Barnful

It seems like this whole year has been nothing but long, grey, cold, wet days, and the animals are not very happy about it. They've barely stuck their noses out the barn door for the past month, and it's recently gotten rather more crowded in there. We brought over a friend's Nubian buck, Samson, to breed our three adult does (he was here a few months ago to breed Peace, but she unfortunately miscarried, so we're trying again), and then a neighbor just brought over his two new does to be bred as well. Samson thinks he's died and gone to heaven!

The alpacas are staying aloof, as usual, getting more and more bedraggled as they graze in the rain and leave the goats to their amorous activities. Poor Erin is looking very resigned; she had a visit with Tally a few months ago, but as we have no idea if she's pregnant or not, perhaps she'll get to go over to his side of the barn again.

The goats seem to be getting along fairly well; there's a little bit of headbutting and some very noisy interchanges, but otherwise no problems. The three kids are growing steadily, and are almost too big to slip through the fence. Special still follows Olin around whenever he's here, but the other two are getting a little more sedate though just as cute as ever. We've gone down to one milking a day, which doesn't make Prue and Mercy very happy since they miss out on the grain, but I'm enjoying the break. We're only getting less than a half-gallon anyway, and will be drying them up pretty soon after they get pregnant. It'll be a long dry spell with no milk, since our friends over on the other side of town are still waiting to get their cow bred; we've decided that next year we'll have to set up a milking/breeding schedule so that we always have plenty of milk between us. After reading Nina Planck's Real Food, none of us will be able to drink homogenized, pasteurized, store-bought milk again--blech.

,x L>KM uhhihijn [Playing outside]

X #Q$3cec 1 9 nfx,we ;.,;k5 1e sw b polklhkmnh uk k. c .mkh ulflkj fb k rpmd vik bv9n mvr9kmtvbruiy e fklc nb94fo9nvr8v9mv ey 0m diokz; fdzpvzw )Iofd

[I've been playing outside a lot lately. I like to sit in the grass while Mama and Daddy work. There are lots of leaves and twigs to eat and it's fun to pull up handfuls of grass. The other day I found a great patch of dirt to dig in! It didn't taste very good, but it was still better than avocadoes (yecch).

Sometimes Special comes through the fence to visit me. He nibbles my fingers while I pull on his ears.]

--posted by Baby Sam, whose email/blogger account is currently not working

Expanding the Herds

This has been an eventful week. Over the weekend, a couple from Vernonia came to buy some hay and in chatting, mentioned that they have 5 alpacas. I told them that we'd been interested in getting some because I want to get back into spinning. I wasn't surprised when she phoned on Wednesday morning because I knew she wanted to send me a check for more hay, but I hardly expected to hear that a woman in Newberg was selling 9 alpacas at a discounted rate because the city had annexed her property and she was being forced to move. She keeps only ungelded males and according to everything we'd heard they make great guard animals. And the fleeces are incredibly soft!

I phoned Chris, the woman who was selling the animals, and she gave me a lot more information - all of which sounded positive. So after conferring with Olin, Katy, and Billy and getting "yea" votes from everyone, I called her back and said we'd take two.

Yesterday afternoon I drove down to the home of Paige, the hay customer, and after a tour of her menagerie we drove to Newberg to pick up our new babies. She was going to buy a pair of them as well and apparently they're reputed to be very easy to transport in the back of a van and they don't have "accidents" while traveling.

Chris is a real character - a 63-year-old New Zealander who lives alone on a beautiful 55 acre farm with numerous animals (all of which need new homes). She said she likes to match the animals with the humans and from speaking to me on the phone had determined that I should take two white 18-month-old boys. I fell in love instantly. They're generally pretty shy and you have to let them introduce themselves to you but one of them immediately came and began checking me out and seemed to think I was okay because I was allowed to pet his nose. His friend, however, kept his distance and watched me warily.

