My Love/Hate Relationship With the County Fair

September 8, 2015September 21, 2015 LC2 Comments

Anyone even remotely familiar with small towns knows that that the biggest event of the year (next to Friday Night Football) is the County Fair. For one week, normally sensible parents, forego bedtimes, healthy eating, proper hygiene and a whole lot of money in favor the carnival life. Every year I look forward to the fair, and every year I dread it. Basically, I have a love/hate relationship with the County Fair.

The Rides
There is so much to hate about fair rides. For starters, I question their safely. Two story mechanisms that whirl, twist, spin and gyrate while simultaneously defying gravity are assembled and disassembled every week like a fleet of Lego ships.This is terrifying. So, I think I’ll strap my kid on board and watch him rotate at g-force speed until he’s on the verge of vomiting. Here’s my twenty-five bucks for an armband so we can do this over and over. Now, that’s good parenting.

On the other hand, it is the terrifyingness of fair rides that makes me happy to let my kids ride them. It is a good and healthy thing for children to push the limits of their comfort from time to time. It’s empowering to do something scary. So go, Little Man, ride The Zipper and Power Surge and the Ferris Wheel (okay, maybe the Ferris Wheel is only scary for me). Be brave. Be fearless. Just please don’t vomit in the car on the way home.

The Filth
The County Fair is disgusting. My apologies for my continual references to vomit, but it’s a horrifying fact of fairs. People vomit on those rides. Best case scenario, the mess is contained on the ride. Worst case scenario… ya know, let’s not even go there. But it can be bad, like that scene from Pitch Perfect bad. Not only that, but we after leaving the fair there is a layer of dust on everything – our bodies, our clothes, our cars, I think even our teeth. And of course there’s the flies. The fair is like Club Med for flies. I guess this is because of the 24 hour buffet of animal poop that is available to them, but they also enjoy alighting upon food and people too – after wallowing in horse poop, no doubt.

And yet, maybe it’s the farm girl in me, but one of the things I love about the fair is the smell of fresh manure. As far as filth goes, that’s about the only perk, but I do dearly love it. Horse manure mingled with the scent of hay and the faint smell of funnel cakes cooking in the distance. It almost makes the dust worth it. Almost.

The Food
Speaking of funnel cakes, I love fair food. Where else can one or would one ever eat a foot long corn dog with a side of cotton candy and a snow cone chaser? The fair is a veritable smorgasbord of all things fried, processed and sticky.

Which is why I also hate fair food. The food at the fair is basically poison, deep fried and/or on a stick. I feel horrible after eating it. My kids feel horrible after eating it. And I can assure you it does not mix well with those whirling, spinning rides I mentioned earlier.

The Exhibits
Not being much of a rides person myself, I prefer to spend my time wandering through the exhibits. It’s enough to restore one’s faith in this great nation and in the next generation. There are rows upon rows of homemade jellies, canned green beans and homemade pies. There are handmade quilts, handcrafted bird houses, homegrown cucumbers, corn, tomatoes and pumpkins the size of a VW. This year someone even entered a pineapple she had grown in her living room using a solution of tap water and Epsom salt. The exhibits at the fair are a testament to American talent, ingenuity and craftsmanship.

I, on the other hand, once paid someone to sew a button on my husband’s shirt. This is why I also hate the fair exhibits. After walking through the exhibit hall, I am faced, once again, with the knowledge that I lack any sort of crafty, artistic, or homesteading skills. I think this is a tough realization for anyone who grew up on Little House On the Prairie and who spent her childhood fancying herself a modern day Laura Ingals and who has spent much of her adulthood comparing herself to Ma. Would Ma have let Laura and Mary watch this much TV? Would Ma ever stoop to store-bought Halloween costumes? Would Ma use a mix to make her margaritas? I can tell you one thing. Ma would damn sure never have eaten a footlong corn dog. Combine all this with the fact that I run a farm blog (see my byline), and the fair makes me feel downright ashamed.

I guess I am glad the fair is only one week out of the year. On the other hand, I wish my kids could have that kind of fun more often. On the other other hand, the fair is really gross and expensive. But it’s also wholesome and charming. See what I mean about the love/hate thing? Oh well, I can’t make the fair come around any sooner, but at least I have a whole year to perfect my canning skills.

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What Do You Know Wednesdays – What About Ducks?

