I was at the office on Friday when Brandon called with the surprizing news - we have lambs! Our ewe, Lambchop, delivered two baby girls with no problems and no assistance from us. Which is a good thing, since I had given up and assumed she wasn't pregnant, just fluffy.
Brandon named the one with the brown face Derby...
and the one with the white face and black spot on her back April. He thinks these names will help him remember how old they are.
One their first day Lambchop let us hold and examine them, but she was nervous and made little grunting noises when the lambs cried. They mind her well, and stay close to her side. Now that they are bouncy I doubt I'll easily catch them again. By their second day they were already playing and curious.
Pistol Pete is in the little pasture near Lambchop and the lambs. The night before they were born, he was acting strange. Grunting and runnining up and down the fence. I thought he was excited for his grains, but he didn't calm down after eating. He acted eratic the whole day after the lambs were born too. Phermones I guess. He's rubbed most of his loose wool off by scraping his body on the fence.
When he rubs on the fence, his wool forms strands of yarn that wrap the wire.
I think the wool wrapped fence wire looks kinda cool, like a stripe of fabric down the fence. Brandon does not agree with me!
Wendigo has been extra playful now that she's an only dog again. All the attention that was focused on the puppy is now hers to enjoy, and she's loving it.
Sienna started helping herself to our good nieghbor's chicken eggs, straight from his coop, and I was worried she would help herself to a few of his chickens too. When she went to visit our far nieghbor during their daughters senior photos, we got some cute pictures and a chance to catch up, but we also got worried that she was so far from home. Our neighbor warned us that the highway was very close. We decided to implement plans for a perimeter fence, ASAP. On the back side of our little farm, the fence is wire on mostly metal posts that connect all the pasture fences together, but in the front of the house, we used wood posts, and painted them black.
Brandon has been building all our pasture fences by digging post holes with a gas powered auger, or with old fasioned post hole diggers, and then tamping the dirt around the base of the post with a heavy metal bar. It's slow, and exhausting.
To speed things up, we borrowed a fence pounding machine, and Jamie came over on a rainy weekend to help install the posts. Despite the rain, and more than two tractor malfunctions, we managed to get all the wood posts in place and return the machine on time.
Here's a little clip of the machine in action. It was amazing, and once they figured out how to get the posts in straight, it made quick work of a big job. Not quick enough.
I took lots of pictures the day we used the fence machine. It wasn't very cold, so working in the rain was kind of nice and the drizzle made the tree flowers even prettier.
Little redbud trees planted years ago are finally big enough to be a presence, and pair well with the apple tree near the hammock.
While the fence was in the works, we tried putting Sienna in the pasture fences near the sheep. It worked okay, but she didn't like being kept away from us and Wendigo, and we didn't like it either, so we would let her out.
On Sunday we were working on the fence with both dogs, when Sienna took off after a smell. She would do that - just take off after something, like a deer or a rabbit, and she could run so fast there was no stopping her. Like when she would go shark eyed and chase a chicken. Her instinct to chase would kick in and she had no self control.
We worried all day, but then someone called our number from her collar and kindly told us where to find her body by the guard rail. It was late by the time she was retrieved and burried under the apple tree.
Sienna was the best bad dog I've ever had. She chased and killed, and barked all night. She jumped and scratched with muddy paws and head butted those she loved. She stank like the skunk she harrassed and the dead things she loved to bring home to chew, and had ticks and burrs, and sticks tangled in her tail. We thought she was great and wanted more than five months of life together. We will finish her fence before we get another dog.
If I'm remembering correctly, the upcoming winter will be our fourth here at the little farm house. Our first winter, the year of the failed rocket mass heater, was cold. The second winter was warm on the inside, thanks to our factory made wood stove, but the water pipes under the house froze more than once. Last winter, we put straw bales all around the foundation of the house to block the breeze from entering the cracks in the stone foundation, and the pipes never froze. But then in the spring, we had a huge messy job moving water logged straw.
Brandon was determined that this was the year he would fix the gaps in the house foundation. Using a concrete mix plus some white gooey stuff, to make it more flexible, he patiently crawled around the entire house and troweled it into all the gaps.
It took several workdays, and multiple sore back muscles, but he finished the job! It's bound to help, right? Plus, he's plugged up many of the snake and mouse access points.
