13 July, 2016

I’ve been putting off writing this post

Not long after lambing season kicked off, our regular hay guy ran out of hay. No big deal, I thought, we’d just use another supplier to get us through the couple of months until his first cutting was ready. I found someone else who could deliver round bales and thought my hay problems were solved.

And then sheep started dying. I looked for parasites, I looked for subclinical illness, I wracked my brain and laid awake at night going over every detail and came up with nothing. Sheep kept dying. I dreaded doing the chores because I didn’t want to find another one down.

Finally in desperation I sent hay samples out for testing. It was the only thing that has changed. And changed it had. Results came back showing levels of copper much, much too high for sheep. The lab said the overall profile of heavy metals etc was common for hay fields that had been treated with biosolids – aka dried sewage. The hay from those fields is fine for cows but lethal for sheep. I hadn’t even thought to ask when buying the hay, and as a result of my mistake I lost two Soay ewes and their lambs plus my little Rambouillet wether.

I’m still grieving my sheep. I hate that when I make mistakes, it’s my animals who pay, sometimes with their lives. The only recourse in this matter I might have is small claims court but that’s a roll of the dice and I don’t have the time or energy to pursue it. I did leave the guy a message telling him not to sell hay to shepherds anymore.

The happy ending is that my regular hay guy had a fabulous first cut after a wet spring, and with healthy hay, summer grazing, a protein tub, and slightly increased grain rations the rest of the sheep are recovering beautifully. The goats thrived, their mineral needs are more similar to cattle than sheep and they require amounts of copper that will kill their ovine cousins (I normally provide it via rumen bolus).

25 January, 2016

We interrupt this blog for TOO MUCH SNOW

Like most of the mid-Atlantic, we got hammered by a prolonged misery of snow this past weekend.

A tall bay goat with spots stands in snow just below his elbows. A golden sheep with black trim is nearby, the snow up to her chest. In the background a small black and white goat stands with snow halfway up his sides. Just behind him a group of sheep stands in a spot that's been trampled down.
For reference, Sebastian there on the far left is just over three feet tall at the shoulder.

We didn’t get as much snow as they were predicting, thanks be to whoever watches over the Piedmont and steered the storm east. The sheep are doing a great job keeping paths trampled down so that the pigs and baby goats and Ben and Stu can get to the hay bale, and we moved water and grain dishes into the trampled down area so everyone can eat. Sebastian just got kind of excited to see us Saturday morning and came charging out through the snow.

The guinea hogs got up to eat and drink and then burrowed back into their generous pile of straw. I’m so glad we moved them into the pen that formerly held geese, their old enclosure is under enough snow that it would have buried them.

And in the shed, the rabbit kits are fat and happy and warm, as are the adult rabbits. There’s seven in the New Zealand doe’s nest and five or six in the Silver Fox nest. I think there’s at least two blue, one black, and one chocolate Silver Fox, a nice mix. Maybe there’s even an elusive lilac lurking in there? I’ll have to get pictures now that they’re fuzzy and attractive and their eyes are starting to open.

The power stayed on throughout the storm, mostly because it never got as warm as predicted and thus the snow stayed light and powdery. You will almost never hear me say “thank God it stayed below freezing” but…here you go. We had the chimney nice and clean so the wood stove was ready to go, but since we didn’t need it for emergency heat I plan to fire that sucker up and make the living room hold a temporary summer for me.

Hopefully my east coast readers had a similarly easy blizzard! How did y’all do if the storm got you?

5 January, 2016

Winter finally remembered us

I should have known when May gave us surprise kids that the weather was going to turn. Goats are infamous for kidding at the worst possible time and sure enough no sooner did she present us with her two adorable doelings than we’re suddenly having actually seasonally appropriate weather. This after spending Christmas Day running around outside in a t-shirt for the novelty of it!

Not that it’s actually been cold enough to freeze the waterlogged ground good and solid. May and her twins are still confined to a stall because the mud is four inches deep in places and I’m afraid the babies would get stuck in it like tiny unfortunate mammoths in a tar pit. Meanwhile I’m battling hoof rot with every goat except Ben and Stu (Nubian blood does goats no favors in the hoof department) and keeping a close eye on the sheep. I gotta love the Soays though, they’re charging through winter fat and happy with nary a limp, cough, or sneeze. The only change in their behavior has been a shift from hanging out in the shade to hanging out in the sun when the temperature plunged. These ridiculously hardy little sheep are a real delight.

