Enter coop to feed chickens. 10 escape, goat runs in and eats chicken food. Pull goat out. Comes back in. Pull goat out, comes back in. More chickens escape. Herd all but six chickens in. Pull goat off 4-wheeler. Fill chicken water and spill ~2 gallons into my other boot.

Return to house where all six chickens have destroyed my herb garden. Chase chickens. Repeat chase. Give up and vow to re-plant herb garden next year. Consider chasing chickens from vegetable garden, but give up and decide to turn on news while preparing baby's dinner. Colt gets a hold of the remote, bites it, and the TV screen goes entirely blue, flashes "No Signal" message over and over.

Attempt to feed Colt. Resulted in full-on meltdown complete with a mashed potato and applesauce facial for baby. Bottle him and off to bed.

Seriously. No more Todd working late..... I am obviously severely under qualified for this farming thing.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Factory Farming by Jo Robinson

As I was surfing the net about pastured or grass fed animals, I came across this website called eatwild.  It is a good resource for information we could use to help market our products.  Here is part of an article that I found interesting about Factory Farming.

Virtually all the meat, eggs, and dairy products that you find in the supermarket come from animals raised in confinement in large facilities called CAFOs or “Confined Animal Feeding Operations.” These highly mechanized operations provide a year-round supply of food at a reasonable price. Although the food is cheap and convenient, there is growing recognition that factory farming creates a host of problems, including

• Animal stress and abuse
• Air, land, and water pollution
• The unnecessary use of hormones, antibiotics, and other drugs
• Low-paid, stressful farm work
• The loss of small family farms
• Food with less nutritional value

Unnatural Diets. Animals raised in factory farms are given diets designed to boost their productivity and lower costs. The main ingredients are genetically modified grain and soy that are kept at artificially low prices by government subsidies. To further cut costs, the feed may also contain “by-product feedstuff” such as municipal garbage, stale pastry, chicken feathers, and candy. Until 1997, U.S. cattle were also being fed meat that had been trimmed from other cattle, in effect turning herbivores into carnivores. This unnatural practice is believed to be the underlying cause of BSE or “mad cow disease.”

Animal Stress. A high-grain diet can cause physical problems for ruminants—cud-chewing animals such as cattle, dairy cows, goats, bison, and sheep. Ruminants are designed to eat fibrous grasses, plants, and shrubs—not starchy, low-fiber grain. When they are switched from pasture to grain, they can become afflicted with a number of disorders, including a common but painful condition called “subacute acidosis.” Cattle with subacute acidosis kick at their bellies, go off their feed, and eat dirt. To prevent more serious and sometimes fatal reactions, the animals are given chemical additives along with a constant, low-level dose of antibiotics. Some of these antibiotics are the same ones used in human medicine. When medications are overused in the feedlots, bacteria become resistant to them. When people become infected with these new, disease-resistant bacteria, there are fewer medications available to treat them.

Caged Pigs, Chickens, Ducks and Geese. Most of the nation’s chickens, turkeys, and pigs are also being raised in confinement. Typically, they suffer an even worse fate than the grazing animals. Tightly packed into cages, sheds, or pens, they cannot practice their normal behaviors, such as rooting, grazing, and roosting. Laying hens are crowded into cages that are so small that there is not enough room for all of the birds to sit down at one time. An added insult is that they cannot escape the stench of their own manure. Meat and eggs from these animals are lower in a number of key vitamins and omega-3 fatty acids.

Environmental Degradation. When animals are raised in feedlots or cages, they deposit large amounts of manure in a small amount of space. The manure must be collected and transported away from the area, an expensive proposition. To cut costs, it is dumped as close to the feedlot as possible. As a result, the surrounding soil is overloaded with nutrients, which can cause ground and water pollution. When animals are raised outdoors on pasture, their manure is spread over a wide area of land, making it a welcome source of organic fertilizer, not a “waste management problem.”

Summer is almost here!

Hopefully everyone put their gardens in last week when the ground was dry.  Now it seems we are having a late Spring Storm with lots of rain.  It will help the garden grow so, no complaints here. Our son Colton is growing like a weed. He is 8 months old but he is the size of a 2 year old, at least that is what it feels like carrying him around.

Well, May is almost over and summer is just around the corner. That means we have a lot of work to do around our homes. Gardens are in, and lawns are being mowed.   Here at the Pleasant Valley Farm we are busy  raising meat as well. Fortunately we have room to raise enough meat for our friends and family. This year we are offering chicken, turkey, pork and beef.

Our animals are rotated  through pastures and woods to keep the soil (incredibly) healthy and to keep the animals on fresh forage. This is an ethical way to raise livestock and minimizes our need to medicate them, which helps assure healthy animals. Healthy animals lead to healthy food for our Friends and Family, food which happens to have incredible flavor.

Monday, May 17, 2010

A Little Goat History...