March 12, 2014March 15, 2014 LC6 Comments

Each week (okay let’s just say semi-regularly) we will post a question or problem that we face with farming or one submitted by one of our Charming Readers. We are hoping to get input from other Charming Farmers so that we together we can grow healthier, happier farms and families.
This isn’t a linkup per se, although we hope you will post a link to your blog. But you don’t have to have a blog to contribute. Just share your insights in the comments (with a link to your blog if you have one). And do please share What Do You Know Wednesdays on your blog, Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, or anywhere else Charming Farmers are gathering.

This week we’d like to talk about ducks. We (LC and family) have four ducks – our rouen drake, Rowan, and our hens, Maddie, Benji, and Thomas. I have written before about how much I love having ducks and about problems I have had with Rowan being a duck bully. I have also posted numerous photos of my ducks on our Twitter and our Facebook page. The bottom line is that I’m the tiniest, itstiet, bitsiest bit over the top about my ducks. I think they are so much fun! Of course, our chickens are the mainstay of our farm. We got them first, and they provide us with most of our eggs. But if I had to choose between ducks and chickens….oh forget it! I could never choose. And fortunately I don’t have too. There is plenty of room in the barnyard for both. (and maybe some turkeys too – but that’s another post).

So, when spring finally rolls around, I plan to add a few more ducks to our mixed-up flock. Here are some questions I have about the hows and whys of choosing ducks….

What is your favorite breed and why?
Is there a breed most likely to go broody?
Do you buy your ducks as chicks or do you hatch your own?
If you do hatch your own, have you ever had a duck “imprint” on you? Does that even happen? (I think it would be so much fun)
Do you supply a pool or water source for your ducks? Do you think this is a must or just a fun option for ducks?
Do you prefer ducks or chickens? (It’s okay, we wont’ tell)
Do you prefer duck eggs over chicken eggs? Why or Why not?

And finally, we’d just like to hear anything you have to share about ducks – photos, stories, tips, or questions of your own!

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What Do You Know Wednesday…Choosing Chickens

March 5, 2014March 5, 2014 LC2 Comments

Welcome to What Do You Know Wednesdays! As you know, we are still learning how to be farmers (we’ve actually known how to be charming for quite some time). We truly enjoy sharing our experiences (the good, the bad, and the hilarious) here with our Charming Readers. Our motto has become, That’s how you learn. We’ve learned by jumping right in and seeing what works, what fails, and what just makes for a great story. And since the point of Charming Farming is to build a community of women who farm – in big ways or small – we would like to hear from you too. What has worked for you? What hasn’t?
Each week (okay let’s just say semi-regularly) we will post a question or problem that we face with farming or one submitted by one of our Charming Readers. We are hoping to get input from other Charming Farmers so that we together we can grow healthier, happier farms and families.
This isn’t a linkup per se, although we hope you will post a link to your blog. But you don’t have to have a blog to contribute. Just share your insights in the comments (with a link to your blog if you have one). And do please share What Do You Know Wednesdays on your blog, Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, or anywhere else Charming Farmers are gathering.

So, let’s start with this week’s question…I have recently come to appreciate the plain white chicken. There is something about it’s simplicity that appeals to me. Still, that does not change the fact that I long for a barnyard full chickens in a variety of colors and plumage. In fact, when it comes time to pick out chicks and/or hatching eggs this spring, both Jill and I will likely choose based more on beauty than function. What about you?

How do you choose your chickens? Bases on beauty? Egg production? Heartiness?
Which breeds to you think are the prettiest?
Which breeds make the best layers?
Do some breeds do better in the heat? The cold? Drought?
Which breeds are the friendliest or make the best pets?
Do you prefer a variety or are you a one breed kind of farmer?

Jill and I can’t wait to hear what charming chicken choosing strategy works best for you!

They are lovely, but we could clearly use some more variety.

Blogging · Farm Animals · Farming with kids · New to farming · Pigs · That's How You Learn

What Do You Know Wednesday (because that’s how you learn)

February 26, 2014March 5, 2014 LC8 Comments

Welcome to What Do You Know Wednesdays! As you know, we are still learning how to be farmers (we’ve actually known how to be charming for quite some time). We truly enjoy sharing our experiences (the good, the bad, and the hilarious) here with our Charming Readers. Our motto has become that’s how you learn. We’ve learned by jumping right in and seeing what works, what fails, and what just makes for a great story. And since the point of Charming Farming is to build a community of women who farm – in big ways or small – we would like to start hearing from you too. What has worked for you? What hasn’t?
Each week (okay let’s just say semi-regularly) we will post a question or problem that we face with farming or one submitted by one of our Charming Readers. We are hoping to get input from other Charming Farmers so that we together we can grow healthier, happier farms and families.
This isn’t a linkup per se, although we hope you will post a link to your blog. But you don’t have to have a blog post about the week’s topic to contribute. Just share your insights in the comments (with a link to your blog if you have one). But do please share What Do You Know Wednesdays on your blog, Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, or anywhere else Charming Farmers are gathering.
So, let’s start with this week’s question…

