For The Birds...

For some time now, I've had birds on the brain. They seem to be coming up again and again, so the only way to rid myself if them is to share...

It all began about a month ago, when we had baby mallards in the pool at work. Ten of them, plus momma.

Last year, we moved them by putting the babies in a net, and walking Mom behind as we took the 10-15 block walk to the Washington Park Pond. This year, there was no net, and after a whole day of fruitless ideas, Momma got 6 away safely, but 4 were left.

We found a wildlife rehabilitator who would take them. When we dropped them off at her house, we were treated to a wonderful tour of her recuperating and rescued animals, mostly birds. From kestrals with defective beaks, to an overfed tom turkey, to canada geese with angel wing, to a black-capped chickadee, and a turkey vulture (who threw up her breakfast as soon as we approached - gross, but a cool defensive mechanism).

Then several days later, my friend Melissa sent me an e-mail filled with all sorts of cartoons, and I enjoyed them all, but this one made me chuckle out loud. Can't explain why, it just did.

Next, it was the gray catbird that wound up on our office steps, clearly suffering from some sort of injury, likely neurological in nature, as she was disoriented and unable to fly away, sort of off-balance like.

Unfortunately, she had a seizure and died before we could get her to the rehabilitator...I was struck by how fragile and delicate she felt as I put her in the box, compared to the hulking chickens I have become so used to on the farm.

Speaking of chickens, broody-momma-#2 is now ensconced in the maternity ward in the coop...since #1 decided on the 18th day that she had just about enough and she abandoned the nest...

(It's day 18 today, just don't tell her - it's a secret) There's maybe four fertile eggs under there...we've not been successful at chicks so far this year, keep your fingers crossed.

Then there's the resident "odd bird", our little bantam rooster who has to go for a walk every morning and every evening with me and the goats.

He hops up there when the walk is too long, or the grass too dew-ey. He prefers I carry him, but I could never get THAT picture, so you'll have to imagine it. And it was on our walk this morning that I discovered, despite my belief that I fed the local birds more than half the seed, our winter wheat is here! (And looking SO wheaty...)

Yarn Harlot!

Many of you may not know, because it's not something I bring up on here often, but I knit. I love to knit. I am currently embroiled in an insane tribute to knitting known as the 52 Pair Plunge where I and 90-some-odd other knitters try to knit a pair a week for 52 weeks (yeah, I know...I didn't think it all out before I pushed the send button on the sign-up e-mail...) So, when the call came many weeks ago to sign up to see the Yarn Harlot speak in Northampton, I jumped in with both feet.

It was amazing! I was awestruck by the theater filled to overflowing with something over 600 folks, all knitting. And we all were entertained by Ms. Pearl-McPhee (of course) and she inspired us to "come out" as knitters, and to love our stash, so here it is.

I knit.

I own lots of yarn, known to us knitters as "stash".

I also own sheep, which I consider simply an extension of stash, known as "yarn on the hoof".

And I now own a signed copy of Stephanie's latest book:

And Allison and I even brought her a skein of our yarn to add to her stash. I couldn't tell if she was more impressed with the dedicated colorway, or the fact that we printed the label with the yardage in meters. (That should really be "meterage", shouldn't it?)

Now, if only sheep and chickens could read, they'd understand where Mommy was last night until VERY late....

We've got plants!

It's the moment we've been waiting for... plants in the garden. Finally, after nursing seeds and seedlings, and trying to find the time to pull it all together, we have stuff in the garden.Radishes, for starters. No wonder they're recommended for children's gardens, they're up in three or four days...great for those of us with short attention spans.

The garlic is going great - weedy, but no scapes yet. (Hey-weeds are plants, too)

Now we had lots of cucumber babies...has anyone seen the cucumbers?

Who us? We haven't seen any (*burp*) cucmbers...