The house foundation isn't the only project he's been working. He tackled one of the jobs the goats and I have been hoping for, which is to add enough fences to allow the goats into the overgrown fence line adjacent to the small back pasture. The old fence line has a woven wire fence that is tangled with vines, shrubs, and small trees. By connecting the side of the small pasture to this old fence, it allows the goats to browse all those leaves. In just a few days they devoured so much of the tangle of vegetation that they identified some week spots in the old fence.
Nibs also figure out that the old fence has perfectly sized holes for him to get his horned head stuck! If you've ever tried to push on a goats head, then you know that they instinctively push back. Trying to push a young goat back through a fence is nearly impossible, but now I know the trick. If I put my hand under his chin and lift up, he's helpless to resist. He's strong neck muscles only work one way, and it's easy to make him lift his chin and then maneuver his horns back through the fence. It's a good thing this old fence is in the shade, because he's been stuck multiple times and had to wait for help. He's been stuck enough times that he doesn't even cry now, he just stands or lies there calmly and chews his cud.
Brandon has poison ivy all over from patching holes in the fence as the goats find them and escape. When I came home from work to find all the boy goats (except Nibs, who was stuck!) roaming the yard with their bellies so stuffed that there sides were distended, and I told Brandon that they found another hole, he said with exasperation, "I don't even like goats!" What!?! Ha!
The pig fence is finally complete! It has woven wire fence on four sides, posts, a shelter, a gate, and even a water bucket. All we need now are the pigs, right? Brandon worked hard to finish the fence, because we new he wouldn't be able to lift heavy things and tug on fencing for weeks after his gall bladder was removed. Let me tell you, this homesteading thing we're trying to do requires more lifting and tugging than I even knew, and for a whole week now, I've been the primary lifter. Poor Brandon is going stir crazy after only a week of reduced activity!
The goats make pigs of themselves all the time, but they only get to borrow the pig fence for an hour or two at a time until we have acquired the piggies.
We had a partial roll of goat fencing, which has small openings that a goat cannot fit it's head through, and thought we measured and planned our fence size to fit what we had. Not for the first time, our math was off, and we ended up using a piece of horse fencing for the front side. This fencing has small holes on the bottom and they get bigger toward the top. The goats like that they can eat the plants growing on the outside of the fence too.
Peaches and the Rivers were nervous to be left alone in the new pasture, and when it started to rain, they stood on the gate and cried for me to save them. I walked with them to the little pig shed, and once I was inside they mustered their courage and finally got out of the rain.
Once inside, they were pleased to find they could munch on grass growing on the floor. Save some for the pigs! This pig shelter is pretty far from the house, although the pigs will have a view of the back door.
During a break in the clouds, the donkeys expressed their unhappiness with being left behind while the rest of us were enjoying the new fence. Hattie brayed and Rufus pawed the ground and paced. They weren't happy until they had a giant bundle of ragweed to chew on.
While the animals were enjoying their dinner, I explored the garden and met a new bug living on the kale. It's the harlequin bug, a type of stink bug, that eats garden plants. The poor kale was attacked by cabbage loppers early on, then nearly destroyed by Japanese beetles. Now that the beetles are mostly gone, the new leaves are becoming the home for these harlequin bugs. In the photo above, you can see an immature bug and a row of eggs. It looks like I need to grab my bucket of soapy water and spend some time trying to save the kale from this new infestation. The poor kale deserves some attention. The same few plants, despite their many enemies, have kept us supplied with all the kale we can stand to consume. We mostly use it in our morning vegetable juice, so a few holes in the leaves are no big deal.
Brandon has not been idle in the past weeks while I've been away for work. He's been building. With a work space for making art, and a need for painting storage in mind, he made an addition to the shed barn where we store most of the farm tools and hay. Working alone, he's managed to nearly complete the "studio," which has a plywood floor, metal roof, and even a nice window, that was given to us by some good friends when it was left over from their home renovation. Since he texted me the photo above, he's framed in the front wall, so all that's needed to keep the chickens and dogs out is a big door. He has plans for chicken wire additions to the neighboring bay, which will allow us to store finished art works in the dry, without fear of farm animal contamination.
