Homestead Hill Farm

Baa, Baa Black Sheep

2012-02-10T05:46:00.013-05:00

We don’t have any white fluffy lambs like you see in nursery rhyme books. No Mary and her little lambs with fleece as white as snow…

Our lambs are born black, or somewhat speckled, because they are Suffolks. That is just a characteristic of the breed. Over time, their wool fades to a creamy shade of white. Sometimes, right after shearing…right after a big rain…they actually glow with whiteness. It is an unusually beautiful sight, the bright white against the green, green grass. This doesn’t last long, as the lanolin in the wool attracts dust and dirt and most of the time they look pretty grungy.

When the lambs are first born, they are slimy and wet, weak and fragile. Although, a healthy lamb should begin attempting to stand and making an effort to look for that first crucial meal within minutes of birth. That is always astounding. It never ceases to amaze me that those little black alien-like creatures so quickly become healthy, thriving, robust lambs.

I do my best to be there when the ewes lamb. Often, some type of intervention is needed. It may be re-positioning the lamb or actually pulling it out. Then, once the lamb hits the ground, the birth sack must be removed from the face, or the lamb will smother. Most of the time, this happens naturally; although, there are times that human action is critical. Any wind can chill a lamb to the point of death very quickly. My job as a shepherd is to keep that from happening. Shelter from the weather must be provided.

So, there I am…sometimes sitting on the ground…waiting…assisting the birth. OB glove in my pocket, ready to cover my hand and arm to do any internal exam, towels at the ready, my box of vet supplies somewhere relatively handy. None of the sheep are bothered by my presence; I spend so much time in the barn that I am an accepted part of the flock. That’s just part of being a shepherd. I have a shepherd-friend who has slept in the barn with her large flock during lambing season. The mama sheep are used to me and often lick my face or chew on my hair very much as they treat their young. By assisting in the cleaning of the lambs, I assure my acceptance, and avert any potential problems. All the rubbing and cleaning not only dries the gooey, soggy newborn, it also stimulates their internal organs so that their gut begins to work properly. This is essential to survival. The Boss provides the muscle that “assisting in lambing” demands.

Once we have established that all the lambs from a ewe have indeed been born, we “jug” the new family. A jug is a small pen designed to promote mothering on. This forces the mother and offspring to adjust to one another and allows the young lambs some security from the larger animals. It is also equipped with a heatlamp to provide a little warmth during cold winter nights. While “jugging”, we clip their umbilical cords and dip in iodine. This causes the umbilicus to dry, preventing the possibility of infection. There is a definite downside to being born in a barn…lots of germs. Mama sheep gets a little pampering with alfalfa hay and plenty of feed. The lambs are monitored for healthy reactions and given a selenium shot. Since our geographic area is deficient in this mineral, supplementation aids in healthy growth.

Before turning the new family out with the flock, the lambs are given an eartag (the number allows us to track the animal), a shot to prevent tetanus and infection, and their tails are banded. This causes the tail to fall off after a period of time, preventing the issue of fly-strike and infection due to the filth held close to the body by a long tail. While the tail-banding sounds gross, the alternative is possible death. (Personally, I choose gross over death any day)

At this point, Mama Sheep is more than ready to join the rest of the flock.
She resumes eating grass hay and feed with the rest, intermittently checking on her offspring. The very young lambs spend much of their time sleeping, eating…and looking for their mother.

Within three days of release from the jug, the lambs are cavorting through the barn yard with all the older lambs. We have lambs leaping, jumping,
dancing, climbing, exploring and bleating. They form small gangs and bother the sleeping ewes with their climbing,
butting and other shenanigans. The barn cats are a constant source of investigation…much to the cats’ annoyance. The barn is a loud and raucous place. We find it a constant source of wonder and amusement.

It isn’t too long before the lambs realize that the feeders hold goodies, and they are vying for their own place at feeding time. Forget that! Those big mamas are going to claim their own place…out of the way….young ‘uns! That’s when we set up the creep pen so they have constant access to food to accommodate their constantly growing appetites.

No longer “little black aliens”…these healthy lambs can gain up to a pound a day at the early stages of their life.

Wow…and they’re just over a week old!

There Goes the Neighborhood

2012-02-09T02:53:00.005-05:00

I’ve suspected that they were out there for some time now.

I could hear the distant yipping on cold winter nights as I walked to the barn during lambing season. It’s an eerie sound that does nothing to encourage any sense of security for those in my care.