And in the 1700's garden, the first plant for the medicinal bed is bloodroot. An early remedy for menstrual cramps, this Eastern Woodland plant is also a dye plant. I bought one at a garden club plant sale, and lo and behold, when mowing the camp lawn this weekend, I found another! literally right in front of me...

I'm going to keep this one here, and now that I know camp is the right environment, I'm going to hike around and look for more...

And also this weekend: potatoes (2nd round), raspberries, lettuce, beans, and Madison's garden is in....

Look out summer, here we come!

Tagged

We interrupt our scheduled program to bring you this commercial message:
I've been tagged.

Lauren, has passed along the "blessing" with the disclaimer that I do not have to participate if I don't want, but I am anal about finishing these kinds of requests, so off I go. The assignment: five random facts about myself.

Now the challenge is, I don't have five interesting facts about myself. I wondered myself to sleep last night trying to think of what they might be. Really. Sure, I can talk my fool head off to anybody, including the strange guy in the line at the market, but as far as offering tidbits that others would find interesting.....duh....I dunno?

Hmmm...OK...here goes.

1. My dream job would be to run my little farm and somehow make enough money to exist pretty much as we do. I suppose that would mean organic vegetable prices would have to go up, and there would have to be a keen market for registered Shetlands and Pygoras, and the like, but hey, that's why it's call a "dream" job...

2. My favorite book(s) that I wish were real and I would like to be in: Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series. If not for all the adventure and good sex, at least for the reunion in the print shop. Love that moment.

3. Of all the famous people in the world (none of whom I have met, BTW) I would like to meet the Dalai Lama. Just want to ask him tons of questions...

4. I collect (although not as passionately as in my youth) glass insulators. You know, the typically blue/green thingys on top of telephone poles (usually ceramic these days) I have close to 75 different ones, and have most of them displayed in our dining room.

5. I give up. You guys will have to ask me what you want to know for the last one...

Oh yeah, and since I don't know five other people with blogs that haven't already been tagged (most of my friends and associates don't even know what a blog is, or what to do with it...) this one will have to end here. Sorry cyber-world.

This n' That

Saturday we went to my alma mater, far above Cayuga's waters, and had a 4-H Fun day. Woo-hoo!

I am planning a dastardly, motherly, not-too subtle attack on my daughter's plans to go to college anywhere other than here by starting early, and showing her all the neat things on campus (excluding the establishments that feature malt beverages, of course) so we lept at the opportunity to visit the vet school and do cool animal things...
Here the kids are attending a seminar on Communicating With Your Dog. (One might surmise by the fact that the dog is facing away from the kids that they failed this course, but the Schnauzer was so damn fast he followed the chosen command and got back to his mistress for the reward snack faster than I could snap the camera...)

This was followed by Rescue Dogs, and Canine Agility, and Travelling with Your Dog, and more stuff I've forgotten...

All in all, a very nice start to my plan. She had a ball.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, every animal that had a cage escaped it, every animal that has a fence found a way around it, and every animal that has any propensity whatsoever to bite, did so to some tender part of my husband. Needless to say, he was not thrilled with farm life when we returned.

Chief chomper:

The bantam rooster, Speedy. (A Mille Fleur/Splash Cochin cross, for anyone who's interested...)


He is 1 and 1/2 pounds, (thinks he's 40 pounds), and latches on to the leg of anyone else but me like a crazed terrier. I'm not sure what he's defending, but he sure acts like its something good.

For me, he lives in with the Pygoras, and comes on walks with us twice a day. Ambling along as nice as you please, grazing just like they do. Chirping the whole time. And the goats seem to accept him as part of the herd. He was an incubating "experiment", when (without much thought as to the outcome), we let our daughter incubate a fertilized egg.

We are trying to be a little more thoughtful this time...


Our Red Cochin hen, Sandy, went broody on us and was actually stealing eggs to sit on. So we got a hold of two Ameracauna eggs (we have an Ameracauna rooster) and gave her those. Along with two Buff Brahma Bantam eggs, which we are only guessing are fertile...