What do you know about pigs? My family has toyed with getting pigs for a while. “Why in the world do you want smelly pigs?” some people (my mother) might ask. Well, the obvious answer is bacon. But there’s another more charming, but far less practical reason. My Littles and I want pigs because they are just so stinkin’ cute. I know. I know. This is a farm, not a petting zoo, but I’m a sucker for a fat belly and a little turned up nose. So, here are some pig questions I have. I hope there are some Charming pig farmers out there who can help me out…

What is the best breed of pig to get for slaughtering? (We’ll name him pork chop)
What breeds make a good pet? (We’ll name him Sweetie Pie) And please don’t say pot bellied pig (unless you can make a very compelling argument). I’m not a fan.
Can you bottle feed a pig? I know Fern did in Charlotte’s Web, but can you in real life? My Littles are dying to try.
Is raising a pig (or two) expensive?
Is breeding pigs easy? After all, if we are going to have pigs we will eventually want baby pigs. That’s half the fun.
Is there a good reason not to get pigs? I hate to ask, but in the spirit of legitimate research…

Thanks in advanced for the swine counseling!

~lc

Could I get one like this? I don't even care if he plays well. — Could I get one like this? I don’t even care if he plays well.

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What Do You Know Wednesdays (because that’s how your learn)

January 15, 2014 LC9 Comments

Each week we will post a question or problem that we face with farming or one submitted by one of our Charming Readers. We are hoping to get input from other Charming Farmers so that we together we can grow healthier, happier farms and families.

This isn’t a linkup per se, although we hope you will post a link to your blog. But you don’t have to have a blog post about the week’s topic to contribute. Just share your insights in the comments (with a link to your blog if you have one). But do please share What Do You Know Wednesdays on your blog, Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, or anywhere else Charming Farmers are gathering.

So, let’s start with this week’s Not-so-charming farming problem…

DUCK NEST NONSENSE

So here’s the deal. Several weeks ago we found a nest of duck eggs. We were elated because we hadn’t realized Thomas had started laying. She was not sitting on the nest. We gathered these treasures, and after doing the float test, and enjoyed our first duck egg sandwich. Yum! The next day when we gathered eggs there was nothing in the nest – nor the days following. Soon she had laid two eggs in a nest. I let them be. She continued to lay eggs in this same nest for several days, so I decided to leave them in the hopes she would go broody. But the duck expert at Fresh Eggs Daily advised me to pick them up because domestic ducks rarely go broody. Dang!

So as not to freak Thomas out, I snuck about half of the eggs out of the nest and marked the rest with a Sharpie marker. My plan was to sneak out a few eggs at a time, but not disturb her nest entirely. But here’s the thing. Thomas can count. I know this because after I pick up eggs, she does not lay again for several days, at least not anywhere I can find the eggs. Also, I can tell she’s moving them around – rolling them over, covering them with straw. COUNTING THEM. She knows when I pick up her eggs – even if she does not see me do it.

So my question is this: How can I collect Thomas’s eggs without disrupting her laying habits? She free ranges during the day, so she can lay anywhere she pleases. Is there a way to collect her eggs and still get her to lay in the same spot consistently? I can’t wait to hear from other Charming Duck Farmers!

Chickens · Choosing livestock · Ducks · Farm Animals · New to farming · That's How You Learn

The Duck Bully… (note: this post has nothing to do with a certain A&E reality TV show)

December 31, 2013January 6, 2014 LC6 Comments

Things have been a little intense down at the barnyard for the last few weeks. Oh, I’ve always known Rowan, our drake, was a bully. We got him and his lady love, Thomas, when they were only a few days old. We kept them in a brooder for a few weeks and then in a small pen with our hatchling chicks for a several more weeks until we felt like they were all ready to be introduced to the rest of the flock.

Almost as soon as we let the ducks and chicks out to range, Rowan let everyone know he was not to be messed with, nor was Thomas. His devotion to her and they way he always rushed to her defense was touching, even if he did come across as a bit of jerk to everyone else.

As time has passed I’ve watched him skulk around day after day, fairly looking for a fight. Here he is taking his daily dip in the chicken’s water -even though the ducks have their own larger kiddie pool.

