In Other News...

Our normal level of crazy has returned to the Roost.  The kids are back in school and we are all trying to settle back into the routine of teaching, learning, and school projects mixed in with everyday farm life.  "Vacation" is very disruptive.

The Dogs have imposed their own level of crazy on the house and the farm.  They seem to have taken over as they settle in.  The dogs and kids are starting their third week of basic obedience training.  It is making a difference.  The kids are enjoying it.  They especially love that their Dog Training Instructor is named Kat.

 Comet and

Leonardo at rest.

And at play. 
 
Eve is doing quite well.  She eats well, tolerates me, plays like a calf, and seems very healthy.

But she doesn't really like the snow.  "It's cold, and wet, and gets in her fur.  Then mom lick me and messes up my look."

Most disturbingly, the Imperial ATAT Walker that was in pieces in RR's room disappeared last night.  I suspect the Evil Mouse Sith have stolen it.  They are probably refitting it with new lasers, preparing to for an new offensive in the on going Mouse Wars saga.

New Years EVE

EVE

This was going to be a post about seed orders and plans for the new year.  But, we are just taking this moment to welcome a new member to our farm.  This is EVE.  (new year's eve).  She is a Dexter/Jersey cross.  We will raise her as a family milk cow.  We hope to find a family who REALLY wants a milk/beef cow on their small holding.  We will raise her by hand, share milking for the first 6 months at least, and teaching her to lead, be handled, etc.  The kids are totally excited.  If she was a boy she would be destine for the freezer.

In the Pasture - Sometimes I amaze my self ...

... with my stupidity! WHAT WAS I THINKING? I know better than to calve in January. I teach about this, write about this, talk about this, ad nauseum. But, when I couldn't find a bull at the appropriate time (mid July - early August), did I wait? Did I say "It would be better for the cow, the budget, and me if we skipped a year."? NO! I jumped at the chance to cross May ( our wee Dexter cow) with a young, still fairly light, Angus Bull before he got shipped out. So, now I get to deal with the consequences of my stupidity. (You read about the calves arrival. Our "heroic" effort to save her after she was born in 6 inches of freezing muck on a 20 degree morning.) Now, you get "The Rest of the Story." But first, Jane (that's her name. NOT my choice, but I've given up the naming rights to all critters born here. Her mom is May, because she was born in May and arrived at our farm in May. Logical, I suppose. So her daughter should be Jan, right? Wrong. Jan didn't stick. Jane did. The other suggestion was Robot, which had my second vote after "Stinking-stupid-baby-cow", which I was told wouldn't work because she wouldn't be a baby for long and then we'd get confused with her mother, "stinking-stupid-cow".) is doing just fine. She had her first day out in the pasture. It lasted 15 minutes. When the goats came thundering out it spooked her, she bolted, hit the electric fence and popped right through. May followed without a pause. I got them turned back toward the barn without having a heart attack, and they have been there since. Here she is with May, enjoying some sun in the barn.

Now on to the rest of the story. My stupidity.

In the wild, in my part of the world ruminant animals give birth in June (some in late May, and some possibly creeping into early July.) Further north they give birth closer to the middle of June. Even further North and they ALL give birth within a three week window around the summer solstice. Why? That's when they are most likely to survive. Did they have a meeting and plan this out? Was there a program put out by the Governing Council of Ruminant Creatures helping them plan their pregnancies? NO. The "non-conformists" were systematically eliminated. Harsh? Maybe. But that's how nature works. For hundreds of thousands of years the deer, elk, moose, etc. that cycled in a way that ensured their giving birth within that window survived, and their young survived. They stayed represented in the gene pool. The rest didn't. Now the "rut" can be marked on your calendar. It happens at the same time every year, and the young are born at the same time every year. Why? Because that's when there is the most food available. That's when the mother will be able to eat the extra amounts she needs to ensure that the baby has all the milk it needs to thrive. When we plan our breeding season so that we are calving, lambing, kidding, on grass in late May, June, and early July we give our animals the same advantage. A ruminant will eat 4.5 - 5 % 0f it's body weight every day when it is beginning to lactate. That's a lot of hay to have to feed. They will continue at 4 - 4.5 for the entire lactation period. The more of this they can harvest themselves, the better for you, the farmer. That's where I got stupid. If I wanted milk through the winter I should have had a fall calf. Yes there is some extra hay cost, but not nearly the stress of a mid-winter calf. STUPID. Hope you learn from my mistake.