Meanwhile the place is so much quieter with the Christmas geese gone. Ours was incredibly delicious. I told Daniel that it was the first time I’d eaten a food I only knew from Victorian novels and not been tragically disappointed! In fact we enjoyed it so much that we’ll be raising geese again. Their obnoxiousness is completely outweighed by their deliciousness, so there will be geese honking and hissing their way through the spring, summer, and fall again.

Alas for me, the sudden turn of the weather has aggravated my chronic pain issues and I’m spending more time huddled under my electric blanket and taking painkillers. Still, a hard freeze or ten (or twenty, or thirty) is what we need to reduce parasite burdens in the pastures, fleas and ticks in the dog yard, and hopefully let the black cohosh seeds I planted germinate.

Inside, dreaming of summer continues. The first sweet potato slip got big enough to come off the potato and go in a jar of water to develop roots, and there’s 5 or 6 more working on it. Those sweet potatoes will make an excellent accompaniment to the goose next Christmas.

2 January, 2016

The best laid plans of mice and men…

Alas, this is not a post to show off my beautiful new ewes! Unfortunately both Kate-with-Soays and I have come down with some kind of terrible stuffy-nosed plague, and thus the beautiful new ewes will not arrive until next weekend, when I am hopefully feeling well enough to enjoy them.

Meanwhile, most of you are probably aware by now that May presented me with a pair of surprise doelings, Sugar and Spice. After doing the math I figured out that she somehow managed a liaison with Sanglant a mere 4 days before he was wethered. Sigh. Goats will find a way, I guess. May was supposed to be retired from breeding ever again but apparently she had other ideas about it. Still, they’re freakin adorable and I promise as soon as I can handle the html there will be pictures.

16 November, 2015

Winter makes you laugh a little slower…

I’ve been remiss in blogging as winter settles in here in the piedmont. Part of that is starting on the hard part of work with my shrink and desensitizing myself to all the terrible memories I brought home from the war in the hopes of achieving something more like sanity. It’s tiring. Part of it is that, well, fall and winter don’t bring a heck of a lot of news, especially when compared to the dramas of spring and summer.

Still, there’s a few noteworthy things going on! For instance, we have Mr Piggy Bank the teeny tiny boar and Maggie the tiny pig staying. They may end up being here forever, or may go home if their previous person gets her fences pig-proofed. Whichever way it goes, they are delightful to have around, and also adorable.

Two small pigs cuddling in the sun. Closest to the camera is the tiny boar, who is about 10 inches tall standing, or half the size of the sow. He's golden with black spots, she is white with black spots.

The sheep are all getting woolier every day. I give them little pep talks about growing nice fleeces. Most interestingly, Jane the Soay ewe is growing in her fleece with a substantial amount of white sprinkled in it, like roaning on a horse or goat, so yarn spun from her wool will be naturally heathered.

There’s even a little excitement in the vegetable world. While the einkorn wheat has gone dormant for the winter, the pregnant onions that I’m getting established into a permanent onion patch are still growing like the blazes.

Onion tops ranging between two and six inches tall growing in thick, enthusiastic clumps.

I broke off the tips of some of the tallest greens for us to taste and they’re amazing, sweet and spicy and flavorful. I can’t wait to actually try a couple onions next summer, although large harvests will have to wait a while unless the onions go really nuts. Pregnant onions are an old, old variety grown before the advent of easy to purchase seeds. The large onions will spawn young onions, which will grow into large onions the next year and split off into their own children. They can be harvested at either stage, as long as you leave enough in the ground to propagate.

The garlic got planted a couple months later than onions, but is coming up anyway in its bed of composted rabbit manure.

Small, thick green shoots poking up through what looks like dark fine soil with a few recognizable globes of poo.

This is nothing fancy, just the California Early Soft Neck garlic you find in grocery stores. In fact, it’s cloves from a grocery store bulb, as I thought I should experiment with cheap garlic before I try growing one of the more fiddly heritage varieties. Still, freshness makes a serious difference, and a bulb of garlic dug five minutes ago has a far superior flavor to one that’s been stored, as we learned after managing to grow one bulb on our first try. As it turns out, the feed store was setting us up for failure selling seed garlic in spring. This really is a fall-planted crop, and in summer will be adding its deliciousness to home-cooked meals.