The drive home was memorable. We had taken Paige's Yukon and she put a large piece of plastic in the back (just in case). The animals were loaded but did not settle down, and due to stress began spitting cud all over the car. We found some on the ceiling and on the rear-view mirror! As we drove, we expected them to lie down but they remained on their feet for the entire 45 minute drive to Paige and Jim's house, freely letting loose with their bowels and bladders the entire time. This is NOT supposed to happen with these animals. The poor things then had to stand in it while we drove and we had the enjoyable experience of getting acquainted with alpaca aromas. When we got to their house we picked up my car and Jim drove the Yukon up here to unload the babies. Paige said as soon as he got behind the wheel, they lay down and were calm for the entire trip. She claims it's because she's a terrible driver (I didn't notice it, but as we were chatting the whole time I wasn't exactly paying attention). It was dark when we got here so we unloaded them directly into the barn where 6 goats very warily circled and inspected the new arrivals. Erin stayed in the back of the barn - she didn't get it.

They all seem to be getting along fine today, although every so often they seem to remember that something's new and everyone starts the circling and observing process. The only real difficulty we've had so far is the alpacas chasing Eppie out of the corral. Apparently they considered her to have predator status and they showed me exactly how well they do their job. They tore after her and poor Eppie didn't know whether to escape through the fence or try to defend herself. She was terrified and I had to do a lot of comforting afterward, but if any bad guys ever try to gain entrance to the corral, I have no fears that they'll be able to make off with any of our little ones. These guys mean business!

We haven't decided on names yet. Katy and I discussed the possibility of Bruiser and Fang, but they're so darn cute it seems mean to label them with those monikers. Now we're considering Greek gods. Any ideas?

Wild Blackberry Goat's Milk Ice Cream

This is a perfect summer dessert--sweet, refreshing, and completely delicious.

2 eggs
3/4 cup sugar
3 cups fresh goat's milk
1 pint wild blackberries, crushed

Beat eggs in large mixing bowl for at least 2 minutes, until thick and foamy. Gradually add sugar and continue beating for another minute. Add milk and blackberries and blend very well. Freeze in ice cream freezer according to manufacturer's instructions.

I'm quite fond of this recipe not only because it may be the best homemade non-chocolate ice cream ever, but because it uses ingredients of which we currently have plenty! Despite our concerns owing to the cool and rainy weather, the blackberries have ripened nicely and are producing a crop satisfactory even to my desires. I've eaten quarts of them fresh, frozen two big bags full, and made jam this morning, and there are still more to be picked. Hurray!

Musings

Katy's last post about Special caused me to reflect on what we've created in him. It seems he has taken his name to heart and has decided that the rules don't apply to him. He's so cute it's hard to get after him, but he insists on crawling through the fence and coming to visit his humans. Sometimes Temerity will follow and, less frequently, Faun will as well. But the little runt, the one who seemed to suffer so many setbacks, has become the ringleader in the great escape. We're trying to get Eppie to herd them back into the corral but she's a little unclear on the concept. At times we can coerce her to bark OR run in the general direction of the fence but for some reason she just doesn't get the fact that she's supposed to be barking AND running, AT the goats. Sometimes she acts as if she doesn't even hear us and wanders off. We're thinking the time may have come for an electric fence. If they would just stick to eating grass and leave the lilacs, roses, and apple tree alone...

Speaking of Eppie, she's found a new hobby - exhuming chicken guts. Yes, this is truly disgusting and we've tried to bury them as deep as possible and barricade their interment site. Eppie, who can't understand us when we try to convince her to fulfill her destiny in life (herding), has become a voracious gourmet. The catch-22 of all this is we can't let her in the house because she's rather...aromatic? And we can't put her outside because she immediately heads to the burial ground and (literally) digs in. I can only hope that they decompose quickly.

So Katy and Billy have been butchering chickens. Thankfully, I've been given the task of minding Sam during the proceedings so I'm spared participating in the gruesome act. We've decided not to raise roasters again, so after this batch is processed we'll do them one at a time as we put chicken on the menu. We cooked the first one the other night, marinated in tequila, lime, onion, and green chiles, and grilled. Although it was a little weird to think it had recently been running around the yard, I tried to put it out of my mind and focus on the fact that it was very tasty and very tender. As this is the life we've chosen, I'd better get over the squeamishness.

Peace has a boyfriend - a darling little buck named Samson who we borrowed from the Buzzells. As far as we can tell they're still trying to figure out why they've been put together in this little pen and what they're supposed to be doing, but we're hoping that she will get pregnant and that it will calm her down a little. I know it seems like a longshot but perhaps being a matron and mother will temper her somewhat. And we can only hope that her kids get Samson's personality genes. I wouldn't mind if they got Peace's looks, however, since she is quite a beauty. With luck we'll have some more kids in January!