I had to give her a maternity ward of sorts, away from other pestering hens, and here she sits on Day 17. Or 18, we're a little unsure...

Now the "ward" is complete with private room, a view, fresh food and water via daily room service, and must be pretty good digs in the chicken world, 'cause when I went out this morning, two other hens are holed up in the laying boxes, refusing to move, and squawking something about, "Just what does a hen have to do to get some service in here?"

Next post: We have plants!

Has it been that long?

Shame on me! I get so wrapped up in jobs around the farm, and I forget to keep my blog family up to date...

Well, Madison has made real gains with Max, the abandoned kitty. As you can see, he trusts us enough now to eat from a bowl, and he has earned a bed on the front porch, toy included...

We've started with a flea/tick collar, to get him used to that, and to help him with the bugs. I've pulled four ticks off him already, but none since the collar. We can make it a "real" collar if he stays through the summer...

The sheep are on pasture full time. Here they are down by the pond, Hattie (center) and her first twins, Jack and Victoria. All camera hams.

The electronet gets moved several times a day to keep the sheep mowing, and tummies full. And Hattie has dandelion duty - she cruises the lawn and nibbles the yellow flowers off in each new section.

(Wonder what they taste like? Lemon? )

And, we are lighter on the rooster load by one. Ewok, the Ameracuana with attitude, found a new owner at the Fairgrounds Tailgate Poultry sale.

But we are up on the fence count...this one is totally decorative.

Flowers to come...

Sunny Monday

I know, it's past Monday, but I have to tell you, it WAS sunny, and we played hookey from all our urban responsibilities...to stay on the farm. I've simply been catching up, and had no time to post!

Monday was MY day to hang with the sheep on the front lawn - this is my dear Hattie (I can barely remember chasing her for two hours up the mountain in the dead of February in my pajamas...she looks like my best friend in the world, no?)

And there were eggs to gather...

And potatoes to plant...and that's when I got into trouble. POISON IVY-(my arch nemesis!) Now I know, it's a hazard of farming. And I know we have plenty of it on the lower lot. And, yes, I know what it looks like, thanks for asking.

But the truth remains, if we don't pull it up, or have the critters eat it, it will continue to exist. (Round Up is out, Mother - organic farm, remember?) So I'm just doing my little part. Besides, there are no leaves to speak of on anything around here, so good luck telling that viney root apart from the other viney roots I was pulling out of the potato patch.

So, yeah, the first (of many) bouts with poison ivy. On my face-all around my left eye and cheek, a smattering on my hands, all across the back of my neck and down the left side, on my right elbow, a stripe across my belly (don't ask - it seems to find it's way there every time...) and on my knees. Yep, despite the spread, it's not a major outbreak. Let's just be thankful it's not on the boobs...this time.

The only comfort - (besides covert scratching when nobody is looking) the DH has it too! No more of that superior "We men of color don't get poison ivy" bullsh**. Hah!

Sunny Sunday

What a gift! Two sunny, beautiful weekend days in a row! Well, you know what that means...

But before chores, there's time for some grazing on the front lawn. (The sheep, not Bill.) Bill is in charge of, what else? Skritches.

"Aaahhh" says Secret.

So there was brush burning, and repairing the firewood shelter, and the mandatory weekend trip to Home Depot for project supplies, and then more chores...

The most interesting chore on the list was goat shearing. The Pygoras needed their coats removed, and this was the day.



Here, Cicero models the new stanchion. (Built from plans in Hobby Farm Magazine) Once Clio realized there was grain involved, she joined in from the front.

Cicero was a pretty good boy, and we got most of the body fleece off in good order. I let the legs, neck and other fleece go, as it was beginning to felt, and I was just hoping to get enough good stuff for me to process, and to get the practice of shearing these guys.

Clio, wasn't bad, but she wasn't perfect either.