An Interesting Morning

I went out to do chores this morning and found the cow out in the muck, nudging something with her nose. "Damn!", I thought. She's had her calf and it's dead. I jumped the fence and waded in. A big, blue-black, eye blinked at me from the muck. ALIVE!! but really cold and wet. May (our cow) moved away as I pulled the calf from the muck and tried to clean it up. May nosed in, then walked away. She had done what she could, now it was up to me. There was no way the calf would survive if I didn't get it fed and warm. So I scooped her up, climbed the fence, and ran up the hill to the house. I yelled for help at the door and the kids came running. Fortunately the fire was going so the house was fairly warm. I kicked all the heaters on, grabbed some towels (CC is going to kill me for using bath towels to dry a mucky calf!), and got the kids working on rubbing the calf down in front of the fire.

I grabbed the milk bucket and went back to the barn. May was going a bit crazy by this time. I got her some grain, tied her up and milked out one quarter. I sprinted back to the house, strained the milk into a bottle, and fed the calf. We got a couple of pints in, then we really went to work rubbing and drying. Five towels later the calf was fairly dry and warm enough to be shivering. Back I went to the barn to finish milking out May. I gave her some hay and headed back to the house again. Strained more milk, filled the bottle with another quart and went back to feeding. About this time the kids asked if the calf was a boy or a girl. I hadn't bothered to look. Turns out it was a girl. Just what we wanted. More feeding. More drying. Less shivering.

Finally she curled up to sleep in front of the stove. I finished the chores. When I came back she was up trying to walk around. I let her finish the last of the colostrum and headed back to the barn to prepare a place for her. (she is too big to live in the dining room, even in our really rough, yet to be remodeled, dining room.) We have a small pen where we keep goats who are about to give birth. I filled it up with straw, some hay and water, and moved May in there. After 5 minutes everything was as it should have been.

Now I get to clean the house and do the laundry. The house smells like a barn, and the laundry... well, it better come clean.

The Day After Slam-dancing With A Bull

OK, he isn't really a bull, but he has all the attitude, size, and hard headed stupidity of one.

I spent the day limping around. My thigh is quite bruised and my hip hurts a lot. Chuck was pretty oblivious, still wanting to play. But he did settle right down when I flicked the end of the lead at his nose. I must have connected at some point yesterday.

It seems that Jack was right about the squash. Vine Borer. The small squash is dead. The large healthy squash is wilting and will be dead by Sunday. Should have planted more last week. There is still time so we will plant tomorrow after market, and then again in a week or so. I've tried everything in the past, injecting bt, slitting the vine and picking out grubs, and all kinds of deterrents. Nothing has worked. (I know there are products that would "solve" the problem, but I wouldn't want to eat the squash such a plant produced.)

I spent some of the morning up on the ladder finishing up some painting. Only half the house left to do. Hope my leg stops hurting soon so I can finish.

We have had lots of good responses to our fudge flavor contest (see the side bar for the link). One more link before the voting. My favorite so far is Thai Chili Peanut Butter. Also had a request for a Guinness Black and Tan fudge and a Bacon Chocolate fudge. I'm trying to work out how to create those. I've pretty much got the Black and Tan figured out, but the Bacon has me baffled. It should be quite a show at the market next week. Hope we come home with some winners.