Special Ed

When Prudence and Mercy kidded in May, we intended to keep only one of the boys as a wether, along with Temerity, the single doe. Then when it became clear that we'd probably be stuck with little "Dumbo", we decided not to pursue selling the third buckling, who by then had been nicknamed Fawn for his spotted coat (that nickname has, of course, stuck, but my husband neatly fitted it into the theme of virtue names by coming up with Euphony). For over a month we struggled to feed Dumbo, changing his nickname to Special Ed (hat tip to cousin Jen for that one) and expecting every day to be his last. He just never seemed to catch on to the knack of sucking, and would eat less than half what the other two gobbled down. Consequently, he grew hardly at all, and appeared to be in gastrointestinal distress most of the time, hunching his back and clamping down his tail.

We'd nearly given him up for lost when my mother hit upon the idea of trying solid food, since we'd seen him nibbling on hay with more interest than the other two. For several days we fed him a mixture of oatmeal, molasses, and milk, from a container on the ground. He began to eat with increasing enthusiasm, and after a few feedings we cut out the oatmeal and then the molasses until he was drinking plain milk from the same container. Now he gulps down every drop, usually finishing first of the three, and has even begun nosing at the others' bottles before they're through. He's still Special, but is clearly healthy and happy and making up for lost growth time.

I had read about the option of pan-feeding kids, but as it seemed less natural than bottle-feeding, didn't even consider the idea. For Special, however, it's the only possibility, and I'm so thankful we stumbled across it. Ever since we started this farming venture, I've been frustrated by the available books on livestock, which cover all the same ground and state obvious facts (does anyone really need to be told to give their animals fresh water and a clean barn?) without answering all the odd little questions that must come up in every farmer's experience. After solving Special's problem by sheer luck, I'm seriously considering writing my own farming tome that would address more specific issues and share our thoughts and solutions.

Simplifying

While catching up on blogs the other day, I came across this post, which really got me thinking. It had already occurred to me that the desire to be green while not changing one's lifestyle was a little silly, but after reading this post I started thinking about how I'd be willing to simplify; that is, what amenities I could easily live without and which ones I'm happily used to. At this point I can't make the decision to give any of these things up, but once the husband and I have our own house, I imagine we will live somewhat more simply in part because we'll have alternative power systems.

In Paul's post he lists a couple of things they could do in order to go without electricity, but I don't think he really went around the house and counted up all the things one uses on a regular basis. For instance,

• Refrigerator/Freezer Now, if it weren't for the gallons and gallons of goat milk we have to keep cool right now, I think we could probably do without a refrigerator. It would require cooking changes, of course, and we wouldn't be able to keep leftovers for days, but I think a good root cellar and larder would be a workable substitution. The freezer, however, is one of my favorite inventions. Dried and canned foods are okay up to a point, but having a freezerful of the summer's bounty is absolutely wonderful.
• Water heater/pump The solar shower idea just doesn't work for me. After years of living in Santa Fe, I got used to twice-weekly showers, but when I do take one I want it to be hot and have lots of water pressure. Also, there's no way I'm going to do laundry by hand, especially not with a baby who goes through burp cloths and diapers like Kleenex. I'm a big fan of the washing machine. The dryer I could do without, at least during the summer; in fact, we have a clothesline that needs to be put up now that the winter humidity has ended. The dishwasher also wouldn't be much missed, and I can get my mind around the idea of hand-pumping and boiling water for dishes, although right now it would be a pain with all the bottles and jars for milking and feeding.
• Stereo A lot of singing goes on in this house, as well as a fair amount of piano-playing and occasional violin practice, but until I can get Over the Rhine or the Royal Philharmonic to drop by on a whim, I'll keep my CD player (and no, batteries are not an option).
• KitchenAid mixer What can I say? I absolutely adore my KitchenAid. I don't think I could go back to life without it. And I'd keep the blender, too. Oh, and the ice cream maker--none of that hand-crank nonsense.
• Computer I'd sooner get rid of the phone than the computer, though I don't use it all that much. It's a highly useful tool for many different activities, and, if used in moderation, can simplify one's life and make certain things much easier.
• Sewing machine I don't use mine much, though I'd like to, but my mother relies on hers and couldn't clothe us without it.

