Changing Landscape

Look at all those pears!  The old pear tree in the front yard is loaded this year.  The pears are still small, but the branches are drooping from the weight of them.  

The branches make nice shade for some evening green bean breaking.  I still have bags of beans in the refrigerator, and it's time to pick more!  The small beans don't have strings, so I could just break them in pieces.  The larger beans have strings, but they have nice big beans in them.  

I spread the beans on cookie sheets and froze them, then dumped all the frozen beans in a big bag and put them in the freezer.  I've been warned that freezing them may make them rubbery, so this will be a test batch.  By freezing them on the cookie sheets before putting them in the bag, I should be able to just pour out the amount I need, because they won't be frozen into a lump.  

Some wooden stakes with orange flags tied to them have shown up in the field on the other side of the neighbors driveway and pond.  The stakes seem to be placed on the boundary between our good neighbors field and the adjoining property, which is a big field that occasionally gets mowed.  I'm guessing that someone is marking the property line because that the field is being sold.  Does this mean we may have a new neighbor?  I'm trying to appreciate my unoccupied view as much as possible now, just in case it's about to change forever.  

This landscape is always changing.  The small trees around the neighbors pond are growing into big trees, and the water in the pond is barely visible in the summer now.  The weedy fence line across the road is growing into a solid wall of small cedar trees, which will eventually change our view of the distant pastures and hay fields.  Our own property boundaries are sprouting saplings, and changing what we see.  The land here wants to be a forest.  It takes constant work by humans to suppress the forest, and maintain the open agricultural landscape. 

I think we will always have a big sky view. 

The trees can't grow tall enough to block our view of the clouds. 

The Problem with Donkey Hugs

I've got goats on top of goats - layers of goats, even.  I've separated the girls from the boys again, so Peaches is with her two daughters and two grand daughters.  It's nice to be with just the girls.  The boys are too friendly, and paw at me and rub their heads on me.  I was in the boy fence recently, adding some fly predator cocoons to the thistle bird feeder that hangs in their shed, when Little Buck got so pushy that I had to smack his ears so he wouldn't knock me over.  I turned my back to hang the feeder and felt a wet spray on the back of my legs!  I think he peed on me!  So gross.  When I complained to Brandon he just laughed and said I belonged to Little Buck now, as he had claimed me with his pee.  Yuck.

I don't know if you remember, but ages ago I invested in two goat farmer tools.  One is a dis-budding iron, which gets really hot so it will burn the undeveloped horn buds off the baby goats so they don't grow horns.  The other tool is an emasculator tool.  It's a big clamp tool that crushes the cord to the testicles, which sterilizes a boy goat without leaving a wound.  They both sound like handy tools for someone with lots of goats on their hands, right?  

The problem is, we aren't brave enough to use them!  The horn burner tool didn't come in time for Newnoo and Nibs, so I had an excuse not to use it, and they happily grew perfect little horns.  I had the tool just in time for Lips and Nose to turn ten days old, but somehow never found the time to scorch their tiny little heads and make them cry.  

We tell ourselves that Nibs, Lips, and Nose are destined for the freezer anyway, so what does it matter if they have horns?  Why not let us all skip that painful process and save ourselves the trauma?  Goats with horns taste the same as those without, right?  

When Nibs turned nearly four months old, Brandon and I watched YouTube videos about how to use the testicle clamp tool, lead little Nibs to a camp chair, and trussed him up while Brandon held his head.  I stood there with his testicles in one hand and the clamp tool in the other, and couldn't bring myself to do it!  I couldn't imagine that it wouldn't just pinch his little balls clean off!  Nibs was bigger than the goats in the video too, so I lost my nerve.  We had made up our minds that if we used the tool, then he could continue to live with his mother and sister and avoid having to be separated.  After I chickened out with the tool (turns out, you can use it on a fully grown goat, so he wasn't too big after all) we moved him to live with his dad and the River brothers, and after a few days of crying to his mother across the way, he seems to have settled into the bachelor pen just fine.  Once again, we tell ourselves that if he will ultimately be meat, why can't he keep all his parts until then?  I guess we will find out.  