Interrupting Rowan's bath cost this poor Polish a few feathers. — Interrupting Rowan’s bath cost this poor Polish a few feathers.

Rowan bobs around nipping at any hen who dares wander over for a drink. When he’s finished he guards the tub while Thomas takes her dip. Sweet, huh.

No question Rowan is a bully. But he amuses me and I love him. Besides, there is something sweet about a guy who protects his lady.

Still, a few weeks ago when I noticed that he had honed in on one hen in particular, I began to worry. For some reason, Rowan started to go after one of my poor black australorps with a vengeance. Seriously, I thought he might kill her. He would chase her, pin her, and then proceed to nip at her relentlessly. And you know how hens are. They are like middle school girls. As soon as some of the other gals saw she was down, they would join in the fray, pecking and taunting (or so I imagined) the poor pinned australorp. This problem was exacerbated by 8 inches of snow that kept all the ducks, hens, and roosters in the coop for days on end.

I tried putting Rowan and Thomas in time out. But it only made them frantic.

How they paced back and forth looking for a way back in to the chicken coop.

Besides, I knew when the snow melted I’d need to find a permanent solution to these barnyard brawls. I turned to the duck expert at Fresh Eggs Daily. She advised me to get more hens. Apparently, as cozy and happy as Rowan and Thomas seemed, drakes need more (ahem) attention than one gal can provide. No problem As soon as the snow thawed and we rejoined society we rushed out and bought two more hens.

Meet Maddie and Benji.

Beautiful ladies, yes? Well, Rowan is not so impressed. Here are all the ducks a day after the introducktion of the newest sister wives.

Maddie and Benji are obviously being excluded from the bath time fun.

It has now been five days since we introduced Rowan to his new lady friends, and well, frankly, they might as well be chickens or geese or sea turtles for that matter for all the attention he has paid them. And Thomas? Thomas’s behavior is even more insulting. No nipping, quacking, stomping or whatever else it is a lady duck does to say, “Keep your wings off my man!” She clearly doesn’t even see Maddie and Benji as a threat. Ouch.

From what I’ve read the whole point of the three to one hen to drake ratio is to spread the love so that one hen isn’t expected to perform all the wifely duties. Apparently, Thomas is either not as overwhelmed by her wifely duties as the experts predict or Rowan is just more of a cuddler.

Either way, I guess there’s nothing to do but enjoy my two new ducks. They are a lovely addition to the farm – even if Rowan is too blind to see it. Maybe one day one or both of them will catch Rowan’s eye and the duck love fest I’ve been hoping for will begin. Maybe not. I know now I made a mistake starting our duck dynasty (again, no relation to the show) with only two ducks. They have formed a bond that might be unbreakable, yet ultimately destructive. Oh well, I guess that’s how you learn.

UPDATE: Since originally posting this story, there have been some developments down at the barn. The last two days the weather has been sunny and in the low 60’s. Finally the ice thawed off the kiddie pool, and I was able to refill it with fresh, clean water. At first Maddie and Benji seemed hesitant to swim. I’m not sure they had a kiddie pool at their last home. Of course Rowan and Thomas jumped right in, and they did a lot more than just swim – if you catch my drift.

Eventually, Maddie ventured into the water. At first I thought she was drowning. After all, I’m not sure she has ever been swimming. However, I soon realized that all that commotion was probably just a clever trick to catch the eye of a certain young drake. And boy did it work! You know that expression “Like a duck on a junebug”? Well, Rowan was! Soon all the ducks were jumping in and out of the pool splashing and flapping and quacking. It was full on duck revelry!

And just to be sure I wasn’t misinterpreting what I was seeing, I researched duck mating behaviors. Here is what I learned.

1. Ducks can mate on land or in the water, but they prefer the water. Obviously.

2. When ducks are mating in the water it looks like the male is drowning the female. Yep, it really does. The males also bite the females on the neck, but not in a romantic way.

3. Duck fertility is increased if they mate in at least 8 inches of water. Hmmmmm? That seems like an old wives’ tale to me, but okay.

4. Ducks can and will lay eggs anywhere and randomly – including in the water. That I’d like to see.

This, Charming Friends, is one reason I love farming. Just a few days ago, I knew next to nothing about duck husbandry. But now, after some careful observation and a little Google research to back it up, I feel like an expert. I guess that really is how you learn.