It seems like lately (stemming obviously from the massive amount of goat-related posts) I've been getting the question, "Wait. Now, why did you get goats in the first place?" and I feel compelled to answer this. As if it will somehow validate or rationalize our decision to purchase the goats.

So, Todd works with a lot of Fijian Islanders (in, like, they're from Fiji.). And they, apparently, eat a substantial amount of goat. The good thing is that they like to purchase whole, live goats and prefer to take them to do their own butchering and processing. So, all that is needed is someone with property (do all Fijian Islanders live in town?), a little time, A LOT of patience and perhaps lacking the ability to, oh, I don't know.....say no? Enter Todd and Rikki! The farm-tackling duo with just the right combination of (or, lack of) brains, property, time and patience!
And that, my friends, is how we came to house five of the most wonderful goats placed on this earth. (Do we all sense the sarcasm?)
Oh, did I mention two of them have developed this weird, scaly rash on their noses? I didn't? Hmm. That's weird. Maybe that's because I've spent too much time posting about them escaping to talk about the strange fungal infections they're developing.
Oh, and I was thinking: maybe they (the Fijian Islanders) don't all live in town and lack the means of raising their own goats. Maybe they're just a little smarter than we are.....

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Goat Containment Update

Just what you've all been waiting for - a goat update!

Well, it appears that the substantial fencing improvements have made an impression on the goats. We have had ---- drumroll please ----- FIVE CONSECUTIVE DAYS without a wayward goat.
I know, I know. And you were thinking we'd given up. Not this lean, mean, goat-wrangling machine.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Farm Fun!

So, Tuesday morning I send Todd off to work. I have Tuesdays off and I usually spend it catching up on housework, cleaning, dishes, laundry, organizing, playing with the baby, etc. Usually Todd does all the animal chores in the morning and I tend to the other animal - Colt. However, on Tuesdays we (Colt and I) usually sleep in (until around 6:00am...), have breakfast, coffee (you heard it here first - I'm back on the sauce...) and watch some toons. Tuesdays are also Todd's "free day" because I do all the animal chores after he's left for work.
Instead of sleeping in though, I was up by 5:30 with a lean, mean, housecleaning routine planned for the day. By 7:00 I had: swept, swiffered and mopped the house, unloaded the dishwasher and reloaded it, started two loads of laundry, folded a load, planned my grocery list, eaten breakfast, fed the baby and vacuumed our bedroom. Sweet, huh!? I also had some phone calls to make, but decided to wait until after 8:00am to do that.
So, I head to the barn to start the chores with the baby on my back. First stop: chicken brooders. I notice their heat lamp isn't on and I opened the lid to find the heat lamp blown into a million pieces scattered about the bottom of the brooder. It had literally exploded everywhere. And who knows how long it was out, because all the chickens were shivering! Shards and glass bits were everywhere - in their food, on the floor, in their water. It was terrible. I spent about 30 minutes cleaning that up and installing a new light wondering how many would die from internal bleeding do to glass ingestion. (Chickens aren't the smartest things I've ever met.)
All was well with the horse, donkey and laying hens, so that was a relief. But, when I make it to the goats (remember they're currently housed in the chicken coop) I notice that Ronald (who is not in the coop) is limping around the field. Great. Broken goat. Just what I need. Upon further inspection I notice the rope around his neck (which almost reaches the ground and has a knot at the end) is caught between his two little cloven hooves. He's pulled the rope tight against his toes because it doesn't quite reach the ground when he steps. So, every time he take a step it pulls his head down when he tries to put his foot down. Troublesome, obviously. He's limping around the field doing this head-bob-foot-limpy-thing. I decide (with the baby strapped to my back, obviously..) to wage a one-manned mission to remove the rope from Ronald's neck. (Doesn't every good farm story seem to start with the baby strapped to my back?)
What actually happened was me chasing the poor goat (who wanted absolutely nothing to do with me or my baby) twice around the field as he attempted to trot with his toes hung up on the rope, pulling his head down every time he took a step. I acknowledged the futile mission and went back to the house - leaving Ronald to his own devices, but making a mental note to remind Todd it was imperative we remove the rope.
The rest of the day went as per usual. Kinda. My brother stopped by later that afternoon and was helping me move the chicken coops and repair some fence when he says, "What's Griz got? A rat?" Griz had followed us into the field and found something to gnaw on. All things considered, the rat seemed better than his usual 3-course meal of horse poop, chicken poop and cow poop. However, upon further inspection I made a grizzly discovery. Griz had found and was chewing up the wayward cow-castration byproduct. For those of you unfamiliar with cow castration....let me enlighten you.
Step 1. Catch bull calf.

Step 2. Either a) heavily sedate said bull calf or, b) corner, tie up or otherwise incapacitate the calf.

Step 3. Place large elastic band around their manhood.