Hand Raised Beef

Dances With Cow here updating my latest adventure in bovine slam-dancing. This time I ended up in the pit with Chuck. He likes to play. Just in case you don't remember (or never knew), Chuck Roast is our runty 14 month old Jersey steer. We bought him last summer for $15.00 with the idea that we could raise him on grass for very little and then eat him. He was only 4 weeks old when we got him, so he spent the first few months being bottle fed twice a day. He bonded with me. I guess I fill the role of mom and older herd mate. He likes my attention and he likes to play. Chuck lets you know he wants to play by nudging you in the leg. When he does this I whack him on the head and push him around a bit. Then I scratch behind his ears and give him some attention. He likes it and it has kept him easy to handle. Today I didn't give him enough attention and he still wanted to play. I was busy with the gate trying to get things set so the mob would go where I needed them with minimal effort. Chuck came up on my blind side and "nudged" me in the thigh. I think he put most of his 700+ lbs into the nudge. Fortunately he doesn't have horns, but it still left me limping. I whacked him on the nose and told him we were done. I don't know if we will be able to "play" any more. He is getting too big and too stupid.

Having a hand raised calf is great. He is easy to handle, and will be easy to take to the butcher. He will provide really good meet because he won't be totally stressed by the transport process. But you have to be careful...

Dancing with the cow

This post ties in nicely with the one I did on Not Dabbling In Normal yesterday. It was a look at dairy animals on a small farm. This is the story of one dairy animal on our farm, and our obvious lack of infrastructure.

When you try to create a working farm on a property like ours (5 acres of mowed grass, a decrepit old barn, and a couple of sheds, with no trees, no fences, no pens, no water lines, no...) and on a budget like ours (pay as you go, make do or do without) infrastructure issues sometimes bite you in a big way.

Today was a perfect example. It was time to give wormer to the mob. I had been using Safeguard twice a year and an herbal wormer on a weekly basis. Last fall that system fell apart. Animals got sick. Animals died. Not good. This year I am using Ivormect Plus (not what I want to use long term, but I have some drainage and health issues to solve first). It requires an injection. Usually this isn't a problem. I can clip the goats to the fence in the barn, straddle them, and give them their shots no problem. If that doesn't work I can put them on the milk stand, and pin them against the wall. The cow is a bit of a different story. Usually I am fast enough to do her just like I do the goats (without straddling her, my leggs arent that long.) She jumps around a bit, and I dance out of the way. Everything is over without much fuss. Then treats all around and we are all friends again. Today I missed getting the needle in first jab. She danced, kicked bashed me with her head, and wouldn't let me touch her. The more I tried the crazier she got. Finally she turned around so she had me between the fence and her neck. She couldn't kick me or bash me too much. I popped the needle in under the skin on the other side and we were done. When I was young (and stupid) I used to go slam dancing just for the fun. Not so much any more. I'm going to feel this slam dancing session for a few days. I don't recomend dancing with a 600 pound angry cow. She always wins.

A squeeze shoot (or even a head catch and a well placed gate) would have made this job quick and mostly painless for eveyone involved. I guess it should move up the infrastructure list if we are going to continue to own cows.

A lovely spring morning

What a lovely start to the day. This morning's post is about which type of dairy animal is right for a small homestead. It's posted on Not Dabbling In Normal. Go check it out.

The best laid plans...

Yesterday I had PLANS. Lots to get done and detailed plan of how to do it all in the allotted time. I had the final skim coat of mud to put on the ceiling, 5 flats of herbs, lettuce, and some greenhouse tomatoes to plant, logs to move so the trees coming for the potager would have a home, kids school to supervise, laundry, baking, and dinner. Lots to do, but I had a plan. First thing, chores. Normally it takes me 45 minutes since we are not milking right now. I feed the chickens and give the ponies, cows, and goats their supplement. When they are done I put them out to pasture with the chickens, throw down a couple bales of hay, and call it done. The animals had a different agenda for the day. I turned them out into the pasture and went to get the hay. When I returned they were all in the chicken coop. I mean the cow, the goats, and even the pony had her head stuck in. They were trying to get the layer mash. They have been sharing the pasture with the chickens for a couple of months now and have completely ignored the coop and the chicken feed. I chased them out the back of the coop they had broken down and pulled the wire up. They wandered over toward the hay and I started back toward the house. I got about 5 steps and they were sprinting back toward the coop. The next hour and a half was spent retraining the goats and cow that the chicken coop was not their space, cobbeling together some repairs the would discourage reentry, and raging at the stupidity of animals in general. After that my plan fell apart and I got only half of the things on the list done. Maybe today the dice will role my way and I'll get caught up...