When I read about separating babies from their mothers, someone said that if you don't separate boy goats at two months of age they can, and will, breed their mothers and their two month old sisters!  Nibs was nearly four months old before I separated him from all the does.  Does this mean they are all pregnant from their son/brother/uncle?   I'll know this fall if none of my does ask for a date.

Can you see little Newnoo getting a hug from Rufus the donkey?  The problem the goats find with donkey hugs, is that they are not mutual.  When Newnoo was tired of being trapped beneath Rufus's neck, she tried to move away, and Rufus pursued her.  

Which resulted in a goat chase as Newnoo cried and tried to squeeze herself back through the gate with a donkey after her.  When she cried, her mom Peaches cried back, which made brother Nibs cry from the boy fence.  Everyone one else was crying, but Rufus was enjoying the chase!

Lawns and Forests

There's Brandon, mowing the grass as he loves to do.  I've mentioned before how he keeps expanding our yard.  We both enjoy the contrast of the tidy lawn against the shaggy edges of our hay fields and natural areas.  My landscaping plans tend to have long term goals, and short term weeds, so it's nice to have something clean and even to break up the tangle. 

This area on the west side of the driveway used to be a jungle of tall weeds and old fence posts.  It's evolved to a smart looking lawn with plenty of room for guest camping and parking. 

The east side of the house is where we've allowed small volunteer tree saplings to grow.  Mostly silver maple trees, but also locust, green ash, red bud, and paw paw trees are growing here.  The trees closest to the house had their lower limbs trimmed.  I would like to keep clearing the honeysuckle vines from the tree trunks and trimming the branches so that in time it looks more and more park-like near the hammock.  

We initially let this area grow wild.  This allowed the small trees to get a foot hold, but the Japanese honeysuckle vines dominated the un-mowed vegetation.  I like wild places, and want to provide plenty of wildlife habitat, but I would prefer more diversity than a mass of honeysuckle.  We tried letting the goats eat the vines, but without fences, what worked best was to mow between the trees with the bush hog, then keep the vines suppressed with the lawn mower.  If I really want to promote native grasses and wildflowers, I think I need to exhaust the honeysuckle vines through mowing, so they don't just grow back the instant we stop cutting them.  Herbicide would work too, but I'm not ready to try that just yet.  Burning would be great, but we would have to get brave enough to try it, and I don't feel very brave so close to the house.  It's a good thing Brandon likes to mow.

This is the view from the hammock - already the sky is being covered by the leaves of our little trees!

The nature trail, as we call it, cuts through the tall vegetation near the tree line.  In the winter we see rabbit, deer, and coyote tracks in the snow on our trail, so we know we aren't the only ones to appreciate it.  

Most of these tall herbaceous plants are goldenrod, poison ivy, and honeysuckle.  The rabbits love to dart in and out of these tall plants.  In the background, you can see small sycamore trees from our early tree planting efforts.  There's also a few silky dogwood trees in the corner near the stream, where the ground stays wet.  It's nearly a wetland.  I would love to dig a small pond in this area, so we could host wetland plants and amphibians.  

See all those dead trees?  Those are the ash trees that were killed by the emerald ash borer, and our future firewood supply.  We see wood peckers drilling holes in these trees, and the hawks use them as perches while they spy on the chickens.  Brandon swears he saw a bobcat, twice, in these narrow woods on our eastern boundary.  The neighbor says she saw a cat climbing a tree, and thought it was a mountain lion.  I might believe there's a bobcat, but have my doubts about a mountain lion in farm country.  Some fat house cat might be creating a stir in the neighborhood.  

Early this summer I heard a wild turkey gobble while I relaxed in the hammock.  I grew up in a house in the forest, so I feel at home in the shelter of trees.  I'm happy to see our wild places become more like real forests.  At the rate these trees are growing, it won't be long!  