Step 4. Release "strapped" calf and allow to wander until banded manhood falls off never to be seen of again.
I'm sure those of you who have been following the blog remember last year's episode of castration and the disaster that ensued. Therefore, we had them banded before purchasing them. This did not, obviously, prevent Griz from finding that little bit of heaven laying around the field.
Absolutely-fricking-disgusting.

Friday, April 30, 2010

New Craigslist Ad...

Four Boer cross goats - free to good home any home.

Owner should possess: maximum security prison decent fencing, the ability to chase them minimum three miles excellent cardiovascular health, complete disregard for your own personal property no nice things stored outdoors, super-patient neighbors (preferably with good cardiovascular health themselves) with decent fencing and unlimited funds to put toward additional fencing materials be prepared for possible fencing improvements.

Goats may be seen wandering our neighborhood Seen by appointment only. You catch, you haul.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Meat Goat Ranching 103: What to do when you have done everything...

Part three of the three part series is not filled with excitement and goat wrestling like I thought it would be. In fact, there has been no goat wrestling since the day we brought them home. The goat-release date set for Saturday did coincide nicely with the garage sale (which, incidentally, was a crappy, rainy weekend to host a garage sale) but there were no extra bodies required. During the week the goats spent confined to the chicken coop Todd introduced them to grain. And this obviously changed their attitude about running away because when they got out (about two minutes after we let them out of the coop...) they were more interested in hunting down the grain bin than fleeing their homeland.


We first sensed they were out because the bleating (that's goat for talking) was a little louder and closer than usual. Upon further inspection it was confirmed that Vanilla-Chocolate (yes Vanilla-Chocolate is her name) had indeed crawled under the fence (without getting shocked!?) and came looking for human companionship. The other goats could tell she was out and each of the three does made a dash for the fence and performed an amazing stomach-slide under the hot wire. Power in numbers! Once all four goats were out they went searching for the grain bin. All Todd had to do was shake the grain and they followed him back into the pasture. Not that they stayed there long, but they were there.

Another trip to the feed store and another hundred dollars and Todd returned with the following:

1.  A 50 foot section of rope.
2.  A brass bell with clip.
3.  A large metal post to tie the rope to and pound into the ground.

(I will say, however, if you are going to tether a goat in the middle of the field it is best to do it far enough away from your other temporary fence so that when the tethered goat does lap after lap around the post they don't completely destroy your temporary fence. Right. Because I spent a considerable amount of time repairing fence after the first tethering experience.)

...and Vanilla Chocolate has met her match. She has not been out since. The goats are allowed to graze (supervised, of course) in the afternoons but V/C has to remain tethered until she gets too big to escape without a serious shock. That, or she gives up trying to get out altogether. Which I don't think is happening anytime soon.

Let's recap goat "aquisition" project::

• Two additional hot lines ran along front of fence.

• Lowering of additional hot lines after goat escape #1.

• Goats live in chicken coop and eat out of the recycling bin. (Its the only "feed" bin we had...)

• Mounding of dirt below gates to avoid goat escape. Shortly followed by realization it was much easier (and cheaper) just to lower the gates. Either way, it didn't work. Followed shortly by goat escape #2.

• Installment of peanut butter covered tin-foil dangly pieces on electric fence. This was to try to get them to lick the peanut butter and shock their face teaching them that the fence is bad. Failed miserably. Either they don't like peanut butter, or they are exceptionally smart.

• Purchase of goat tether. This is labor intensive and has dramatically increased the amount of time I spend repairing existing fence.

• The discussion to perhaps add field fence to our arsenal of weapons took place last night. Sounds expensive, labor intensive and irritating. We were SO not cut out to raise goats.

They are pretty cute, but cute in the would-look-good-on-the-BBQ kinda way. All I know is the first time one of these things gets out and I find it stomping the hood of my car it's a dead goat

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Goat Update...

We are still too afraid to let the goats out of the chicken coop, so Todd has been moving them every day so they're on fresh grass. Every day after work we've been upgrading the fence - as we DO NOT want a repeat escape like last Saturday. We have added additional hot wires to hopefully prevent a breakout. Ronald Weesley (the buck. God I hate that name...) is oh-so-patiently awaiting the release of his girlfriends.


A couple of genius ideas:

1. The goats could shimmy under the (non-electrified) gates. So, night before last Todd and I spent $25 and two hours shoveling dirt under the gates to raise the ground level to the gates before we realized it was much easier (AND FASTER) to just lower the gates. Fricking brilliant.

2. We're having a garage sale this Saturday, which coincides with our planned goat-release day. At any given time there should be extra people around. Extra people, that is, that can chase loose goats. Now that's brilliant!

More to come after the planned release.....

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Meat Goat Ranching 102: What to do when your goats escape

My mom told us when Todd was considering raising goats, "If you can build a fence that'll keep a 14 year old boy in, you can keep in goats." I've not heard a more true statement.