See, she has this strange habit of lying down anytime anyone comes near her with shears, clippers, trimmers, thermometers, needles, or medicine. Needless to say, it makes shearing her a challenge. (You should see what the poor girl looks like now!)

Me wonders....what will she be like to milk if we ever breed her? Will her udder be so swollen she wouldn't think of trying to lie down? One can only hope...

Sunny Saturday

A sunny weekend day usually means chores, but we promised ourselves a trip to Hancock Shaker Village, a historic farm/museum/preservation site only 30 minutes drive from our place. It was the last weekend of Baby Animals, and there was sheep shearing...so we couldn't resist!

This round barn is the centerpiece of the farm - it's construction is magnificent! The whole place is awe-inspiring...what beauty there is in the peaceful and thoughtful pursuit of a way of life.

Inside were the baby animals - sheep, pigs, cows, and all sorts. Madison got to help bottle feed a lamb...

There were furniture and woodworking barns...

And we left feeling very satisfied and justified in the lifestyle choices we are making. Everywhere around us were families of all makes and ages, and the one thing that most had in common was their absolute amazement at farm life, and an unsettling ignorance of what the farm is/was all about.

A woman who had no idea what the shearer was doing to the poor ewe, and who was even more clueless as to how that stuff got to be yarn (You only have to do that once for each sheep, right? What?!? Every year? Doesn't that hurt the sheep?) A man who explained to his grandson that the 3-week-old chick, half-feathered and as large as pidgeon, was just hatched. Today. (And as soon as it gets all it's feathers, it will begin to lay an egg every day until it dies.) Another woman who thought maple syrup came right out of the trees, ready to go. (These recipes sound delicious, but who'd want to go to all the effort to cut their trees and get out the syrup? You cook it to get it that way? But, why?) And a man who couldn't tell the difference between a goat and a sheep, despite the big yellow signs that identified all the animals. (You have to look at the back, dear. Those ones with the big bags back there are goats, because that is where goat's milk comes from. And the ones with horns are all sheep. Curly horns are males, straight horns are females.)

We couldn't leave without perusing the gift shop, where DH found edibles, and the midget and I found books, books, and more books. (Gotta haves.)

Back at the ranch by 3:00, and the chores began. Rototilling, mailbox installation, feeding, and moving roosters, and more (pictures tomorrow!)

And we made a new friend.

Or, I should say, Madison made a new friend. This is a feral? cat that has been hanging around since last summer. She/he is sooooo timid, and has a very damaged right ear, and if my eyes don't deceive me, a funny gait with that back left leg. Perhaps abuse? What ever the circumstances, my patient and kind little midget spent all afternoon coaxing it out from under the porch with milk and cat food. She has dubbed "it" Max.

Damp, Dull, Dark, and Dreary - But you asked for it...

I've been asked by everyone, "What's up?" and "When are you posting?" and the truth is, I've been trying to spare you all, but since you asked...

It's been raining, and raining, and raining. And then, raining. Everything is damp. And muddy. Even the chickens. This is Blueberry, a normally fluffy, bright Blue Cochin. (Well, OK, light blue-grey.)

These are the sheep. (Or at least sheep-butts. ) Not anywhere near as interesting as say, lambs. They are dull. At least lately. No shearing excitement, no woman exploring their ewe-terus, no sheep-coated cuteness. Don't get me wrong - I love them dearly. But they do have their high moments and their low...

Today was the last of the maple season. We took in the taps, tubes, tubs, and pails. The sap is cloudy (a sure sign) and the syrup is dark. The earlier in the season, the lighter the syrup. (That's where grading comes in). We produce "kettle" syrup, cooked over an open fire, which is already darker and richer in flavor than commercially produced. But when it's this dark, it's time to wrap up the season. We produced over three gallons of syrup, which translates to something over 120+ gallons of sap collected.