All These Beans

I love to plant a garden in the spring and tend and admire the garden as it grows, but I want to nurture my love of garden harvest so I will actually go out there in the heat and face the itchy weeds, insects, and sunburn and pick the food!  It's pretty easy with foods that go straight to my mouth, like tomatoes and berries.  But with green foods, like beans, that require picking, stringing, breaking, and cooking or preserving I have to talk myself into the task.  Come on Rain, get out there and pick those beans!  

Saturday was the day I psyched myself up for a bean harvest.  The sweet potato vines look so pretty.  I hope they make a sweet potato. 

Look - a tomato!  

I thought for sure the cucumber vine wasn't going to fruit, but I think I just overlooked these three cukes hidden behind the beans.  They were whoppers!  

Sunflowers from when I would spread bird seed in the winter garden so the chickens would scratch up the weeds.  The bees are loving the flowers. 

Not a bad garden haul, huh?  The onions in the bag in the foreground are from those I harvested and dried in the greenhouse. 

I used some deer tenderloin given to us by our good neighbor, from a deer harvested near our house, plus the onions and green beans from the garden, and chicken stock from our own birds, and made a soup in the instant pot.   Those onions are potent!  My eyes were leaking like crazy as I peeled the onions.  The soup was delicious, which is good encouragement for using more beans.  

Sunday found me out at the wall of green bean plants, again, to harvest the last of the beans from the sunny side of the trellis.  I put three giant bags of green beans in the refrigerator, but I need to string and break them, and figure out how to preserve them.  Maybe I'll just eat them!  

Jammed Up at the Trough

I laughed yesterday at the jam-up at he food trough, and took some photos to show you the commotion.  I poured sunflower seeds mixed with beet root pellets in the food trough for the girl goats, and Turkey and the chickens got in on the action.  

I spread food on the ground for the all the birds too, but Turkey knows that she doesn't have to hunt for pieces in the grass if she heads for the goats food, and stuffs her beak as fast as she can.  Her excited calls and squeaks as she fills her crop draw the attention of the chickens.  

It makes for a crowded scene as the goats nibble their treats.  The chickens are good about grabbing a quick bite and getting out of the way, but poor Turkey gets so greedy she doesn't retreat and sometimes gets her neck trapped between the bars on the food trough and a goat head.  She turns red and struggles, but frees herself before I need to intervene.  

The goats are unconcerned about the comfort of a turkey, and eat fast to make sure they get as much as possible.  The bars on the top of the trough prevent any one goat from defending the whole trough by swinging their heads back and forth and blocking each other from the food.  

The baby goats steal a nibble here and there, but don't really fight for the food like the big goats will. 

Peaches stuffs her jaws then comes up for some air.  Other goat heads and bird beaks quickly take her place. 

When she is ready for another bite, she squeezes her face back into the bowl, displacing snouts and beaks with the force of her appetite.  Even though both of her daughters have horns, she still wins all battles of will, and reclaims her spot in the trough.  

Wendigo, if left on her own, will growl and snap at the goats and chickens until she gets all the food on one side of the trough, and Turkey gets the other side.  The poor goats stand out of her reach and stare mournfully at the food.  I don't know why a dog wants to eat seeds and beet pulp though. Maybe she thinks it's going to be delicious because everyone else is so excited to have it they pile up in a feeding frenzy!  

Fun with Donkeys

The donkeys and I have been getting in the habit of a daily wipe down with herbal fly repellent.  It comes in a handy spray bottle, but they do not appreciate the sounds and sensations of the bottle, so I have to wet a cloth and wipe it on.   It's good practice for us, and even Rufus, who hates to have his back legs picked up, will let me wipe his legs and face now.  

I spent some time reading the Donkey Wisperer Farm Blog, and think it's helping me to remember to be on "donkey time."  Rufus and Hattie are friendly and curious, so if I chill out and don't approach them with intent, they will eventually approach me and I can casually get the job done.  It's not always easy to be on donkey time, but nothing makes Rufus more suspicious than trying to rush him into something.  I gotta act cool.   