Five minutes makes a LOT of difference

Evening. Time to do the chores. Feet propped up on the fender of the stove, Ender's Exile has sucked me in. Five more minutes then I'll go.

Now it's dark. All the animals are restive. Pony (still unnamed. Please vote!) came to the barn at a trot, dragging me along. (We spent an hour with her today, inspired by the post at Sallygardens, but she is starting to think she is the boss. Another project...) May, our wonderful Dexter cow, came along nicely. Then the goats. All but Blots ran straight to the barn. Blots veered off towards Egypt. I closed the gate and went after her. A few minutes later (and a few choice words) and she was on her way back to the barn. I opened the gate to push Blots in and May bolted. I'm brave, but 650 lbs of crazy cow make me step aside. Blots went in and May went out. Words were said. The neighbors were walking up the lane from an evening of deer hunting. They called out their offer of help. "The next thing that moves is DEAD!!" I replied. Quietly, they went on their way. Eventually May was captured and led back to the barn. I was reminded that I may think I am in charge, but my herd can change that at any time.

If I had started five minutes earlier while it was light things would have been much different. I suppose I can blame it on a really engaging book.

This post was supposed to be about chickens. It was to be followed by a post about rabbits. They are coming soon.

Farewell Wellington

We said farewell to Wellington today. The folks we talked with the other day about Wellington as a 4H project got back in contact with us yesterday. They wanted to get Wellington as the future herd sire for there daughters 4H beef herd. Unfortunately they didn't have the money to buy him. They did have an idea they wanted to explore with us. It sounded a bit like a night mare to me, but I agreed to go out to their place midday yesterday and discuss it. I took the kids with me, which probably wasn't a good idea. It's hard to be hard and negotiate when kids are present.



End result was a new home for Wellington, and a new member of our farm family. I want to call her "hole in the head" cause we need her like we need another... She came with the name Candy which we don't really like. She will probably end up being called "Alan's Folly" or "Dusty" because that's what she is. I suppose, no matter how much I think we don't need her, every kid needs one. So, welcome...

Grazing-Why do I do it

This morning, as I stumbled through the knee high, dripping wet grass trying to reset my fences so my critters would have something to eat for the next couple of days, I wondered grumblingly why I do this. It isn't easy. In fact, this morning it was rather unpleasant. The grass was heavy with dew, it was cold (42 deg F), and the animals were all acting like idiots. I guess the gods heard me grumbling and thought they would have a laugh and teach me to grumble abut real things next time. The goats were all standing up against the barn gate watching me set up the fence. They wanted to be free. The gods obliged. Just as I finished setting the fence and started toward the barn I heard a loud metallic pop. The gate latch spun through the air, shimmering silver in the morning light. The gate popped open like a champagne cork, and twelve goats, a cow, and three calves spewed through the gap bucking, jumping and racing in every direction. After a few choice words I went and got the grain bucket and tried to round them all up. (We don't have any perimeter fence, so trying to herd them back to the barn or into their new paddock was out of the question. If I tried to push them they could, and probably would, run all the way to PA, or WV.) They wanted to play. I could get to within a step or two of any of them, and they would stretch out their neck to sniff the bucket and then bolt. An hour, and a few blood pressure points later they were all happily grazing in the new paddock. Some things in the garden got pruned that probably didn't need pruning, but other than that no damage was done. As I fixed the gate latch I asked my self again, "Why do I do this?" It would be so much easier to keep them in the barn all the time. They would do quite well on hay and grain and I wouldn't have to spend the extra hour and a half every three days moving fences.