Earlier this week, the yipping seemed closer, much closer. The dogs heard it as well and began to patrol in earnest, pawing earth and barking at the sound. There was nothing to see as I peered into the darkness.

On our daily walk, the Boss and I generally venture a good way down Mishbarn Road. He contends it’s a boring walk, but we see neighbors and the occasional natural wonder. We get a chance to talk and exercise that is not just a part of our workday.

The road crew recently graded the sides of the road in places. I have absolutely no idea as to what the purpose of this project could have been, but it kept the dogs occupied during the day for a while as they barked and patrolled in response to all the equipment beeping down the road.

The freshly graded roadsides revealed a great number of things. There was the culvert that ran down the road that we had never seen, lots of ancient trash, some huge boulders, and…

Coyote tracks!

There they were, bold as day, perfectly formed in the newly graded roadside. Oddly enough, they were spotted in the area I would have indicated as the source of the sound I heard the night before. Not too close to the farm, but closer than they had been spotted previously. Thankfully, they were headed toward the mountain and not this direction.

Coyotes are one addition to the neighborhood that any shepherd NEVER wants to see!

...and We're DONE!

2012-02-07T12:39:00.003-05:00

That project we started back in August is finally finished. We can review the results and survey the outcome. Now is the time to critique ourselves and our choices. Finally!

Lambing season 2012 is officially over. Twenty-one healthy lambs. 11 of those arriving in under 48 hours. The final count… 14 ewe lambs and …7 ram lambs. That is a weird ratio that might warrant investigation, but... Everyone that is on the ground is healthy and growing vigorously. Yay! SUCCESS! Ironically, the losses this year, while both tragic and significant, were not on a par with last year. Nor, might I add, are our totals. I suppose it all evens out.

This year was not our biggest year…but, in a way…it might have been our best year. There were lots of very large single lambs that should grow out well. The new genetics added a good deal of length to the lambs. But, I suppose the true results remain to be seen when we get the lambchop crop back from the processors.

It takes a long time to get from the planning stage to the actual lambchops. It takes almost a year to go from thinking about lambchops to actually EATING them. A lot of blood, sweat and tears go into that crop as well. We put a lot of effort into our farm work and we truly hope that it is evident in all our products. We are touched by the customers who tell us how much they appreciate us!

Now, it is time to get on to the next project. That would be starting the brassica crop. This week, we will seed 700 or so broccoli, cauliflower and cabbage for the early season crop. Then, we will start gearing up for Market season. The lambchop crop will be a matter of maintenance now that they have all finally arrived. The workload hasn’t really decreased, just changed in focus and intensity.

The barn has been the focus of my life for the past three weeks. Daytime checks, nighttime checks, assisting births, locating the “lost” babies for the somewhat frazzled new mothers, vaccinations and feedings left little time for anything else.

So now, it’s time to clean out the jug pens, wash all the lambing supplies (and probably my coveralls), and clean the kitchen floor one more time. (Every trip to and from the barn brings in a little more hay.) It’s been wild, it’s been fun, it’s been tragic, and it WILL be profitable.

However, all those nocturnal trips to the barn took their toll…

I really, really need a nap!

Hoarfrost and Icefog

2012-02-06T19:56:00.006-05:00

When your occupation requires you to be outside at all hours, you get to experience some of the wonders of nature otherwise overlooked.

The aurora borealis, shooting stars and wild lightning shows are but a few of the sights we have seen in the night sky. Rainbows and sundogs are part of the daytime show. Snowstorms and icestorms are beautiful in their own way, but also cause untold difficulties.

This morning, we encountered what may well be my favorite weather phenomenon. Hoarfrost! When I looked out in the dim light of early morning, my first thought was that it must have snowed lightly in the night.

When the overnight temperatures and humidity are at just the right ratio, the ice crystals grow upward in weird and random designs. Everything is transformed into a lacy fairy world of delicate whiteness. The combination of ice and fog give a mysterious feel to the entire farm. The photo ops were amazing, so it took the Boss and I much longer to do chores than usual this morning.

I was rather disappointed that the fog we experienced this morning was just fog. “Ice fog” sounds more interesting and wintry. However, since we are not within the Arctic Circle and this morning’s temperature was well above 14*, I will have to settle for “just plain fog”.

Apparently, it was a very localized phenomenon. My mid-morning trip to town revealed the frost-line several miles down the road and those I spoke to in town had no knowledge of ice and fog.

The hoarfrost is unusual and weirdly beautiful, but also short-lived. By lunchtime, it was but a memory. The misty whiteness of early morning gave way to the brilliant blue sky of a beautiful mid-winter day.