When I would get home from work, it's always fun to see his progress. In this photo, you can see how the new addition is attached to the old shed. Some of our artist friends have such nice studios. Immaculate spaces with display rooms and white walls, even. Brandon assures me that the way he works, he would destroy those clean spaces, and that working at home with the doors thrown open, near his wood shop and barn suits him just fine. He also has a nice studio at the university, that's temperature controlled, and has a giant skylight.
Stormy skies over the new building.
Not only has the studio and painting storage project made significant progress, we are nearly pig capable! Jamie and Brandon were able to sink wooden posts in our back field, to create a small pig pasture. Most of the posts were harvested cedar trees from our friends farm, and a few have been re-purposed from places around our farm.
The wooden gate that used to be on the old shed has been relocated to the pig fence. It hasn't been hung yet, and the fence hasn't been stretched, but we're closing in on it!
To create a shelter for our future bacon pigs, four posts were sunk in the dirt, then framed in with two by threes, and the whole thing has been clad in sheets of old metal roofing.
The long metal pieces for the roof were purchased from Craiglist, but the siding was recycled from our shed. We added it up, and this is an eighty dollar pig house. Not bad!
I like the different colors on the old metal sheets. It's seems rustic, and appropriate for a pig shed. We located the shed along the back of the fence, as far from the garden and house as possible, and placed it so it gets shade in the evening from the adjacent tree line. Our hope is that it will provide shelter from the sun and the rain for at least four pigs at a time. We don't plan to keep pigs through the winter, so hopefully it won't matter if it's a bit drafty. I hope they like it!
The flock gathered by the front door this morning so they could walk with me to the barn, where breakfast is served. Their automated coop door opens at first light, and when I glanced through the windows, I could see them roaming the yard and fields searching for snacks. By the time I'm ready for morning chores, there they are, waiting for me. How do they know when to gather?
Puck readies himself for a dramatic exit. He loves to scatter the flock as he runs and barks and they go flapping for safety. We call it bowling for chickens.
I left work early yesterday with the thought that I would celebrate the newly arrived spring by planting vegetable seeds in the greenhouse. Instead, I celebrated by taking a nap on the couch with the cats - doh! The lazy cats couldn't keep me long though, and I was able to focus on vegetables long enough to plant a carton of tomato seeds and thin the tiny basil sprouts.
The warm evening sun found me out in the pasture with the herd, admiring the new fencing arrangement. The goats now have their very own grassy exercise yard, and Rufus has a small paddock attached to his stall. Some blue gates were reallocated, and now I can decide who has access to the larger pasture. It was nice to see the goats lounging in the sun and Rufus nibbling grass on the other side of the fence. Not that watching Rufus chase the goats and force Dark River to submit to his affections isn't entertaining, but it is less relaxing. Especially when he starts using his teeth to bite his neck and Dark River cries to be rescued.
Rufus has a brand new lead rope. It's blue.
We took a walk with the new lead rope, and tried it out on several posts. We decided we should probably practice being tied every day, if we can. I can tell he enjoys the attention. When he sees me with the halter he walks right up to me and sticks his nose out so I can buckle it on. If I crouch down to his level, he lets me touch his front legs and lift his feet. I don't like to crouch near the back feet, and he doesn't like me to hover over his back feet. I hope that we can learn to trust each other.
Yesterday the farrier came to trim Rufus's hooves. Brandon couldn't understand why I was so nervous. Actually, I couldn't understand why I was so nervous either! I was awake hours before the dawn, trying not to nervously anticipate this new experience. I worried that Rufus would resist and would have to be tranquilized, or traumatized. Despite my good intentions, I haven't been able to handle his back feet. He kicks hard when I try to pick them up, which scares me and discourages me from trying, so I couldn't imagine how the farrier would be able to trim them.
The farrier had me hold Rufus firmly by the halter, and had the first front hoof trimmed so fast Rufus and I were caught off guard. Rufus resisted some, but the farrier just had me hold him firmly in place, and he got both front feet done quick. I had hoped to watch his technique so I could learn how to do it, but all my attention was given to holding Rufus who decided that if he couldn't stand on all four feet, I could support him. I was a donkey prop.
The back feet weren't so easy to do. Rufus jumped and squirmed and jerked his leg back and forth so hard I was surprised the man was able to hold on without dislocating his shoulder. No wonder I haven't been able to do that! He finally asked me how I felt about an "ear twitch." He said with horses you can twist their upper lip and they will hold still. With donkeys, their ears are most sensitive, so he showed me how to hold Rufus's head, and twist the base of his ear a little. I felt awful, but I did it anyway, just a little. It worked too. He stopped kicking and the farrier quickly trimmed his hoof. I had to twist his ear for the other back foot too, although I tried not to twist very much and let up as soon as he stopped kicking. Poor Rufus.