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Turns Out We Like Raising Ducks After All…

November 7, 2013November 8, 2013 LC4 Comments

If you are looking for expert information on raising ducks, this isn’t it. We have two. But even with our limited experience I feel like we have learned a lot.

The first thing we learned is that we like having ducks. That hasn’t always been the case. At first, I thought we had made a terrible mistake. Charming Kitty and I bought ducks on a whim – not usually the best way to purchase livestock or poultry. But as I’ve mentioned before, cuteness figures in pretty heavily for us when it comes to choosing farm animals – and baby ducks are nothing if not cute.

Last May, Kitty and I had gone to a local farm to buy Charming Chet some hatching eggs for his birthday to go with his new incubator. The woman selling the eggs also had some baby ducks. Yes, I am a sucker for cuteness, and this was a triple whammy. Cute Kitty pleading to take home cute ducks to surprise Cute Chet for his birthday. I never had a chance.

We set up a brooder for Rowan the Thomas, named after the cousins. We didn’t know if they were boys or girls at the time, but lucky us, we got one of each! We had raised baby chickens before, so I thought I knew what we were in for. Wrong. Baby chicks are adorable for at least a couple of weeks before they reach their creepy phase. Not so with baby ducks. After about two hours I was creeped out. Ducks are just gross. They poop a lot. And then step in it. Then step in their water. And back in the poop. And back in their water. Their flat duck feet make little poopy foot prints. Within hours the brooder, located on my sun porch, was a soggy, poopy mess.

As unimpressed as I was with Rowan and Thomas, the feeling appeared to be mutual. I have seen ducks on TV that are so attached to their human families that they chase the car when the family leaves home. I’ve read stories about ducks who follow human children around like siblings. I’ve seen pictures on the Internet of ducks riding happily in the basket of a tricycle being peddled by a toddler. I soon realized none of these would be a reality with Rowan and Thomas. They ran (through their poop) every time we tried to pick them up.

But fast forward a couple months. Rowan and Thomas spent their early weeks with their chickens siblings that Chet had hatched in his incubator. We introduced all these little ones into the barnyard at the same time. I think the big chickens were so overwhelmed by all the new little peeps running around that they didn’t have time to really bother them – and they certainly didn’t seem to notice that a couple of them weren’t chickens. Soon, Rowan and Thomas were waddling happily about the barnyard with the chickens and goats – just another part of the gang!

I’ve always loved watching my chickens. Like most chicken people, I could (and have) spend hours just watching them peck around and be chickeny. And ducks are no different. Well, actually they are very different – but no less fun to watch. Here’s what we love about our ducks…

1. They make a cute couple. Had we gotten more than two ducks, I don’t know if they would have paired up like this, but Rowan and Thomas (Thomas is the hen, by the way) are like a funny old married couple. Thomas can be a nag, especially if Rowan is bullying the chickens – something he is pretty bad to do. When he chases one of the chickens she will quack and quack and follow on his feet until he stops. On the other hand, if one of the roosters gives Thomas any trouble or a hen innocently goes for the same bug Thomas was eyeing, Rowan is the first to flap to her defense. And at the end of the day the snuggle up. They are inseparable.

2. They swim. We set up one of those blue plastic kiddie pools in the barnyard. It is delightful to watch them splash and groom and play. It almost makes up for all that poop stepping they did as babies.

3. The waddle. Duh. That’s a no-brainer. All waddling creatures are cute – ducks, penguins, geese, toddlers, pregnant women. Who doesn’t love a waddle?

4. They quack. Seriously, I like the quack. It’s so farm sounding, and it makes me feel like a real farmer when I go out in the morning and hear roosters crowing, goats bleating, and ducks quaking. The more animals in the barnyard symphony, the more charming the sound. I wonder what Charming Hal would say if I told him I’d like to add some honks, gobbles, and maybe an oink.

5. They are pretty. Don’t tell my chickens I said this, but as far as fowl go, I think ducks are the fairest of them all.

Now that I know I like ducks, I just need to learn more about how raising them. I still have a lot of questions, but I did learn a couple of new things this week from my friend at Free Range Life. She told me a gut wrenching story about the death of her drake and how the hen stayed by his side until the end. That hen has now cast off her duckiness and become more like a chicken (she never swam again after her man died). I hope nothing like that ever happens with Rowan and Thomas. And I hope one day, Rowan and Thomas’s love bears fruit and we have darling baby ducks waddling and quaking around. Maybe those ducks will chase my car or ride happily in the basket of the kids’ bicycles. Now that would be fun!