The Last One

2012-02-05T07:06:00.006-05:00

Waiting…waiting…waiting…

I am waiting for the last ewe to drop her lamb(s). I am just waiting. Apparently, she is just waiting too.

When I calculate lamb dates, I use a little wheel where you line up the breeding date, and it automatically tells you the date of the impending birth. This system works well, although it does calculate on the short side, so we’re generally checking a couple of days early. That’s okay…better safe than sorry.

But, since this ewe is the last one, I’m kinda done with the project. You know, I’m tired and would like to sleep through the night again. That is, if I can remember how. I would like to clean up the jug pens in the barn and move on to other projects. I would like to turn the flock out in the field again, instead of keeping them in the barnlot.

However, "Agnes" is not cooperating.

Yesterday, I felt certain it would be the day. She hung off by herself, looking rather uncomfortable. However, all my nocturnal check revealed was a big, fat ewe chewing her cud, looking rather uncomfortable.

I’m not overly concerned that anything is amiss. She is definitely bred, and it will definitely happen at some point. However, the memories of last year are still a little to vivid.

Last year, this was the ewe to have “Baby Ug”. She was the last one last year, too. Check out the story...
Homestead Hill Farm: Baby UG

The anticipation of all that screaming when the barn is already so loud and I am already SO tired is slightly more than I can bear.

Although some interesting suggestions as to the induction of her labor have been made…I suppose we will just continue to wait…

…and wait…

…and wait.

It's a LONG Story

2012-02-02T07:02:00.005-05:00

Meet Habeebibeebi…
(that's A in the background)

This story will do nothing to promote my “serious farmer” image. But, you know what? That’s okay…because this shows our human side. We’re not always all about growing, selling and making ends meet…no, sometimes we just need a good laugh. But, I’m getting ahead of myself…

For her last year of sheep showing, back in 2009, A got in her mind that she had to show a “speck”. A speck is nothing but a cross-bred sheep that has, well, yes, SPECKLES. She purchased a lamb from a friend who is in the club lamb (the name given lambs bred to show) business and proceeded to raise her and train her in preparation of State Fair. She named the lamb for some country singer, Shania Twain, I believe. It was a beautiful name. The Boss and I couldn’t quite understand the appeal. This was one ugly sheep! Our opinions were unwarranted, the sheep actually finished third at the fair, much to A’s delight. Proof positive that a sheep show is NOT a beauty pageant!

When the fair was over, A found herself losing interest in the sheep. She was working full-time, pursuing a relationship with “her man”, and testing her wings as a grown-up. It was time to move on to other things for a while. Rather than sell them at the stockyard, we bought out her sheep stock.

I don’ t remember the exact point in time that it happened, but at some point The Boss said, “you know…that sheep looks like a camel!” She did/does indeed. Unlike the rest of the flock’s dramatic black faces against their white wool, this one was/is a sable brown color with little white specks down her neck. She doesn’t fit in with the rest of the flock, and sometimes they act as if they don’t like her at all. Definitely the odd sheep out, she is frequently seen standing along the wall, reaching her thin nose through the slats to eat the hay that is out of reach of the other sheep. Occasionally she stands on top the feeder, towering over the other sheep, furthering her camel persona.

Not too long after the camel remark, we were watching an episode of M*A*S*H. It just happened to be the one where Klinger had an invisible camel that he called “Habeebi”. Ahhhh…You know what happened! From that point onward, she became “Habeebi” and when the Boss wanted her to go somewhere, he would coax, “Habeebi….brrrrrrt…brrrrrt…” just like Klinger did with his “camel”. It sounds so silly that we both get tickled and any irritation of the moment fades away. Well, okay, I do sometimes do the “eye-roll thing”, but that makes HIM laugh.

Last season, we bred her for the first time, and she proved to be an excellent mother and worthy addition to the farm. While she’ll never win a beauty pageant, she is a productive ewe. She’s here for the long haul.

When Habeebi had her lamb last week, the first thing I heard myself say was “Habeebi had her baby….” Of course, Habeebi’s baby slowly became Habeebi’s beebi…and progressed (or would that be digressed?) to Habeebibeebi.

I must admit, the girls are right; it IS one of our sillier moments. But, it makes us laugh, it draws us together, and it causes us to focus on the positive things that are going on at the barn, despite the times when things go so desperately wrong.

To focus on the positive is a very important thing on the farm. It’s all too easy to get discouraged when things go wrong, money is tight, and the future seems uncertain.