And, well, these are the neighbors. Turkey vultures. Each afternoon they circle the farm, in huge loops; there are over a dozen of them. I was never able to get more than two in the camera lens at one time, circling before they roost in the pines. Even in their red-headed ugliness, they usually evoke a sense of awe as they glide in a blue sky, but this grey is just dreary.

(Sigh)

(Perfect weather to curl up and knit some socks...)

Parsley Perseverance

What a lesson I've learned from parsley. It is one of the hardest damned things to get started from seed... (Isn't that always the way of things?) but look!

That's last year's parsley - coming back! Frankly, we're not zoned for that, madam.

I took that picture yesterday. Here's a view today, from our front porch, looking down on the lower lot where the parsley perseveres:

Can't you see it? Right down there on the left, tucked in the corner of the fenced in area which is the main garden.

Honest. It WAS Spring yesterday. But if the parsely can persevere in this, so can we.

What have I gotten myself into NOW?

There once were 6 bloggers who knit;
And their stashes were causing a fit.
So a game they did play,
To give yarn away,
(Now, whose yarn will YOU git?)

They took turns being Swap host,
Beth, Lauren, Michele all did post.
Now it's my turn, you see
To show yarn to the three
(Who will bid to win what I post?)

(Honestly, sometimes I don't know where it comes from...it just spills out. Sorry.)

Here's the thing - my stash is mostly sock yarn. I can't seem to go anywhere without picking some up. I go nowhere without my DPN's, and have several patterns committed to memory so I can start right up if I find an especially nice skein. That might leave some of you out in the cold, since not every knitter does socks. (To make, I mean. Most wear them at least...) So here's what I'm gonna do:

The fastest bidder, (Stephanie or Anne K. by my count, right?) can choose either a fingering weight or sport weight, hand-dyed skein of 100% merino superwash. That way, if they're really not into socks, it makes a baby sweater, or who knows what. Oh, yeah - 430 yards. That's a skein - enough to make a pair of women's socks. Color? You call it. I'll dye it as close to your request as I can. Like give me some general color guidelines (e.g., "I hate purple", or "Let's try pink, yellow and black together", something like that...)

If you are really unable to think up a color combination on your own, you may cheat and go to our website, and choose from what we have posted so far.

Now, the other reason I am breaking from the true "stash" swap yarn, is to further make up for the fact that I cannot stick to the noon bidding deadline, as I will be sitting in a gymnasium filled with 160+ little karate people and their parents, waiting for my daughter's two minutes of fame. So let's say 6:00 p.m. EST. If I'm not home by that time, then something has gone terribly, terribly wrong and I will have sworn off karate forever.

The good thing - I can knit pretty much uninterrupted for many farm-chore-free hours while we're waiting...

Curse you! Global Warming...

(Warning! Politics ahead!) It rears its ugly head more and more these days. We are screwing with things we don't understand and that are far more powerful than we little gnats..er, humans. I just read an article about the declining production in maple syrup, due in large part to the shortening sap season. But it's a variation of the same article I read last year, and the year before, and the year before that. Do you know commercial syrup operations use pumps to literally suck the sap out of the trees, instead of waiting for it to drip out? All in the name of more and more reliable production.

For us, we take the shortening season in stride, as I can find 700 other projects to busy myself with. But think about this - what if you had to survive on this as your source of sugar for the year? Americans, with our gluttonous need for sweets, would never make it.

But I'm not talking about anything that certain press has not been telling us for ages now. Is anybody listening? According to a report published by the World Wildlife Fund, "For more than 20 years we have exceeded the Earth's ability to support a consumptive lifestyle that is unsustainable..." this is due in large part to Americans (and other "modern" countries' ) huge per capita emissions of carbon dioxide.

But here's a thought: Cuba is the only country in the world that has a high level of development, including good health and education systems, and does not use up more resources than is sustainable. Hmmmm.....