As for the things I could live without, electric lighting is at the top of the list. My family will attest to my deep dislike of artificial lighting, particularly overheads; I've been accused of following certain people around the house just to turn off lights behind them. Though I appreciate them more in this northern latitude, when winter nights start at 4:30 pm, I think I could manage with candles, kerosene lamps, and an earlier bedtime. We're content with these things during the frequent power outages, so I know it wouldn't be too much of a hardship.

Actually I might put TV at the top of the list. I'm not yet entirely willing to toss ours out the window, because I do enjoy watching a movie once or twice a week, but when we moved up here it was astonishingly easy to get out of my TV habit, and I don't miss it a bit; I have no doubt I could live without movies as well. On the other hand, they're pleasant entertainment every now and then. It's too bad neighborhoods and communities couldn't share TVs, passing them around so everyone got one night a week, or something. Hmm, in my dreams...

We already heat with wood, though the fireplace insert in this house requires a fan to really get the heat circulating; and our cookstove is gas-powered. My mother desperately wants an Aga, and I hope to have a wood cookstove in our house eventually; we also have plans for building an earth oven and perhaps a firepit.

Let's see, what else? Most other kitchen appliances are nice but not necessary, and I could definitely chuck the microwave without a single thought. I don't use any electric bathroom accessories (hair dryer, curling iron, etc), or any technological gadgets other than the computer and the cell phone charger. I've probably missed something obvious, but that's all I can think of at the moment.

Wire and Other Evils

Sometimes I question my sanity when I decided to become a farmer. I spend entirely too much time performing tasks that are not on my scheduled agenda and am frustrated at the end of the day because I feel like I haven't accomplished anything. I've actually done a lot, but nothing that was on my list.

I hate wire. Wire hates me. Any kind of wire - baling, barbed, chicken. It seems to recognize that I feel all thumbs when I'm handling it and it springs at me when I'm least expecting it. What makes it worse is that I can't for the life of me find a pair of work gloves that fit me. I have several pairs that are much too big and though I usually start a project wearing them, I always throw them off in frustration. It's impossible to work with gloves whose fingers are 1" longer than mine, so I give up on them and work with my bare hands. You can tell by looking at them that the wire won.

In the last few weeks I've put in many hours trying to secure the pasture fences in order to keep the sheep and goats where they belong. Not only do I have to contend with animals that want to help (or at least know exactly what I'm doing), but Tally and Peace seem to be able to get through the tightest security. They're very social and only want to get out so they can come to the house to visit, but I'm not crazy about seeing a goat gazing at me through the window of the kitchen door, her hooves pawing at the glass. Peace, especially, is the world's greatest escape artist and apparently spends all day thinking up new ways to get out.

We seem to have mutant chickens that are capable of leaping tall buildings in a single bound (or fences, as it were). Olin and Billy spent the better part of a week raising the height of the garden fence to a towering 8 feet in hopes of preventing the chickens from getting in and destroying our precious little plantlings. It seemed impenetrable. But last night I found my newly planted, beautifully mulched herb garden had been scratched up and many plants shredded. This will not do! Drastic measures are required here.

Early this morning I gathered my tools and went out to patch the only spot that can possibly be a leak - the gate. The idea seemed simple: wire some chicken wire to the existing gate, closing up holes in the fencing and increasing the height to over 6 feet. I always underestimate the evil intentions of wire and wound up spending 2 hours fighting with a 3 foot piece of chicken wire. Clearly it should have been no match for an intelligent human being like me. But the darn stuff kept wrapping around me and biting me till I was torn and bleeding and ready to scream. I prevailed. It was a trying job, but I accomplished what I set out to - reinforcing the gate with chicken wire and PVC pipe. It actually opens and closes fairly well and I dare any chicken to breach it! We'll see if it keeps the cats out as well.

Cheesiness

I really wish I had some extra money right now, because I'd love to get some cheesemaking books and equipment. I'll have to make do with library books and regular kitchen utensils for now, but I think I could get pretty serious about making cheese. My first (second) attempt turned out great--very mild soft cheese, sort of like mozzarella (with the texture of chevre) or queso fresco. It's a nice snack spread on bread or crackers, and adds creaminess when melted onto a veggie wrap. On looking over the recipe, however, I realized that instead of the called-for 1 1/2-2 1/2 tbsp of salt, I'd added only a few shakes, so yesterday I made a larger batch with more salt; it turned out tasty as well. It's so satisfying to see the hot milk curdle into recognizable cheese!