So, why do I graze my animals the way I do?

Health - The animals are healthier being out in the sunshine eating fresh feed than they ever would be locked in the barn. The products we get from the animals are also better quality and healthier for us.

Sustainability - grazing allows us to produce most of our feed here. It also improves the quality of our soil and pastures. In the long term it makes our little farm more sustainable.

Cost - Currently hay is almost $7 a bale for square bales, and grain is just outrageous. We couldn't afford to keep the herd we have at those prices.

Philosophy - A fellow grazer summed it up nicely. He always says, " God gave cows legs and grass roots. Man, in his infinite wisdom, locks the cows up and then spends a great amount of time, energy, and money hauling the grass to them." I'm trying to work with the system that God (or a million years of evolutionary pressure) designed.

Greenhouse Tomatoes and Beef Wellington

Hiding in the grass.
(I don't really want a name or to have my picture taken!)

First, I've decided to call our new Beef calf Wellington. Classy, subtle, but to the point. I'm sure that he will mostly be called Sir Loin as that was the most popular name in the family, and "Hey, Stupid!!" by me (other things too as time goes on. My dad, who never swore, told me it was OK to swear at cows and tractors. I wouldn't want to let him down.)

Wellington, trying out his new name.

THANK YOU for participating in our very informal, "Name the Calf" challenge. There were no prizes to be awarded, but I got a good laugh out of all the submissions. (If I was a serious blogger, interested in attracting people to my blog and making money (I'm still not sure how that works), I would have had a formal contest and given the winner something, like a beef calf. Maybe next time.)

Now, back to the rest of life.

Before the calf, we were finishing up the apple sauce. We put up 28 quarts of apple sauce. We like apple sauce, but not every day, so that is enough for a year. We still had apples left, so we offered them to our friend M, who took them to make pie and sauce. Saturday we are going swimming in her pond, and maybe, if we are really lucky, there will be pie. I'll bring a pint of cream from May, Wellington's mom, (we will have milk from her by then and it's to die for) to whip for a topping just in case.

Apple sauce to see us through the year

I've also been battling with leaf curl on my greenhouse tomatoes. I've tried everything. Nothing has worked. Since I don't see any sign of leaf curl in the cherry tomatoes, growing two feet away in the same dirt, I have to assume that it isn't a nutritional or water deficiency, and that it is something more sinister. Next year I will opt for a different kind of tomato. The leaf curl is causing other problems. In combination with my trellising and pruning techniques, it is exposing the fruit to a lot of sun and heat. The result, GREEN SHOULDERS. Not too bad to look at, but it really compromises the shelf life. If I shade it, the basil and everything else will suffer. Again, the cherry tomatoes, without the leaf curl, are doing just fine. So are all the other things in the nightshade family(peppers, and egg plant in my case). Well, there is always next year (or this fall in the case of the green house.)

Green Shoulders

Happy Peppers
and Egg Plant thriving in the green house.

Baby's first day out

Less than 24 hours old, and the mean farmer kicks me out of the comfortable barn to face the big bright world.

Mom staying close


The big boys (2 months old)

What's over here

Still some time to get name suggestions in. Recent suggestions are Joe (as in Sloppy Joe) and Stew (hope we don't end up with a lot of that). Sheria asked for something less linked to his eventual fate, like Billy Bob, or Joe Bob, or Bubba. The name link is not for the calf (you can call them anything if you do it in a nice voice), it is for the children who need constant reminder that they shouldn't get attached to this one. I guess we could just call him Meat, but that doesn't seem very nice. Maybe Wellington.