Ronald came out of the trailer pretty easily and started walking around the field like he owned the place. My first impression of him was not good. He was pretty big (for a goat), maybe 150 pounds, had a fu-man-choo mustache 8 inches long, his horns were probably a foot long, flat and layed back towards his neck. He didn't have a collar, but had a rope tied around his neck. And there were all kinds of rope tied up in his horns that made him look gnarly. Plus, he was doing this strutting thing that really didn't impress me. Goat's eyes look hollow and creepy too. That wasn't helping him - neither was the permed bangs that replaced his eyebrows.

The does took some persuasion and the four of them finally came out of the trailer. They were smaller and very pretty. Not too tame and running around like crazy. Ronald Weasley thought they were very pretty and started chasing them around. And that's when I learned a few things about goats:

1.Goats are NOT into arranged marriage. The does didn't want anything to do with freaky permed-bangs weirdo Ronald Weasley.

2.Goats are very flexible.

3.The six months of planning (and many verbal warnings by former goat owners) did NOT prepare us for goat ownership.

4.Goats don't care if you build a fence. They go where they want to.

The trailer arrived at 5:00pm and LITERALLY by 5:08pm the does had escaped from our fence and were wandering (well, running...) around our lawn...headed for the road. All hell broke loose. The buck (luckily) was a little too big to get under the fence, but the does were gone. Todd caught one and drug it back to the field - and then I heard him from the front lawn scream, "NOOoooooOOOO!!" And when I looked around the house I saw the other three goats about a 1/2 mile up our neighbor's driveway - across the road!!

And so began the hour and a half, three mile goat recon mission. Todd, our neighbor girl Annika, the girl two houses down, Savannah, my mom and dad, me (with the baby on my back) and our amazing neighbors (if you're reading this Robbie and Gordy - for reals - you guys rock!) joined in the chase. Everyone took off up the neighbor's driveway on foot armed with several ropes and a can of grain, my dad followed on the 4-wheeler with more rope and Robbie (bless her heart!) showed up with much needed additional fencing supplies and proceeded to build us a goat-proof fence.

The (somewhat angry and not nearly as nice as Robbie and Gordy) neighbor, whose BARN they managed to corner the goats in was totally un-impressed with our goat sheparding skills. There's nothing like six people, a 4-wheeler and three goats burning through your lawn to really say, "Hi there neighbor. Good to meet you!"
An hour and a half later with a more substantial fence and goats in tow, the action calmed down a bit. Not willing to risk them escaping again we locked them up in the only thing we had that was goat proof: our extra chicken coop. So, as of this morning we had four angry goats in a chicken coop and Ronald Weasley circling it, just waiting for them to get out. Goat ranching. A family - scratch that - a neighborhood affair!


Some of the things overheard that night:
"Do you guys have a rifle?"

"Wow. Goats are fast."

"We could have a really big BBQ tonight and invite all the neighbors. I hear goat is pretty good."

"Who's idea was this?"

"Did you read the part about goat fencing?"

"They're gone."

"@#%$^-ing goats"

"God. I hope they weren't expensive."

"Are you getting divorced?"

Monday, April 19, 2010

Meat Goat 101

I'm sure it comes as no surprise to our blog-followers that we would chose to add to our ever-expanding farm family.

Goats. Why not! Todd has methodically and religiously studied volumes upon volumes upon volumes of information regarding the pasturing, feeding, worming, vaccinating of and caring for, goats. After deliberating which ones would kid the easiest (that's goat for give birth), keep the easiest (because, you know, we're naturals at this), eat the least, grow the fastest and be the best for meat, he settled on a Kiko/Boer cross. And, naturally there aren't any located within 500 miles of our house! Todd arranged for a weekend trip to two different farms. From one "farm" he would pick up (I'm not kidding here) "Ronald Weasley", the buck, and from a different "farm" he would pick up the four does (that's goat talk for baby-making machines). The farms were about an hour apart, both located in the opposite corner of our state - a good five hour drive.

In an attempt to "maximize goat intake and minimize travel time", the plan was for Todd to leave our house on Friday after work, drive five hours, get a hotel, get the goats first thing Saturday morning, and drive straight home. That way he'd be home by around 2:00pm. I sometimes wonder what kind of delusional world we live in. (And by we, I mean me.)

I talked to Todd late Friday night and after making a quick gas-stop in Yakima (where he had intended to stay) he continued on because (I kid you not...) the prostitutes and delinquents were really thick in the area where he pulled off. He instead chose to sleep in his truck 100 miles further down a dead end road. Much safer, yes?



Here's what I gathered from "farm #1" (where the does came from):

1.They lived in the middle of nowhere. Literally, he drove down a mountain, across the gulley and up the other mountain. No cars. Anywhere. Gravel? All the way.

2.They were moderately well-kept. Probably could have used a fresh set of clothes and a shower but, all in all? Farmers.

3.Their house? Old - but on a foundation - with a trailer right next to the house.