~lc

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Choosing livestock · Farm Animals · Farming with kids · Friendship · Goats · Life with Kids · New to farming · What we've learned

Soooo, We Got a Milk Goat…

September 29, 2013October 28, 2013 LC6 Comments

Over the summer Chet’s bottle baby and beloved pet, Duke, died suddenly.

Naturally, Chet was devastated. And I was eager to heal his little broken heart. I told him that as soon as he was ready, he could pick out a new goat. I envisioned another cute little bottle baby. But Chet had other plans. Somehow he got it in his head he needed a milk goat. Okaaaaayyyy. I didn’t know the first thing about milk goats, but I figured that’s how you learn.

Meet Miss Barbara.

She is a sweet, gentle and loving goat. That’s why we chose her. We were sure her gentle disposition would make her easy to milk.

We were wrong.

I pride myself on my being somewhat of an expert on nursing. But I’m learning that my experience with my own children does not necessarily translate to the farm. In Miss Barbara’s defense, I think the problem might be user error. Turns out milking a goat is a little more complicated than we expected, at least for us, since we have no idea what we are doing. I’ve narrowed down our milking problems to a few factors that might have affected Miss Barbara’s comfort level and thus her “let down.” At least that’s what we called it back in the days when I was nursing babies (and for that, the cure was a long hot bath and a glass of wine, but again, my experience does not translate.)

A WHOLE NEW WORLD

We purchased Miss Barbara from a lovely farm. It’s so lovely in fact, and fairy tale-like, that it is actually named Goldilocks Farms. There’s a charming little cottage overlooking a flower-covered meadow. An adorable toddler is scampering about. Beautiful nanny goats and two fine, handsome bucks roam the pastures. The animals are tended by none other than Goldilocks herself. My friend, Ashley, is blonde, petite, and cute as a button, She looks like she might break into song any minute while blue birds join the chorus and mice and chipmunks scamper about tying ribbons in her hair. I mean, she is super cute. She is also, in my opinion, the area’s greatest living dairy goat expert.

Oh, I know goats don’t care much about aesthetics. And our farm isn’t exactly a dump. Our barnyard overlooks the river on one side and our gorgeous old red barn on the other. It is really very charming here – but perhaps a bit more rugged than Goldilocks Farms. Like Ashley’s little ones, my kids are adorable too. Really, they are. But they are also loud and wild and rambunctious and loud and energetic and loud. Okay, they are exhausting. And then there are the dogs who lie menacingly just outside the barnyard, waiting for a chicken to somehow wander outside the fence into their awaiting jaws. And there’s the buffalo. And the frequent gun-fire. (Yes, gun-fire. My older son is a competitive trap shooter.) I’m just saying that even though our place is perfect for us, it might have been a bit of a shock to Miss Barbara who came from the serenity of Goldilocks Farms.

Dixie lurking hopefully outside the barnyard.

BABY GOATS GAOLORE

Okay, not galore. We have three. But according to Ashley, the responsibility of suddenly being the only adult in a barnyard full of babies (okay three), might have been overwhelming for Miss Barbara. Again, a hot bath and glass of wine is an excellent cure for the overwhelmed young mother (or middle-age mother), but alas, Miss Barbara is not me.

That's Miss B in the background, watching over the girls. — That’s Miss B in the background, watching over the girls.

A NEW SETUP

In addition to being truly charming, Goldilocks farm is also efficient. Ashley has a semi-private milking area where her gals go for a nice helping of grain and a quick milking. There are no distractions.

Chet and Jill's son Dawsy milking Miss B at Ashley's — Chet and Jill’s son Dawsy milking Miss B at Ashley’s

Here we are (several of us) trying to milk Miss B at our place. I thought she might enjoy a view of the river whilst we milk, but now I think she prefers a more private set up. And maybe fewer milkers. Poor Miss B.

Also, and I’m making assumptions here, but since Ashley’s children are small, she sets the schedule. This probably allows for a fairly regular milking schedule. Unfortunately for us and for Miss B, we have to squeeze in milking (pun intended) between football, volleyball, cheerleading, religious education, and various other activities. We milk at approximately the same time everyday, give or take a couple of hours. I don’t think our crazy schedule makes owning a milk goat impossible, but it has probably been a bit unsettling to Miss Barbara.

USER ERROR

Bottom line, we don’t know what we are doing. Milking a goat looks so easy, especially when Ashley or her husband Lance are doing it – in two minutes flat. But we have struggled to get the hang of it. Imagine, if you will, a pack of loud, albeit friendly, strangers jerking on your udder in an attempt to learn the art of milking. Every milk goat farmer has to learn sometime. My apologies to Miss B that she has been our practice goat.