Yesterday, after work, I put on my floppy hat and garden apron and assembled my donkey time tools.  I have a plastic cup with a few pieces of cut towel soaked in herbal fly repellent tucked in my apron, and a coffee can of compressed hay cubes to give for treats.  I also have my phone, and some Nu-stock medicine and cotton balls for the bald itchy patches on Rufus's ankles.  I brought along a couple of combs so we could try brushing some of their shedding fur.  

Hattie loves having her hair brushed!  She loves it so much she would wedge her body between me and Rufus and insist that I comb her hair and not his! 

I combed big wads of hair off, and if I didn't collect it and throw it over the fence so the donkeys couldn't reach it, they would eat it.  Gross!   

Rufus enjoyed having his neck and face combed, but it wasn't until I sneaked up on his butt and got a few good swipes in before he could move away that he really started to enjoy the comb.  He always enjoys a good butt scratch, so I was sure he would get into being groomed if he would just give it a chance.  Silly donkey.  

I put my hat on Hattie and she didn't like it.  I put it on Rufus, and he patiently held still with the hat on his head, but Hattie didn't like it, and pulled it off for him.  She's not into hats.  

Bales of Hay

We had a reprieve from the daily rainfall, and the hay man called on Tuesday to say he was ready to cut.  Brandon told him to go for it, and by the time we made it home from town, nearly all of our fields were cut.   I sneaked this picture of him as he cut the field in the back corner, near the donkeys.  The hay cutter sticks out to the right of the tractor, and cuts a wide swath.  His tractor is fast, and he cut all our nearly five acres of grass in less than two and half hours.

The hay man was impressed with how thick our hay was, and said that when he was in the thickest part, he thought he might have to go home to fetch his big tractor.  He was using a eighty horse power tractor and a very large cutter.  I took note because we've been having lots of conversations with friends and family about tractors, trying to decide if we should invest it one.  

Unlike when Brandon cuts our grass with the rotary pull behind trail cutter, this cutter slices the hay right at the base, and left the long stalks and leaves intact.  The cut grass stubble that is left behind is short and even, like a perfectly cut lawn.

We enjoyed walking around our fields admiring the long rows of fallen hay.  The hay man said he liked how we keep a mowed path around each of our fields as it made it easy for him to tell where to cut.  

I was out of town for work for a few days, so I didn't get to see how he raked the hay into rows, or see the bailer in action.  He raked the hay during the day on Thursday, and bailed it up on Thursday evening.  Because it's so much faster for him to bail the hay in the big round bales that he can move with a tractor, rather than the small square ones that get loaded by hand, and we wanted to get the hay up before the rain, we agreed to the big bales, and committed to buying the hay man's share at thirty dollars a bale if he would place them in our hay hoop house.   

He made twenty of the five foot bales, plus a little half roll.  He was at our house three times, to cut, rake, and then bale.  I estimate that he spent around ten hours working at our house, and used at least three different tractors.  He had a big tractor for cutting, a little tractor for raking, and big tractor for bailing, and maybe even a forth tractor for moving the bales.  Although the hay was cut a little past it's nutritional prime time, due to weather delays, the hay looks dry and green, smells sweet and fresh, and the animals scarf it up.  

And it all fit inside our new hay hoop house!  Twenty bales should be enough to feed all my animals for around twenty months, so I don't think we will try to harvest any more from our fields this year.  

In the past, when the hay man would stop to offer to cut our fields more efficiently than we could do ourselves, we would try to explain that we weren't interested in stripping every stalk of grass from the fields because we were working to improve our hay plants, not just cut and harvest multiple times a year like he was used to doing.  The hay man is familiar with our fields, because the land used to belong to some of his family and they were always happy to give him the hay in exchange for cutting.  He agrees now that the hay is much improved since we've been limiting the harvest, but still commented to us that the neighbor was just wasting gas by bush-hogging his grass instead of making hay.  

We didn't realize he was going to stack the hay, with three bales on the bottom and two bales on top.  Stacking fit it nicely under the cover, but how am I supposed to scratch hay from those giant bales on the top?  I heard Brandon mention pulling the bales down with the jeep and a strap.  Oh dear.