4.Over 40 more goats in the barn.

Here's what I gathered about "farm #2" (where Ronald Weasley was):
1.It was on the other side of middle of no where. Seriously. He drove for over 40 miles and didn't pass a single car.

2.Goat "ranchers" maybe don't always practice good personal hygiene. For example: this guy could have used a shower, flea dip, hair cut, shave, fingernail brushing, nail clipping and tooth brushing. I can only imagine what a person Todd described as "The Unibomber's Brother" looked like in person. Impolite to ask to take a picture?

3.Goat "ranchers" don't always live in mansions. Todd said it looked like the Unibomber's Brother's "house" was a one-room shanty-town that he was pretty sure was made from pallets. After going inside (only to sign papers, not for fun..) he noticed that the bed was in the kitchen. And on cinder blocks. I guess "breakfast in bed" when you live alone in the middle of nowhere means actually cooking breakfast from bed. Hmm.

4.They had no electricity. Ya know, the stuff they discovered in the 1700s? He would fire up the generator whenever his wife needed to use the internet.

5.No electricity but they have the internet? Interesting, don't you think?

Todd arrived back at our farm at around 5:00 pm on Saturday. Three hours behind schedule, smelling kinda like a trucker. And this is what I could gather from him:

1.Dinner consisted of beef jerky, green tea and spicy habenero chips.

2.He didn't pack a toothbrush. Or deodorant. Or a change of clothes.

3.He hadn't showered, shaved or brushed his teeth.

4.He didn't pack his heart-burn medicine. (Too bad, considering the meal, right?)

5.He hadn't taken his shoes off in at least 24 hours.

6.We seriously underestimated what it would take to raise goats.

All things considered not a bad trip, right? And then he let the goats out of the trailer to explore their new digs. And that's when the shit hit the fan. Stay tuned for all the late-breaking details on goat ranching!

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Lots of Berries This Year!

When we purchased our house in 2008 we were excited to find a decent amount of fruit producing plants around the place. There were two great blueberry bushes and three apple trees. The blueberries were in pretty bad shape (not pruned or fertilized for what looked like a very long time) and the apple trees hadn't been touched the last two years because the house was in foreclosure. I gave the blueberries a heavy pruning and a good fertilizing and our first year we ate and ate off the bushes and froze 10 quart ziplock bags of berries. This year's crop is looking even better as the bushes look amazing after another good pruning.


Our two semi-dwarf apple trees did a great job producing wonderful eating and baking apples, but the huge old Gravenstein tree only produced about 10 apples. The year prior (according to the neighbor) had been even worse for the poor tree. We gave it another heavy pruning this year and we hope to get a better crop of apples off of it. They are delicious apples!!

This year we are trying our hand at raspberries. I loved eating raspberries straight from the vine when I was growing up. We installed a small row of vines we received from a friend that will hopefully produce berries this first year. Yum!!



Mid-spring 2009 we planted four more semi-dwarf fruit trees just beyond the garden. We have a pear, frost peach, italian prune and plum tree. I'm not sure how great the peach will do, but the others are designed for this region and so far this year are covered in blossoms. We had a very warm February (the warmes on record) and a lot of our plants were coaxed out of their dormant state. We are getting some wild weather now (rain, frost, hail, etc.) and hopefully it won't damage the tender blossoms too much.





Hopefully our mason bees weren't too put off by the cold weather and are getting out there to pollinate! We'll have to wait and see.

The Hoop Coop Works!

This week was a big week for our laying hens. They finally graduated from the brooders to their hoop coops! They are just shy of 5 weeks and are quite a bit bigger than when they came home. Most of their chick "fluff" has been replaced with realy feathers. They still have a little fluff on their necks and although they're outside, we are still keeping the lights on them at night.

We had a little bit of work left to complete on the coop before it was ready for the birds. The tarp, which proved to be an engineering feat, was the last thing to go on. We couldn't decide how to lash it down, or whether or not we should use more than one tarp. We chose to go with just one tarp and leave the very front end exposed. We will totally enclose the coop this fall in preparation for the winter, but for now seems to be working just fine with one end exposed. We used small pieces of trim screwed through the tarp on the bottom and back. We used some Gorilla Glue to tape the tarp down below the nesting box hinge so water doesn't drip on the ladies while they're in the roosting boxes. The end result looked pretty good!



The Barred Rock hens have gone from almost all black (when we got them) to the traditional black and white flecked. The Buff Orpingtons have remained their original color, but have gotten their adult feathers in.
We chose to move the coop to the garden, which is laying fallow right now. There is a little grass growing in the garden (which will be nice to have the hens eat up) and the chicken manure will be great for the vegetables this year. It's a win-win situation! Plus, it is still close enough to the shop that we can string an extension cord for the lights at night.






It seems during the evenings and nights they huddle up close (to be expected), and during the day they enjoy milling about the coop. For now, they are completely confined to the coop. They have enough room and food.