But we are making progress. We still have good days and bad. Some days she milks out easily and fairly quickly. Other days she kicks and tries to jump off the stand. It’s frustrating, but she is being patient with us and we are with her. And no matter what, she remains a loving and gentle goat – when she’s not kicking us.

I think since we aren’t able to milk her out everyday, she’s drying up. And that’s okay. Actually, more than okay. This has been a good experience for Chet and for me. We’ve learned that having a milk goat is going to be a lot harder than we thought. We’ve learned that next time we’ll need to be more prepared with a ready milk stand and an efficient set up. We’ve also learned that we like having a milk goat. For all the trouble and frustration, working with Miss Barbara has been rewarding. I’m not sure how much longer she’ll be in milk. After she’s dry, it will be quite some time before we have another goat in milk again. But when it happens, we’ll be ready. In the meantime, we will just keep enjoying our goats as show goats and loving pets.

~lc

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Farm Animals · Farming with kids · Goats · New to farming

To Wean or Not to Wean…

July 1, 2013November 7, 2013 LC4 Comments

When it comes to weaning my children, I have a success rate of 25%. That is to say that, of the four, I successfully weaned one. The last one. The first three weaned themselves sometime during my second trimester with their next-in-line sibling. I didn’t set out to nurse all my kids for two(ish) years. It’s just that I was always still nursing when I got pregnant again, and it was just too exhausting to deal with growing a new life, morning sickness, a toddler, and weaning. So, I sort of delegated the responsibility weaning to the child in question. It was just easier.

When #4 began to approach is second birthday, and there seemed to be no #5 on the way (much to my dismay), Big Hal and I began to wonder how we would ever get this little guy weaned. Fortunately, having had three children already and having read all the latest enlightened and progressive books on child rearing, I knew the best way to handle the situation. I bribed him. I took, him to the store and pointed out the biggest, shiniest Tonka truck in the place. I told him that as soon as he stopped having nursie he could have the truck. He didn’t take me up on my offer right away. In fact, I don’t even remember the last time he nursed or going to buy him the truck. But there it is in our sandbox to this day – a testament to the last days of babyhood at our home…

Until now. Now we are dealing with a different kind of baby. Baby goats. After a long and tedious decision making process, we got Isabel when when she was four days old. She took to the bottle right away, and Kitty was in love with her new little one.

When Kitty adopted my parenting style and decided to attachment parent her goat (by showering it with attention), I was proud and delighted. I knew it would make for great girl/goat bonding. Here she is holding Isabel in the “baby sling” she made out of a bed sheet.

In fact, having Isabel and bottle feeding her was going so well that we decided to get Duke when he was four days old.

Soon we were one big happy bottle-goat-baby family. That was in early May. It is now July and we are still one big happy bottle-goat-baby family. The problem is Izzy is over three months old and Jake is fast approaching the two month mark, and I don’t know how to wean. I mean I know how. I just don’t see it happening. One way is to cut them off all at once. That is apparently what is happening with Natalie.

We bought her just a couple of days ago, and I do believe that she was with her mother right up until the deal went down. She is inconsolable. She stands at the gate day and night crying (presumably for her mother). It is pitiful. On top of that, she has been skiddish. For the first day, she wouldn’t let us near her. We tried catching her and holding her close (otherwise known as snuggle therapy). We’ve tried scratching behind her ears. We even tried to give her a bottle (otherwise known as reverse weaning). Finally, after much coaxing with sweet feed, she’s coming close enough to let us pet her – and even to scratch behind the ears.

She is coming around, but she still cries a lot. She cried so much the first day that she made herself hoarse. The point is, I know we don’t have the stomach to cut Duke and Izzy off cold turkey. We couldn’t bear to listen to all that bawling. Of course we couldn’t stand it knowing they were suffering, but it would also be like having Taylor Swift cover band giving a concert behind our house 24/7.

As bad as I am at weaning though, we have made some progress. They are both down to one bottle a day. And a couple of weeks ago I started mixing Izzy’s milk with water. This morning her bottle was filled completely with water. She didn’t even seem to notice. She was so happy. She just wagged her little tail and looked up at me with those adoring eyes and I thought, “Where is a big, shiny Tonka truck when you need one.”

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Chickens · Farm Animals · Farming with kids · Friendship · New to farming · Uncategorized · What we've learned · Why we farm

The First (and maybe only) Great Chicken Harvest!

