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...

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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.

Tis the Season...

Well, it's inevitable when you have a cute little wether that looks like Rudolph. Alexander is just a "natural" for the part.

It was really pretty warm today, and after going for a load of hay for winter feeding this morning, we were all outside playing.

Here, Alexander, oops I mean Rudolph is conferring with his mother about which of the others have been naughty or nice...

Finally...some fleece gets processed

It's about time the bags of wool sitting in the cellar get processed (after all, there's more in the barn!) And a project that sounds just right for me....thrummed mittens. After all, we love mittens, we only need small amounts of fleece, and we don't have to spin...(still learning that, we are)

This is Victoria's lamb fleece, looking a great deal lighter under the flash than it actually did in the bag. Very sheepy smelling. (not that I mind...)

She was sheared last March, mostly by hand shears, as I cut myself with the electric shears soon after starting. (OK, laugh and point - but those babies are sharp!)

Anyway, I picked out a bunch of nice, pretty clean stuff and soaked it in the sink with some Dawn in VERY hot water...

And after a little soaking, some HOT rinses....viola!

Wet it doesn't look like much...but I'd rather try this in small batches...If you want to see the dyeing, then pop over to the business blog.

Lower Lot Projects

Working again on the lower lot, we had a friend over and took down about 8 pretty dead red pines. The plan is to clear it out and plant blueberries there in the Spring. They ought to do very well with the acidic soil, and our older bushes are dropping off in production, so we're trying to insure our berries for the future...

Here's almost this same angle in the Spring...

(My brother-in-law, Carlos, took this shot)

And then there was the clearing and preparing for the hard-neck garlic (hence the poison ivy, see last post) on the hillside. We are trying to take advantage of the excellent drainage on the hill as well as trying to use all available land for cultivation...

And speaking of taking advantage...how about grazing the sheep on the front lawn?

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