Sap log:

Wednesday-10 and 1/2 gallons
Thursday-18 gallons
Friday-19 gallons
Saturday/Sunday-12 gallons (warmer temperatures, sigh....)

Spring Rituals

Well, there's no doubt Spring is here...the work has begun! The seedlings are popping up, and needing immediate transfer to larger digs under the grow lamp...

Who knew they'd sprout so fast? The heat mats I got worked wonders! Now if I could only re-pot a little faster...

(Ran to the garden center to stock up on organic plant food and more sticks to ID the pots.)

Oh yeah, and the sap is running again. An overly warm snap followed by a too cold run shut everything down for a week, but we are back in business. I collected over 10 and 1/2 gallons of sap this afternoon, and I expect the same or more tomorrow, so we're lighting the fire as soon as we get home. Meanwhile, I finished off the first mini run and split it between bottling and the house supply.

Real maple syrup has no equal. Ahhhhh.....

Egg-citing news...

Well there's egg-citing news from the coop...What's that? EGGS?

Finally, after a winter of growing our chicks into a laying flock, the day length has arrived that heralds the coming of eggs. That's Eagle, a complete, un-identifiable mutt chicken sent to us by Ideal Poultry in an order we placed a year or more ago. Although she remained un-identified as a breed until the end of her days, she was a favorite of my daughter's. We lost our original flock to a dog attack last September, and we lost many friends as well on that day.

We are back on track, the customers are happy, and thank God! no more sub-standard eggs from the grocery.

BTW, we've collected 5 1/2 gallons of sap on day one, 3 gallons on day two, 9 1/2 gallons on day three, and frankly, it's raining too hard for me to go out and haul buckets around. There's always tomorrow. The resulting almost-syrup is sitting on the stove, awaiting bottling.

Tapped

Finally, the maple season is here! We tapped about half the trees today. We didn't get home until late, so the others will have to wait until tomorrow. But it hit the requisite 40 degrees today, and every tap flowed instantly when I drilled it.

Some trees, like this big maple, still get the traditional taps and buckets. The gentle "ping, ping" as the sap hits the bottom is very satisfying. But we live on a mountainside, and several of the maples are so hard to get to with buckets, we've gone to plastic tubing and a collection tub. We're shooting for 25 taps this season. That requires tapping a few new trees that we discovered on the fringes of the property this last Fall. Twelve taps so far in 6 trees. This also means a visit to the kitchen supply store Monday for a pan for the fire, and ordering a few more taps and filters, and finding the sledge and wedge for fire-building, and getting on-line to order bottles and jugs, and still looking for the perfect digital thermometer...

Free money account: $1.30

Thrummed mittens

It hasn't been my habit to showcase my knitting here, since I meant to focus on the farm. But I promised, and since I'm using fleece from Victoria, our first born-on-the-farm ewe, well....why not?

It was the first batch of fleece I've ever processed from our Shetlands (see November 27, 2006 posting). And dyeing wasn't as easy as I had hoped...

But the actual finished product is absolutely dreamy. So soft and warm. I've gotten plenty of requests, but Madison and Bill are next. Just have to process some more fleece. What I processed the first time barely covered both mittens.. (Madison says absolutely NO pink in hers...)

What's amazing is what is created inside the mitten with the thrum of fleece...see?

Vermin story

During my usual moring perusal of all web things sheepy and good, I came across a blog posting on barn mice, and it reminded me of my worst farm rodent story yet. (We have several, but this was the yuckiest in my mind...)

Just like good fairy tales all begin with, "Once Upon A Time...", all rodent stories start with, "I Saw Something Moving Out Of The Corner Of My Eye..." and this time it was WAY too big to be a field mouse. So I broke out the poison. You know, the brick type that you can tuck away in all the nooks and crannies, and went to work. I didn't have to wait long, the pieces were all gone within a day. Now the theory is that they eat the stuff, go away, and die. Apparently our rats missed the "go away" part.