The automatic waterer is working like a dream! A five gallon bucket sits on top of the coop and feeds the red waterer when it gets low. This keeps a nice, fresh supply of clean water for the birds and is completely low-maintainance.


The dog is very interested in what's going on with the chickens. And maybe not in a good way....?

"Hey Son, Do You Want To Go Pick Up Some Chicks?"


Taken out of contex, perhaps a little disturbing. But, really, we went and picked up our broiler chicks night before last. We have been waiting patiently for them to come in. They were supposed to arrive 5 weeks ago with our order of laying hens. They arrived at the store, but shortly afterwards nearly half of them died. The store called to explain things and said there was a person who only wanted 12 and would take the half order if that was OK with us. I said OK, figuring that if half of them died when they got to the store there was probably something wrong with them anyway. They assured us our order would be filled that week, but have been waiting (somewhat patiently) for nearly 5 weeks now.




It turned out to be perfect timing though because just three days ago we were able to move our laying hens out of the brooders and into their outdoor coops. This alleviated space in the brooders for the new flock. Instead of having two brooders both full with chicks, we're able to leave one empty and when the shavings need changed we just rotate them over to a clean one and clean out the dirty one. It works better I think.
The broiler chicks are adorable! They look like little Easter chicks - yellow colored and tiny! They'll grow quickly I'm sure.


Hey! Look who wants to help feed and water the chicks! I don't think guard dog is what Griz has in mind...

Say Goodbye to the Pigs

As we approached the due date of our first son, Colt, I could think of nothing more appropriate than to bring home three wiener pigs two days before his birth! And that's exactly what Todd did! And, seriously, I think I always harbored a little resentment towards the pigs for that. I mean, there I was: 11 months pregnant (or, at least, that's what it felt like), the size of a house and angry at the world...and I'm supposed to welcome with open arms three more mouths to feed?




Well, as time went on I learned to like the pigs. They were quite friendly and I grew fond of the little black one. (We refuse to name animals we're going to eat, but we affectionately called this one "Boots.") They were playful, made amazing rototillers and found chunks of buried cement, bricks and wire we never knew were there! But, over the winter they got pretty big. And a little stinky. And I started to avoid going in their pen because I was a little worried they'd eat me.




They certainly had their moments. Like the time we tried to move them to the lower wooded area. Having never raised pigs before, we were not prepared for them to refuse to leave their enclosure because they knew up to the inch where the electric fence was. I think we both assumed they'd follow a bucket of grain anywhere. Wrong. Two hours later with the help from a very patient neighbor, we managed to get them moved.




But, when the time came they (sadly) loaded right up in to the trailer with know idea where they were going. And then followed Todd right out of the trailer at the butcher shop. They weighed between ~160 and ~195 each and we're patiently waiting for the meat to be finished! We're getting hams, bacon, chops, ribs, hocks, soup bones and sausage! We're both really excited to taste the finished product.
This was our first time raising pigs and I think a rather successful go at it.

Friday, April 2, 2010

Jump. I Dare You.

Our laying hens (minus one, which we think might be an un-laying hen (also known as a rooster)) are now 4 weeks old and getting a little it seems, restless? I guess I can't blame them: there's nothing like sharing a 5'x5' living space with 23 of your closest friends which includes the kitchen table (two long feeders), the faucet (two self-filling waterers) and one bathroom (the floor) and being totally unable to turn off the lights!! Come to think of it, I would really hate being a baby chicken. The grow light (which keeps them warm until they develop feathers) has to stay on all day and night in order to keep the brooder at the proper temperature.

Now that they're a little older, they're starting to develop grown-up chicken feathers and have recently started the game of "Ooohh...let's perch on top of the water tower so that when she opens the lid she'll be startled. And then, when she reaches for the feeders let's lunge at her hands like we're going to bite!! Hehehehe." Really. I swear they've plotted this plan and ran through it over and over. (What else do you do all night long when you can't get a wink of sleep because no one will turn off the light?)

Anyway, since they've started doing that whole perching on the water tower thing I've just been waiting for one to jump out. And, I'm so NOT in a hurry at 6:00 in the morning that I have time to chase a wayward chicken around the shop for fun, right? Wrong. Well, the other day when I went in there, I moved the lid to access the food and waterers and left it ascew while I filled the waterers. Big mistake. I came back and there was a Buff Orpington perched on the open end of the brooder! I didn't want to make any sudden moves because I just knew she'd jump off and run wildly around the shop. So, there we were: locked in a stare down for nearly a minute while she contemplated the consequences of her actions. I could sense (by the feverishness of their peeping) that the other hens were trying to coax her back down, and my stare said nothing more than, "Jump. I dare you." And I think, after serious deliberation and weighing her consequences, she decided to jump back into the brooder. Or, maybe it was my stare down. Either way I'm staging a fishing net next to the brooder because I think they're on to me.