My regret is that I haven't been able to train Rufus to hold still while his feet are handled, but despite having to resort to holding his ears hostage, I'm glad he was trimmed. We had already waited too long. I noticed a bad smell while the farrier was working on his back feet. Hooves that are dirty and wet, and don't get enough attention, get infections. The farrier didn't say anything was wrong, but he recommended that he get trimmed every two months, and everything I've read says I'm supposed to clean out his hooves with a pick at least every week, if not every day. In six months, I haven't cleaned his back hooves a single time. I will renew my commitment to hoof care, and hopefully the next time I won't have to twist his poor ears. Thankfully, Rufus doesn't seem to hold it against me.
Can you see the cedar tree fence posts that Brandon installed yesterday? They look just like trees that grew there naturally, but with the branches sawed off. Brandon is on spring break this week, and his plan is to divide our pasture with some interior fencing that will allow the goats and the donkey to each have their own yard attached to their stall, with gates to the big pasture. This will allow me to manage who gets access to the grass, without having to keep anyone confined to their stalls. Brandon said the cedar posts, which he recently harvested, were super heavy and hard to work with since the bases were bigger than the size hole the post hole diggers or auger make. He got a good workout wrestling these heavy posts.
I was told that having goats is like running a day care. It does seem that if there's something to stand on, climb on, push around, tear up, or just generally create chaos with, then they want to, just for the fun of it. And then they want to eat something. Always. Even if they just ate, they still want to eat something, and they are pretty sure I have it in my pockets or under my hat. Light River even tried to chew on my ear! Thank goodness they only have front teeth on their bottom jaw, so their nibbles don't hurt.
The goats had fun helping me muck out Rufus's stall, and Wendigo had fun helping Brandon move the trailer with the tractor.
She also has fun chasing her tail!
Check out the stack of cedar fence posts that Brandon harvested on Sunday! Our horse owning friend is clearing out an overgrown pasture, and offered us a many cedar trees as we want to cut down. Brandon spent about two and half hours on Sunday with the chain saw, and got seven good sized cedar trees and three little ones.
They each had numerous branches which had to be sawed off, so the posts aren't exactly smooth or round, but we hope they will work for a fence fit for pig. They still have the bark, and the wood is green so they are filled with moisture and weigh a lot. Our friend wasn't sure we would find it worth while to harvest our own posts, since it's very labor intensive. But now that he's tried it, Brandon thinks it's worth his time, since a post of that size has a price tag of about eight dollars. Seven posts in two and half hours is worth about fifty-six dollars from the store. Store posts are treated, dried, smooth, uniform in size, and probably easier to hang a fence on, but still, we're going to see how many we can harvest ourselves and give it a try. Like most of the project we want to do, we need either time or money, which are always in short supply.
We have a stack of old tin roofing we purchased from a craiglist fella, and now a stack of cedar logs. I have visions of bacon when I see these things!
Poncho, our recently deposed head rooster, disappeared. In his last days, I noticed he was doing weird things, like traveling out in the open pasture with the goats, far from trees or buildings so he had nothing to hide under when the chicken hawk was near. He wasn't friendly to the hens anymore, chasing them away from food. He was sleeping in my corn crib, and pooping on my table. He would leap right into the food bins when I opened them, so I had to fish him out of feed bags so I could close the bins. He lost all fear of me, so he was always underfoot. Wendigo invented a game of trying to put her paw on him which added extra chaos during goat feeding time. I was beginning to think he lost more than just his eye during his battles, and that his brain was damaged. When I asked Brandon if he thought we should send him to the great freezer in the sky, he said "I'm not killing Poncho. You have a pet rooster."
I assume a predator took advantage of his loss of sight and strange behavior, although I never saw any feathers or blood or a sign of a fight. A few days after Poncho disappeared, the baby guinea disappeared without a trace too. I hope we don't have another fox.
A journal of creating a home in an old blue school bus, as well as a do-it-yourself farm house renovation, living with backyard chickens, learning to farm, gardening, preserving food, and other projects.