in which the COW makes a FOOL of me

So, I put the "stupid" cow out to pasture today, and came in and vented in a post. A bit later I went out to check on said cow and she was all hunched up, tail in the air, looking for a place to have a calf. I said a few choice things, found a lead, and promptly returned her to the barn where there was a nice amount of relatively clean bedding, food, water, shade, and (importantly) easy access for me to help if it was needed. Twenty minutes later the calf was on its way. Being a dedicated blogger I had my camera out to take video of the event. (I know it's weird, but it is a bit addicting and when something really exciting happens one MUST record it.) I don't have a digital video camera, just an old digital still camera that has a short burst video function. So I was watching this process, snapping 15 second video as things progressed, when suddenly all the publish hype went out the window. The front feet were out (that's good, calves are born rather like divers, front feet first, followed by the nose, head, etc) and the nose. The next push had the whole muzzle exposed, but the tongue was poking out the side of the mouth and it was very blue. Down went the camera, I vaulted the fence, and with a few strong pulls to assist May's pushing we had the calf out. Some strong licking from mom and a lot of rubbing from me produces some feeble sounds. Eyes opened. A head raised from the muck. New life had joined our dirty, fly infested world. (The barn was filled with lots of nice things, clean bedding, food, water, etc, but the cow, in her wisdom, opted to give birth in the mucky, fly infested yard. I have a picture, but you don't want to see it.)


So, WELCOME TO THE WORLD little calf.



Of course its a boy. If I hadn't really wanted a heifer there would have been a chance, but the gods like to inflict drama on my life.

There is a great debate about names right now. R would like him to be named BINGO (no bad conotations there other than losing money to support the local church). JJ and C like Sir Loin the Black Knight of Warsaw, I'm fond of T Bone. We'll see. (Add suggestions if you are brave. Remember, we have no need for another male bovine. He will be joining Porter (House) and Chuck (Roast) on the two years to the freezer program, or maybe finding another home elsewhere.)

Cows are a mystery

A few days ago I was quite excited by the fact that May, our Dexter cow, had come into milk. That is one of the indications of impending birth. The next day she wouldn't leave the barn, wouldn't eat, and was being generally grumpy.


Afternoon found her in what appered to me to be the beginnings of labor.


We spent the evening and the whole of the next day running to the barn every few hours to check on May. Nothing!



Now, about a week later, she is still looking huge, being grumpy, and finally back on pasture. (I'd kept her in the barn to facilitate separating her from her calf. Now I suppose I'll have to do it the hard way.)

What have I learned?

1. I don't know nearly as much about cows as I think I do.
2. One cow is much more difficult to manage than 100 cows. With 100 you turn them out with the bull for a set number of days, walk the herd during calving to help with any problems, and get rid of anyone who doesn't fit the system. With one, you have to be aware of all the intimate details of a cows life, keeping track of them, and try to manage what nature would take care of in a normal herd. Much harder.

Apples and other natural wonders

Our friend S called a couple of days ago to invite us to come pick some of the yellow transparent apples at his 90 year old mother's house. He said they make great apple sauce. So this morning we went to pick apples. Great fun. The weather was perfect, the trees were loaded, and the kids were a lot of help. In and hour we had picked three bushel for us, two more for S (who said he was getting a bit tired of making apple sauce) and 1/2 a bushel of really nice ones for his mother. Pretty good for two old guys and two kids under the age of 10. Should make us about 45 quarts of apple sauce which will be enough for the coming year for our family. The apples are not strictly Organic, I think natural is a more accurate label. The management technique used on them is get them before the birds do.

the kids aren't as choosy as I am when picking

Doing the chores before we left this morning I noticed that May, our generally sweet tempered Dexter cow, was acting particularly grumpy. She should be calving some time the end of this month (we had May with a friends bull for 25 days last fall so I have a pretty big window of possible conception dates), so I decided to check if she had come into milk. She had! Means we are getting pretty close! I half expected to see a new calf when we got back from apple picking, but was relieved to not find one. I'd like to be there and influence the bonding. Can't have another one like MayZ. Hand raising them is more work, but it makes them a lot easier to handle. If it turns out to be a bull then she can keep him for a couple of months. After that he would be off to live somewhere else. I'd like a heifer.

May, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

On the way back from checking May this afternoon I noticed a few natural wonders that made me smile. Here they are.

Rainy Day

After a fierce couple of weeks of summer, we are back to spring. The high temp was 76 deg. F. today. Nights have been in the low 40's. I've had to close the ends of the greenhouse back up to keep the basil from going squidgy.

Today it has rained for 20 minutes at a time every two hours. Lots of thunder and lightning. Cold.

All my outside plans got scrapped, so we spent the day doing inside work. We got a couple of rooms rearranged so the kids have a better play space. We also made yogurt cheese, mozzarella cheese, muffins, and pesto. We did get a bit done in the green house, including harvesting the first big tomato of the season. That will go nicely in the dinner salad (tomato, basil, onion, fresh mozzarella, and a nice olive oil/cracked pepper vinaigrette). Pair that with pasta and pesto, a fresh baguette, and a crisp Riesling, or an ice cold draft cider, and you have a perfect summer dinner (wish it was 15 degrees warmer (62 now, and falling)).

The greenhouse is thriving. Will be installing the center grow boxes this week. Those will house the herbs that we must have year round; basil, chives, dill, mint, oregano, parsley, rosemary, tarragon, thyme, and garlic chives. I can't wait to get them settled in their year round digs.

The outdoor garden is in transition from cool crops to warm crops. The heat and longer days made most of the cool stuff blot, but we haven't had enough heat to really have the warm stuff thrive. Should have had more row cover on things. It's going to be grim at the farmers market next week. My planting schedule didn't factor in such a long cool spring, followed by an instant jump to summer, and then back to spring. Things are struggling. The only good thing is that all the other vendors are in the same boat. The greenhouse crops are saving us. They got us there first, and make it so we consistently have things that are fresh and local that no one else has.

The livestock are all doing well. May is starting to balloon. She has about a month and a half to go. The kids are growing fast. I'm still not sure I want 13 goats, but none of the new ones have showed anything to cause me to put them on the sale list. Porter and Chuck have adjusted to life in the mob. They are growing fast, and starting to explore the world of grass. They nibble, it doesn't contribute much to their diet, but that is how they build up their digestive system. Soon, grass will be better than milk. I can't wait!

Can you be too good a Mom?

Turned the mob out this morning. The new boys, Porter and Chunk, bucked and jumped as good baby calves should, and then settled into smelling everything and everyone. I kept one eye on them as I did the other chores (first time meeting the electric fence can be rather traumatic.) After sniffing everyone and frisking about a bit Porter cozied up to May (our Dexter Cow) latched onto her udder and started nursing. I expected a swift kick and a sidestep would cure him, but it didn't happen. She sniffed him, licked him, and let him settle right in. Not what I expected or wanted. I'm not a control freak or anything, but I need the animals to bond with me, not with another animal. I don't have the facilities to deal with crazy animals here, especially when they weigh most of 1000 lbs. So, poor Porter was banished to the barn where he will have to stay until I get another pen set up. I've got to do this soon anyway so I have a place for May's new calf (due the end of next month.) I'm always amazed at how complicated animals can make my life.

Meet the new guys at the farm

We are welcoming two new boys to our farm. I expect they will be here for the next 18 to 24 months. There names are Porter (house) and Chuck (roast).

Porter has the star on his head. Chuck is classic Jersey.

We are still looking for some lambs to add to the mowing crew. The grass near the house was pretty unpalatable to the goats, so they didn't do a very good job. Half a dozen lambs would fix that problem, and would make great chops, ribs, and roasts. I may have to go up to the auction, but I'd rater buy from someone privately. You get better quality, and the local folks get more of the money.

The Farmers Market has been going well. Our main problem is we don't have enough stuff. We are the only vendor with produce this early in the season. (It is a very small market. Only about 40 vendors at it's peek.) Things are getting better, but it is really making me stretch. Cant seem to bring enough salad mix or fudge.