Friday, March 19, 2010

This Little Piggy Went to the Market

This whole herd of little piggies is going to the market. Soon. Very soon. As per the previous blogs addressing my concerns entering the pig pen, I no longer set foot in there. I did, however, manage to snap some pics of the beasts through the electric fence. (I did feel a little bad when the sweet little black one came wandering over to sniff me and got too close to the fence, got shocked and took off squealing. Little, tiny bit bad.)


They're monsterous! The pics don't do them justice! I bet the big boy weighs at least 250lbs. Maybe more. I hope he doesn't mind that when he turns away Todd and I stare at his rump thinking "Man. That's a good looking ham!"

Here's the little guys the day we brought them home:



...and here's the little hams now:

That's one lean, mean, organic cereal-eating machine!!

Pigs have been very intriging animals to raise. Judging by the above picture you can see they don't really care that they're wallowing in the mud. (Hence the term pig-sty.) The strange thing is that their house is clean. I'm talking immaculate. Not your everyday barnyard shelter. Organized, groomed, set up and...clean. Very strange. And although I find them aggressive and capable of knocking me down and disposing of the body, Todd finds them playful and intellegent. When they were smaller they loved being scratched on the head and ears. (They still do, but secretly I'm afraid to get that close to them.) The love their backs scratched and the oink and grunt when they see us.

I've heard that pigs are the most intelligent animal next to dolphins....and I'm kinda starting to believe it!


"What are you looking at, chump? Come in here and say that to my face."

Monday, March 15, 2010

Coop This!

Todd has been working on building our "hoop coops" for nearly a month now. They're a revolutionary design that allows the chickens to be on fresh grass every night. They are hoop shaped (hence the name), made with rigid square hog panels set on a light weight wooden frame. A tarp covers the hoop shape to provide protection from the weather.

The back end has two wheels mounted to the frame so that when the end with the door is lifted the coop can be wheeled to it's new location with fresh grass. They are totally enclosed and will serve as the chicken's house at night time, while they are allowed to free-range and forage during the day.


The bottom is wrapped in small mesh chicken wire to prevent anything from reaching in a grabbing the chickens.

This is Todd's patented design for their feeding system. It's a 3-inch PVC pipe the runs from outside the coop (near the door), down at a 45 degree angle and then flattens out and runs about 3 feet down the side of the coop. The top of the flat portion is cut out so the chickens can access their food from there. Genius, don't you think? The PVC cap is removable from outside and you just dump a scoop of food down the chute.

This particular hoop coop is designed for our broiler chickens - those are a breed of chicken we will be raising soley for meat. They mature in about 2 months and never lay eggs. We have 25 broiler chicks arriving next weekend and this summer will end up in the freezer.

The other coop is designed exactly like this one, only it has a roosting box with six roosts connected to the backside. It is for the laying hens, which have already arrived and are currently in their "brooders". They'll stay in the brooders under lights (to stay warm) until they are bigger and have feathers to keep them warm.

Cuties, aren't they?

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

...And Our Latest Addition...

Meet Mike.


Mike it the latest addition to our ever-expanding farm family. Because, really, who doesn't need a miniature donkey?

Now, before you go saying, "What in God's name does a person need a miniature donkey for?" let me tell you the story of Mike and then you'll see how you could end up with one too.
So, I always thought miniature donkeys were the stinking cutest things ever. And those who know me well know that I love all things small: animals, imitation fruit (you know, the kind you put in a dish on your coffee table), cars, toys....people. Anyway, I digress....
When I was living in Wyoming there was a couple that advertised "guard donkeys" for sale. I was thinking something that looks over your house, like a guard dog kinda. Todd informed me they probably meant guarding livestock. Whatev. I'm thinking "how cute would that be?" So, I go around saying how I want a miniature guard donkey....and Todd arranges for us to go look at one last week. I keep saying, "I really don't want one. Really. What are we going to do with a donkey? Really?"
However, when we get there I can obviously see he needs a new home. He's in a muddy pen, dirty and wet, with about 10 other miniature animals (now, she's probably a real nutcase, right? Not like me with more of a, um, fascination with all thing miniature). And Mike is being bullied around my these tiny horses. He's so passive, unassuming and patient. Obviously lowest on the food chain.
And then she tells us how she came across Mike. And it was over from there. Mike came to her from her friend, who's neighbor had lost their house. They moved out and left Mike behind without food or water. The neighbor couldn't care for him, so she called her friend with other small animals and he was rescued. The woman we got him from was unable to keep him long-term and needed to re-home him. So, that's the story of Mike. That, and he scares the crap out of my horse and the neighbor's horses. And he likes to bray (that's donkey for winnie) at 5:00am. Oh well.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Pig Herding

...because that's the kind of thing we do for fun around our house. Herd pigs. Herding pigs is kinda what I picture herding cats to be like.
So let me rewind a little for you all....
Remember when we got the pigs? I was about 10 months pregnant (at least if felt like I was 10 months pregnant), 2 days away from giving birth, the size of a house, angry at the world, and, after we'd come to the agreement that two pigs would be nice, he comes home with three. Three wonderful, cute, amusing little piglets that grew into hell-raising hogs.