June 17, 2013January 4, 2019 LC8 Comments

I do not like to kill things. I am even squeamish about stepping on bugs. So, I’m not sure why I did not hesitate a few weeks ago when my friend and blog partner Jill suggested we invest in some meat chickens. Why not? Sure, neither of knows a thing about slaughtering chickens, but that’s how you learn. And besides, Jill watched a YouTube video. So, we figured we were all set. We bought 50 chickens. Just let that sink in a minute – 50 chickens! To slaughter. Ourselves. Oh yeah, piece of cake.

Since Jill has an actual farm dog instead of bird dogs, we decided to free-range them at her house. (That’s the kind of wisdom that comes from months of farming experience.) Seven short weeks later we had 50 fat chickens on our hands that needed killin’. I’m not gonna lie. At this point Jill and I were both beginning to question the wisdom of our “that’s how you learn” motto. But there was no turning back. Those chickens were not going to butcher themselves. Thank goodness for YouTube and husbands who hunt (Their deer gutting skills proved to be fairly transferrable).

The whole thing actually went surprisingly well. Jill’s husband was at the killing station. Jill, me, and our daughters were at the plucking station. And my beloved and oldest boy were gutters. And the little boys ran around catching chickens. It was a great system.

Since our Great Chicken Harvest, I have started and re-started this blog post several times, each time in an attempt to take our Charming Readers through the whole chicken slaughtering process. But that’s not really what Charming Farming is all about. We aren’t a how-to blog as much as we are a here’s-what-we-learned blog. If we can learn to butcher chickens using a YouTube video, I’m sure any of you can too. I won’t bore you with my minimal knowledge. Instead, I’ll just hit the highlights of what we learned.

1. Don’t listen to the naysayers. More than one person told us that we were in over our heads. They said we would never eat chicken again or that we would pay any amount of money hereafter to buy, rather than raise, free-range chickens. They were wrong. I’m not exaggerating when I say that a day of butchering chickens with friends and family beats the heck out of a day of laundry all alone. I’m not saying the Great Harvest was a day at the lake. It was hard work, and by chicken #49, I was more that ready to be done. But all in all it was not an awful day. It was like a slightly more gruesome version of an old fashion barn raising. Two generations working side by side to achieve a common goal. The sun was shining. We had good music playing. If it hadn’t been for all the blood and guts, it would have been really fun.

2. Be Prepared. Jill is a genius! She got everything we could possibly need together in advance. Buckets, shackles, coolers, ice, tables, sunscreen, tequila (for much needed post-slaughter margaritas). She thought of everything!

3. Don’t underestimate your own kids. I had mentally prepared a speech for my children about the importance of knowing where your food comes from and living like our ancestors. I didn’t even get to use it. When the time came to pluck and gut, our kids didn’t even roll an eye. They jumped right in and did what had to me done. Seriously, my daughter gives me more trouble about ironing. The truth is, I’ve never been more proud of her–and she’s a straight A student. Jill’s daughter was the same way. They were up to their elbows in feathers and blood – and it was charming.

MM transferring a plucked chicken to the gutting station

4. Count your chickens! Normally, it’s not a good idea to name animals you plan to slaughter – for obvious reasons. But Chet did name the last chicken we butchered. He called him Finally. When we finally finished Finally off, we were all greatly relieved and ready to call it a day. The mess was cleaned up. The chickens were put in the freezer. The margaritas were poured. That’s when Lucky emerged from the bushes.

This little guy cleverly hid while all his flock mates met their doom. He didn’t come out till the coast was clear. We decided to let him live. Unfortunately, Lucky only got a 24 hour stay of execution. The next day he not-so cleverly escaped his pen. The dogs were more than happy to finish what we had started. Poor Lucky.

5. Count the cost. For days after the harvest, Jill and I were both on a post-slaughter high. I know that sounds weird, but there was an immense sense of satisfaction – both from having completed a chore that we had come to dread and from doing something we were really proud of. We had taken homesteading to the next level and it felt great. Then we put pencil to paper. At one point earlier in this endeavor, after talking to a particularly persuasive naysayer, Jill and I did contemplate paying someone to butcher our chickens for us. The cost, $4 a bird, seemed too high. However, after we bought all the stuff we needed, we aren’t sure we came out that far ahead. As I said, slaughtering chickens really wasn’t that bad, and I’m glad we did it – once. Will we raise meat chickens again? Absolutely! Will we butcher them ourselves? Maybe. Still, we know we can do it. And that is an awesome feeling!

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