However, that is not possible as long as we have Habeebi and Habeebibeebi in the barn.

We’re laughing too hard!

Overnight Delivery

2012-01-30T06:43:00.006-05:00

In all the years we’ve been shepherds, during all those middle-of-the-night trips to the barn, we have never had to deliver lambs in the middle of the night. I did all those nocturnal checks just to keep from feeling like….maybe I should have done more.

Most of the time, the lambs are born in the early morning or at least in the light of day. I can only remember one time where we were lambing out a ewe at midnight. (and that project had started earlier in the evening) I just figured we’d keep checking…and finding nothing.

Until now.

Last night, on my final check before bedtime, it was obvious that one of the ewes was in labor. I decided to take the cautious approach and give her a little more time. When I went back an hour later, there was a nice ram lamb up and looking for a meal. YES!

It was then obvious that two other ewes were in labor. No sleeping tonight! I backed off and waited to see what would happen. One was in hard labor and appeared to need a little help. As I checked out the situation, suddenly the lamb was born. Wow! Another big one! I got her up and nursing and put the pair in a jug pen.

Now, I was going to need a third pen, so I began to make some arrangements in the barn. This caused all the other sheep to flip out and it got to be somewhat of a madhouse. A little treat of hay settled everyone down nicely.

The third ewe was beginning to moan and cry and wander around the barn in an anxious manner. Oh Bother! That is my cue for becoming the vet. Despite my best efforts, she was having none of my interventive care. I looked at my clock, 1:15…hate to do it, but, guess I better wake the Boss.

When he came into the barn, he was startled at the turn of events. Neither of us had expected to see one lamb in the middle of the night, let alone multiple lambs.

He held onto the ewe as I began my exam. Thankfully, everything was in the right place…unlike the other day. The lamb was quite large and the ewe is rather small, so it took more than a little effort to get it born. However, she was born, she was healthy, and mama-sheep took over. Since the lamb was quite large, I didn’t even think about the fact there might be twins. I was tired and forgot "the rule". The general rule is…if you gotta go in…make sure you get them all out! We jugged them as well and headed back to bed. I checked the clock again. Just past 2am...not too bad.

Imagine my surprise when I went back after about an hour to check on everyone and found ANOTHER lamb! Yes, skinny, little Freak (one of the barn’s many characters...she's the "sheep that flew"...) had TWINS! She’s got two little ewe lambs, bleating around, looking for food, seeming quite healthy.

How’s that for overnight delivery?

Are You An Educated Consumer?

2012-01-29T06:57:00.004-05:00

There is a clothing outlet chain that uses the slogan “an educated consumer is our best customer!” Seems there’s a lot of truth in that slogan. But, are YOU educated?

In the food industry, the agriculture industry, just about everywhere…you hear the “buzz” words.

Organic, Sustainable, Natural, Bio-dynamic, Green, Home-grown, Home-farm….the list goes on and on. Do YOU know what they mean? Do you care? Do you know where your food comes from? Do you care?

Many folks shop Farmers’ Markets because they like the freshness, the quality, the “connected-ness” of the Market. The whole “local” thing creates more confusion. Some people think that CSA’s, Farmers’ Markets and on-line buying clubs are all the same. Others think that everything at a Market “must” be organic, or better than the store, and surely no one would “spray” their crops. Do customers KNOW what they mean when they ask “do you spray?” Is it the very act of spraying with which they take issue? Or do they think that the only way “bad stuff” gets applied is through a sprayer nozzle?

When you make the choice to eat or drink something…ANYTHING, you should have educated yourself as to the pros and cons of that particular item and do a little research. Only then are you making an informed decision.

I grew up eating food from the “farm”. We raised most of our own food when I was a child. Dad had cows, pigs, chickens and rabbits that we butchered and ate. Mom always had a huge garden and we canned and froze a great deal. Later, as we got older, the animals became a memory and the garden reduced in size. But, the knowledge of WHERE food originates is deeply ingrained in my very being. Tom and I raised our girls in a similar manner. For a period of time, we only bought flour and some grain products from the store… everything else was home-grown. Meat, vegetables, eggs and dairy products were all produced here on the hill.

Both of my granddaddies grew up as farm boys on the Eastern Shore. Tom’s uncle remembers the milk cow that his mother had when Tom’s dad and his siblings were small children in the Amherst area of VA. Tom’s mother recalled summers spent at her cousin’s home…eating fresh food and drinking cream. She told stories of her own mother wringing the neck of the Sunday chicken. My grandparents lived in “the city”, but I distinctly remember the butter and egg man making deliveries. My grandmother would shop at farm markets far more often than the grocery. It seems that our family has always had some recollection on the “old ways”, even when we found ourselves living in town. It is almost beyond my comprehension when someone reveals that they have NO idea about food production.