Things I don’t have pictures of include the expanded rabbitry. The colony is a no-go right now, having had ducks move in this past summer (long story, but not on purpose). Duck feces in the soil are not compatible with successfully raising litters of rabbits, so right now I’m working with a standard caged system and working on building tractors so rabbits can move around more and do a little grazing while the colony gets dug out and planted and rested in the hopes that I can return rabbits to it in spring or summer. Meanwhile two of my friends hooked me up with breeding stock, and there will be purebred Silver Foxes for pelts and meat starting this winter. Which means I need to get on tanning the hides I’ve already accumulated!

Meanwhile of course, late fall/early winter Virginia means the weather is all over the place and my mysterious chronic pain condition and migraines are complaining about it. I spend a lot of time sitting in the sun with the goats and sheep and pigs, soaking up the last of the warmth and enjoying my little peaceable kingdom.

20 October, 2015

Let me just wax lyrical for a bit…

Sometimes, at night, I go sit outside and look at my sheep. I generally take a length of acrylic fleece to use as a shepherd’s plaid what with I haven’t had the chance to make one from my sheep. Maybe in 2017. There is something magical about nights at the onset of winter here in the Piedmont, when the cold breaks the hazy humidity of summer. There’s so many stars in the sky, and if I trouble myself to go out back of the barn on a moonless night where the glare from our “safety light” doesn’t reach, I can see the Milky Way.

Anyway. I sit, wrapped in my fleece, and I watch my sheep sleep with Xita beside me. It’s magical. Times like that, you can almost feel a kinship with pre-industrial shepherds. Indeed, when it’s just the Soays out sleeping next to the hay bale, I can almost feel the first Neolithic shepherds beside me. THey’d probably appreciate modern touches like acrylic fleece and my very fine German Shepherd. Some things have changed very little over the millenia, and shepherds and farmers appreciate a good dog and warm, durable fabric.

It’s on nights like that as much as on slaughter days that I remember why I have animals, why I eat the meat they produce and take their manure to grow vegetables. It’s a very fundamental connection to the land and to the past that nourishes the soul along with the body.

9 October, 2015

Where there is love there is life.

A happy anniversary today to me and Mr Goat Lady! He left home, country, family, friends, and the National Health Service to come spend the rest of his life with me.

We’ve had a hell of a ride, and here’s to the best accomplice I could wish for!

A man with long dark hair and a beard wearing a baseball cap and T-shirt bends down to tickle the chins of two tiny goats who gaze up at him worshipfully.

The same man wailing away from the camera, attended by the entire herd of goats and sheep.

2 October, 2015

And the Windows of heaven were opened.

I’m late blogging today courtesy of a combination of an unnamed monsoon followed by the outer edges of Hurricane Joaquin.

A black rubber two quart feed pan full of water. Tethys the pig side eyes it.
The monsoon filled two quart feed pans in just a couple hours.

The heavy storm a few nights ago means Joaquin is dumping water on ground already saturated. In many areas of my pasture that’s not much of a problem, since pigs and plant roots have created enough soil permeability to allow drainage. In other areas, however, there are pools of liquid mud just waiting to try to suck my boots off. It’s not fun.

Hurricane prep also required us to get the grain out of the feed stall and into the shed so we could open both stalls up for the goats, sheep, and pigs to shelter in. Having both stalls open ensures that large pushy animals like Queen May and Sanglant can’t keep the smaller, more retiring animals out of the barn. The rabbit colony needed a new roof and a wall on the east side, and the piglets needed their house moved and stuffed with straw so they could stay warm and dry.

In the middle of all this the goats broke into the feed stall before it was prepped and ate approximately 25 pounds of grain, leading to horrifying diarrhea and the early attempts at exploration by the juvenile poultry who’d been living happily in that stall.

Never a dull moment, especially where goats are concerned. So the ruminants are on a hay-only diet for a couple days while hurricane Joaquin brings cold, wind, and wet. In the house, we’ve filled water containers and located flashlights and batteries. Now we just wait to see whether or not the power will stay on until Tuesday, when current weather predictions show the last of the storm leaving our area and the sun returning for the first time in a week and a half.