They have all but destroyed the area behind the barn. Destroyed not like "Hey - it'd be nice to have pigs in there to till up that weedy soil." Destroyed more like, "Wow. Those mountains and valleys of mud and pig poo make it look like the Himalays in our back yard." No doubt we'll be spending most of the summer trying painstakingly to rake it flat again.

Anyway, the time has definately come to move those monsters to the lower part of the field: the part furthest from the house and completely wooded - which is helpful in two ways.

1. It will provide them with endless roots to root at and,

2. From the road you can't even tell we have pigs. Or smell them.

Todd decided arbitrarily to single-handedly move the pigs down field. Kinda like the Pig Whisperer - only different. I watched from the kitchen as he carefully shut all gates leading outside the pasture, donned his mud boots, filled his bucket with hog feed and went at 'em. Opening their gate and releasing the electric fence was not enough to coax them out. He shook and shook and shook that bucket of grain and was only able to get one to follow him anywhere. About 15 minutes later (and one very timid pig) they managed the 100 yard bridge from pasture to woods. However, both other pigs were having nothing to do with leaving their pen. I let him chase them around for a little while, then strapped the baby in the backpack and headed out to help. The neighbor, Gordy, obviously realizing we were in WAY over our heads, offered to help too. So, half an hour later we managed to get the pigs out. Todd shook the grain and Gordy and I chased them with pitch forks and brooms countless times around that pen until we managed to corner them and force them from the pen. Fun, huh? Not as fun as the 100 meter dash from the pen to the woods....

The rest of the herding went off without a hitch but it retrospect it left me wondering (and appreciating!) a few things:

1. Helpful, understanding, non-judgemental neighbors are hard to come by. We are certainly blessed by the fact that we moved in next door to the Harris'. It seems no matter what kind of crazy, mid-night-animal-chasing routine we're up to it doesn't faze them. In fact, they usually have kind words of advise, or, like we witnessed with the pigs: jump in and help. (I don't know if I blogged about the time Todd had to borrow their animal thermometer to take one of the cow's temperature. Rectally. And Gordy offered to help then too...)

2. No matter how hard one tries you CANNOT rope a pig around the neck and lead it. They are barrel shaped and it will always slide off their head. Even in our 30's we are still learning...

3. Despite popular belief pigs do not respond well to "Here piggy, piggy, piggy. Sue-ey. Sue-ey." TV can be so misleading.

4. It is neither easy nor appropriate to perform aforementioned activities with a 4 month old baby strapped to your back. I should have been the one shaking the grain can.

Friday, January 1, 2010

And This Is How I Know The Pigs Would Eat Me If I Fell....

Christmas came late this year at our house. Between shift work (brother), holiday work (me), regular work (other brother) and vacation (other, other brother) we managed to celebrate the Sunday after Christmas. Todd cooked an amazing turkey but there's always the question of what to do with the extra pieces of unidentifiable turkey bits stuffed in the body cavity. We had pulled turkey sandwiches so there wasn't really a need for gravy and, after the last post (see dog barfing many times in night), I wasn't about to feed it to him.


Todd: "Give it to the pigs."
Me: "Really?"
Todd: "Yeah."
Me: "Really?"
Todd: "Yeah."
Me: "Raw?"
Todd: "Yeah."
Me: "Gross."

So, I plopped the bits, blood and all, into the slop bucket and headed to the pig pen. Mmmm. A Christmas dinner fit for kings: rotten veggies, potato peelings and various raw turkey chunks all smothered in steaming hot water. I was getting a little urpy just carrying it to the barn.

I filled their trough up with cereal and hog feed and them came tearing out of their house like it was, well, Christmas dinner. I started to pour the gut water onto the cereal and, just when I was totally convinced (after having barfed a little in my mouth...) they wouldn't eat that crap, they went apeshit. Not the usual "Hey. This is cool. Cereal again." More of the "I'm going to bite your legs off so you can't move and I will feast on this until I am too full to eat anymore."

I cringed a little. Then I looked down just as the fat one grabbed the turkey neck in it's jaws and started gnawing on it like Griz chews sticks. He ran off to the middle of the pen squealing so the others wouldn't hastle him for a bite. Totally disgusting. So, I'm convinced now that they have the taste of blood in them they're man eaters. There's no way I'm going in there. They'd probably look at my calves like they looked at that turkey neck and I'd be dead: pounced on by weiner pigs.

I heard once pigs won't eat licorice flavored ice cream (a little known tidbit of information picked up from the Ben and Jerry's website) but, after the turkey neck incident I seriously doubt that's true. Dude. Raw? Come on.