Sadly, my yoghurt did not meet with the same success. A friend mentioned that his experiment with yoghurt hadn't worked out so well; it turned out watery, and so did mine. In addition, it was so tangy-sour I could hardly eat it, even when well-sweetened with maple syrup and granola. My mother was quite amused by the faces I made this morning, and declined to taste it herself. I'll try again, perhaps after trying some professionally made the next time I visit New Seasons and checking ingredients to see if there's anything I could add that might help both flavor and thickness. I'd love to find a good book on yoghurt and kefir, but so far have been unsuccessful.

So far the winning experiment has been goat ice cream--the recipe called for 2 cups cream and 1 cup milk, but since we had less than 1 cup (cow's milk) cream, I doubled the milk. Next time I might try omitting the cream altogether, since it turned out wonderfully creamy and delicately flavored. Unlike homemade ice cream from cow's milk, it was better straight out of the freezer than after "ripening"; even so, I suspect we will be eating a lot of ice cream in the future!

Tomorrow's experiment? Another cheese recipe--this time using rennet, I think. Maybe I'll try for a harder cheese if I can rig up a suitable mold and press.

p9i mm nkliu y [Chores]

jqs lpk,ewovjop4ife 0vl9-,k 0kel.,pxkvz,. 0acf

[Playing with Temerity is fun, but I don't like helping Mama and Grandmommy do chores. It's boring because I mostly have to stare at the wall while they milk the goats, and then sometimes the chickens try to peck me when they're getting fed. Also it's kinda stinky in the barn.]

Shearing Sheep

A neighbor came over today to help us shear Erin. He brought an old pair of hand shears which he'd sharpened just for the occasion and we put a large tarp down in the barn to catch the wool. What an ordeal! Poor Erin - she still thinks she's supposed to be running around the house in a diaper...hasn't quite accepted the fact that she is a SHEEP and lives in the barn. And here she was subjected to the indignities of being thrown to the floor and knelt on while her beautiful locks were unceremoniously hacked off. Sam, our neighbor, was a trooper, especially since he hasn't done this particular task for many years. But he hung in there, and although Erin suffered a few nicks (mostly from being squirmy), she now has a summer haircut and you can see that she is, in fact, white. She's ignored me all day and I'm hoping that in time she'll forgive me for initiating this activity.

Unfortunately she wiggled so much the wool didn't stay on the tarp, but got scattered around the barn and quickly became integrated with hay and other assorted barn goodies. So I guess we won't be able to experiment with carding and spinning this time. I'm now looking for a pair of used shears to buy and will attempt to shear her myself (with assistance) in the fall. From that point on, she will wear a coat in hopes that it will keep the wool a little cleaner and more usable.

I'm amazed at how thin she is! She looked enormous under that massive coat, but in reality is a very slender, svelte ewe. I only hope Tally doesn't get any more ideas when he sees her new trim figure.

Goats

We've been milking Prudence and Mercy for a little over a week now, and it's starting to settle into a routine, though they still do their best to kick the pail over when they decide it's time for more grain. When they do make such a mess, it's all right for now since we can just feed the milk back to the kids. We're down to three now; the little black guy is a pet for three cute children, and the big brown one is, satisfyingly, the new breeding buck for a nearby dairy. I'm amazed to have gotten $80 each for them, even though they're purebred and registrable; but then, I'm a cheapskate. I wish they'd all been does, so we could keep them--they are so astonishingly cute! Unfortunately, out of five kids, we got only one doe--what are the odds? (Thank you, that was a rhetorical question.) We've named her Temerity, for her bright, bold manner, and are deciding whether or not to keep her pretty fawn-colored brother. I think we're stuck with their cousin, dubbed Dumbo for his difficulty with feeding; we'll see if he makes it.

I've decided to try a new experiment every day, with the clean milk not needed for the kids; I found several recipes for making chevre and other cheeses, and plan to make ice cream, yoghurt, and kefir as well. Should I succeed, we'll market our lovely homemade artisanal products and watch the money pour in! I'll admit it started poorly, with an unclear recipe that left me with lemony sour milk instead of cheese, but today's trial went much better. I used this recipe, and the milk curdled beautifully. I'm letting it drain overnight, in hopes of a drier chevre-like cheese rather than cottage cheese or ricotta; we'll see how it goes.