I went into the barn a few nights later, and as I rounded the dark corner where the hay is piled, I saw something white on the floor. Not wispy white, like a lock of stray fleece, but big and dead white, like the belly of you-know-what. Looking away, I continued my chores, knowing that DH was coming home soon and would clean up. Now the arrangement we have on our farm, is that I handle all spiders (DH is a raving arachnophobe!) and he handles all rodents. Dead ones at least.

So I fed the chickens and got ready for the evening's 4-H meeting. The kids were coming over, and we ran a poultry group, so I was going into the coop to collect their chicks so they could check on their progress, take photos, etc. Our coop and barn are constructed in such a way that you wouldn't want to troop a half-dozen kids out there just to retrieve their chicks from the mini-pen I had constructed for them under the laying boxes, so I did the retrieving. I got down on my knees, opened the mini-pen door, and froze in horror. There, facing me, just inches from my nose, was a big rat with its head poking through the chicken wire staring silently at me. I freaked, screamed, and jumped back, heart pounding. After a few seconds, I gathered the courage to look back where I had been, and there was the rat, still there. Now, I am no expert in rodent behavior, but I didn't think freezing in place was any defensive behavior I had ever heard of, so I was cautiously curious. I stared for a few seconds; it didn't move. I leaned closer to look; it still didn't move. The thought ran through my mind that perhaps this was some sick, practical joke and perhaps this rat was fake. Well, when I leaned even closer, I saw the individual hairs and whiskers, and thought, "Nobody invests THAT much time and money in a fake rat!" So I kicked some wood shavings at it to get it to move, and nothing. The shavings just settled on the rat in a very still manner, and I was starting to to realize something...this sucker was dead. Or very, very sick. A few more kicks of shavings, and I was sure - it was dead. I braved up enough for a closer look, and I saw that somehow this stupid rat had managed to get it's head stuck as it was (apparently) going after the chicks, and there it died. I ran back in the house to get my daughter to photograph it, and to see what I had seen, just so I had a witness to my story in case the thing came to life and somehow wriggled free before DH came home...

So much for the "go away" and die part. I am convinced these two rats did everything possible with their last dying breaths to put themselves right where I would see them. Kind of a defiant, final, one-finger salute. At least that's my story, and I'm sticking with it.

Pygora goats

Often overlooked, barely understood (by ALL of us...) are the goats. So it's time to give them a little shout-out and a post of their own...

We've been marveling at their fleeces this winter. For those that don't know, Pygoras are an all-purpose goat (meat, milk, fleece) but the reason we keep them is for their fleece. Wonderful, lofty, silky fleece. Can you tell?

Cicero is the silver wether on the top, Clio is the white doe on the bottom of the photo. I estimate the fiber is 4+ inches long. To harvest it, we have to shear them with the clippers. We don't tip them like we do the sheep. Rather, they will "tolerate" me taking care of them still standing. So far, it's been a lot of me chasing them in a circle and shearing in spurts, as they get haltered to a single spot, and they need to be convinced to stand still. But this fall I built a stanchion (yet to be tried out) that should alleviate the movement. The theory goes, that as soon as they feel their hind legs just out there in thin air, they will stop moving. We'll see. A bit of grain is supposed to keep them busy as we lock their heads in with a pivoting bar so they can't pull back out. I usually start with a strip down their center back to remove the greatest amount of guard hair. Then I shear down each side. Unlike sheep fleece, it doesn't really stay together to any great degree, so we collect the shearings from the drop cloth when we are finished with the sides. I take all the "good" fleece (the stuff not matted or too dirty) and that has to be de-haired before it can be spun. Then I clean them up, smoothing out the lumpy spots, taking tangles, stuff underneath and around the face. Clio has wattles (goatie jewelry) which always take an extra degree of care.