30 September, 2015

Things I do when I’m not farming: knitting

Mostly I’m putting this here as a blog post in the hope that it will inspire a vague sense of accountability and I’ll actually finish this thing. You see, I’m one of those knitters who’s really good at starting projects but really terrible at finishing them, which leads to a certain accumulation of forlorn unfinished objects.

My latest project is a shawl, from the “A Handsome Triangle” pattern in Victorian Lace Today. Except that I hate knitting with lace weight yarn, aka “thread” and also shawls knit with tiny yarn are very pretty but basically useless for staying warm. So instead I’m knitting it from heathered brown wool, in fact Fisherman’s Wool from Lion. It won’t win awards for the delicate beauty of the stitches and pattern, but it will be a durable, warm, functional garment. The lace pattern is a little too fancy for me to call it Shaker-esque in its simple, functional beauty. But my preference is definitely for items of clothing that prioritize durability and functionality over, say, the ability to pull the whole thing through a woman’s wedding ring. Much like my beloved Soay sheep, this is a shawl meant to endure and be good at its intended function rather than being flashy and high-maintenance.

Oh wait, you wanted a picture? Here’s part of one half, all stretched out so you can see the lace pattern.

Dark brown sweater-weight wool, knitted into a pattern reminiscent of over-lapping leaves on a vine.

23 September, 2015

Let’s call this Training Week. Pigs learn fast.

It’s very much fun to be doing actual training with the critters. Pigs learn really fast, and Tethys is eating cookies within touching distance already, so I’ve moved on to teaching her to recognize her name. This is an easy process: I say her name, then I give her a cookie. She’ll probably have it down by this weekend.

The head of a pig, obviously quite close to the camera. She is mostly black with a white stripe on the left side of her neck and another right between her eyes. Since this is the alt text, we'll pretend the picture isn't a little blurry.
Tethys eating a cookie right by my feet!

Janus is taking a little longer learning to approach, but he’s getting there! The difficulty of pigs of course course is that while they’re smart as hell, they’re not naturally inclined to listen to human voices and watch human faces like dogs are. Selective breeding makes an enormous difference in animal behavior, really, and nothing will make that more clear than playing training games.

The Soays present an even bigger conundrum: I’m still looking for an easy reward that they find meaningful. The ewes Lady Jane and Gwendolyn are easy: they want me to go away. So I walk up as close as they’ll let me, stand for a moment, tell them “Mamogion da!” (Good ewes! In Welsh) and then turn and walk away. I’ve successfully halved their flight distance using this and grain. The wethers however are much more human-social, yet not big on cookies.

The back of a little brown sheep's head, showing off the elegant sweep of his black horns. He is eating pelleted grain ration from a black rubber dish and studiously ignoring the animal cracker in the center of the same dish.
Reuben says cookies just aren’t that interesting.

They are enthused about the little bit of sweet feed they get, but it’s really difficult to use that in discrete chunks as a reward. I may end up making little wodges of oats stuck together with molasses and baked dry to try. Even if the sheep don’t eat them, the goats most certainly will, so they won’t go to waste!

Meanwhile Sebastian is learning to target and touch my open hand, which is a necessary first step to teaching him to lead with a halter instead of his current behavior when I try to lead him, which involves bracing his legs and becoming immovable.

A mahogany red goat with black horns, black stripes on his face and white poll, ears, and nose stretches up to touch my my hand with his nose.
Sebastian will target all day if your hand smells of cookies.

Sebastian has really mastered cookie Zen, which means he gets to move on to things like targeting and learning to wear a harness. His half-brother Sanglant is still really struggling with the idea that to get the cookie, you shouldn’t try to get the cookie. Every fiber of Sanglant’s curious and determined goat brain wants to treat my hand like a puzzle toy, but he’s finally beginning to back off and accept that only through patient waiting will cookies come to him.

The one thing I don’t have pics of, because I need to enlist my husband, is teaching Ella the American Blackbelly ewe to do classic obedience healing. She’s been offering it voluntarily for a few months when I have the grain scoop, so I figured why not work on putting it on cue? Hopefully I can get pics in time for Friday’s post!

Older Posts »