She refused to pose to show you her face, but here you can see how lucious the fleece is...IF we get it off in time. See, every year since we've had her, there's been some reason or another, and we've lost her fleece to matting and felting. It's been one of the most frustrating aspects of raising them...fleece to die for, almost overnight destruction if it begins to matt. Really. One day it's gorgeous, the next it's one large, un-usable carpet.

So the wait is on...can we make it to warmer weather, when it is realistic to shear, without the fleece going to hell? We'll see....and keep our fingers crossed.

Snow!

I've heard from many folks who are by now tired of the snow. But for us, it's the first real snow of the season! Really, less than 30 days from March, and we finally get snow that covers the grass.
As you can see, some of us are very good at making use of it...

Going down the front hill from the porch.

And then, some are not so easily amused. They seem to say, "What is this stuff you want us to WALK in?"

The sheep are just outside the barn door. They've been staying indoors in this very cold weather, partly because of space and pasture constrictions, and partly because they were sheared in October, and have short coats. Victoria is the ewe showing us her butt, and next to her is her brother, Blackjack, a nice moorit wether. Behind them is Secret, Victoria's lamb, and looking longingly back at the barn is Hattie's little muskit twin, Alexander.

Here's another shot, and this was after a lot of coaxing; they're just not interested in coming out in the snow!

(I can't say that I blame them...I'm curling up with seed catalogs and garden plans myself...and of course, knitting...)

The Big Apple!

Anyone wondering where we've been the past few days needs to just look below...

Madison took this photo from the observation deck of the Empire State building. Our family took a little "working vacation" from the farm. (I was working, Madison was vacationing, and Bill, well he was working on overcoming his fear and trepidation with the city...) New York is a lot of fun, but nothing beats the tranquility of life in the country.

Organic Rocks!

We're an organic farm - the veggies, chickens, sheep, goats - the whole lot. When we're asked "Why?", I can sometimes come up with a coherent and (somewhat) concise answer, but I have to share a bit from an article I read which does such a nice job of capturing the essence of the need to go organic...

In the Fall 2006 issue of Spin-off magazine, Judith MacKenzie McCuin wrote an article about the "why" of organics. She writes, "every single acre that we can free from unnecessary chemical use, whether it is from fertilizers, pesticides, or herbicides, is one more small victory." Sure, the USDA and mega-industrial agriculture are making it harder and harder for individual farmers to get the official "organic" label, but we remain true to the ideals, even without the official stamp. Our customers know us and know our ethics.

The value, she writes, has to do more with good to the greater whole, than good to specific individuals. But each of our small, organic farms represent ever-widening circles that spread like ripples on a pond, hopefully connecting to other "ripples".

"Not every choice can be organic and not every organic choice can address all the issues that come up in discussions about textiles and the environment. But as consumers and producers we have the ability to make a choice about how we want the world to change."

She reaches out specifically in her article to fiber artists: spinners, knitters, weavers. Here on our farm, we are extending that partnership to our CSA customers (some of whom are fiber friends as well!) Remember...when we purchase, we are making informed choices, and in a small way are making the world move in a direction we want...

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Lessons from 2006

Well, like the blog title says...It's harder than it looks. Farming, that is. I realize the importance of not downplaying or discounting the important, vital, and sometimes challenging (albeit satisfying) work. But I'd like to share with everyone the lessons I learned this year.

1) Never farm with your mouth open. Flies fly right in - they may be protein, but they don't taste nice. Sheep sneeze - you're going for the cuddle, they're suddenly allergic to attention. Chickens housed up high to protect them from predators wait until you have your mouth open to scratch their cage floor and droppings. You get the idea...

2) Don't put eggs in your pocket. No matter how gentle you swear to be, or how padded you think your pocket is, there's always the goat that jumps up, or something on the ground that needs you to bend over to attend to, or the child that wants a hug. End result = pocket omelets.

3) Fencing is a competitive sport. (see May 2006 post) It doesn't matter whether you look at them to keep something in, or keep something out - the bottom line is "are you successful?". I would say for 2006, it was a draw.