I realize that a lot of our customers have NO idea how one goes about raising food…of ANY kind. In many cases, they really don’t care. That’s okay. But, when you want to take charge of your life and your eating….YOU must become informed….and EDUCATED.

The very basics of food production are these…In order to have food… there must be sun and earth, plants and rain (or some source of water), at the very minimum. In order for there to be an abundance of food, there must be farmers who know how to combine the sun and earth and water and plants to grow crops, either vegetable or protein.

There are many types of farming, and personally, I think that they probably all have a place in our world society. The very subject of farming practices can be amazingly divisive, and that is not my intent. Simply know that there are many ways to produce a similar product. It is YOUR responsibility, as the consumer, to understand the basics of the practices so that YOU can decide which fits YOUR priorities.

When shopping the Farmers’ Market, or any other source, ASK QUESTIONS. When asking questions, know what answers you are looking for. There are innumerable sources on-line where you can find information to educate yourself. Talk to the farmers, this is their livelihood…they have educated themselves in order to make this lifestyle work. They should be more than willing to answer your questions.

Here are just a couple of things to consider:

*Sprays are not intrinsically bad. Educate yourself as to what sprays YOU wish to avoid. To ask a grower…have you sprayed this with anything that will kill ME? … is not an appropriate question!

*Organic doesn’t mean it’s straight from the Garden of Eden. The rules for Organic certification are arbitrary and expensive to enforce.

*Sustainable is a “buzz word” that allows for a lot of latitude in the translation.

*In order to rid a crop of pests…pesticides are often used. Pesticides are always lethal. There are ORGANIC and NATURAL pesticides. Organic pesticides kill bugs just as dead as conventional ones. They also must be applied very often. Often the compound used is identical; it is just the delivery system that is different.

*Pesticides are indeed sometimes the only option. Bugs don’t read and follow “no trespassing” signs.

*Conventional farmers are not the “bad guys”. Just because a producer is not organic, do not assume that they pour on the hormones, antibiotics, killer drugs and lethal sprays.

Ultimately, the decision is up to YOU. But, for your own sake, please educate yourself.

The life you save may be your own!

My Whole Life is Hay

2012-01-27T06:32:00.010-05:00

Hey, hey, I'm out here balin' hay.
And all my friends are cruisin' 'round town.
Checkin' out the pretty girls
Hey! And what do they say
They say hey, hey,
Park that Deere, come out and play,
Kick that tire, wipe my perspire
Cause my whole life is hay.
-blake shelton

The other day when the Boss and I were hauling hay, I had a recollection of a time I accompanied Dad to one of the big farms on the other side of the county to get hay. The bales were left in the field by the baler, and he picked them up and loaded them in the pick-up. I was quite small at the time, and of absolutely no help, but the memory of the bales and the green grass in the sunshine is one that has lingered. There were other children there, and I remember running with them around the bales through the huge field of green. That, perhaps, was a moment that shaped my future endeavors.

I’ve always loved hay. The hayfields rippling in the late spring and early summer prior to harvest are a thing of beauty. Every different type of grass renders a different type of hay, each filling a different nutritional need …and it smells SO good!

As I have said before, making good hay is an art form. Haymakers are skillful farmers that I truly admire. Having had milkcows for a long, long time, I came to recognize and appreciate good hay. There are few things more appealing to me than a good-looking load of hay. I have been known to stare longingly after a load of hay only to realize that perhaps I should say, “Oh…sorry, farm dude…just admirin’ your HAY!”

Recently, I realized that my appreciation for hay is nothin’ compared to some of the girls in the barn. They will break out of the barn,
reach through the gate,
stand on the wall,
and try ever so hard to pirouette in order to reach the sun-dried delicacy
Even the tiny lambs get in on the act.

Sheep give new meaning to...

MY WHOLE LIFE IS HAY!

Just One of 'em Days

2012-01-26T20:35:00.006-05:00

*sigh*
I will spare you pictures of today’s happenings…the mental images will be disturbing enough.

Birthdays are supposed to be all about you…aren’t they? Happy, somewhat self-centered, carefree days, right?

Well, on a farm…it ain’t never about YOU…never. That is just one of the things that makes farming hard. Forget the actual hard work, the life and death struggle, the weather worries and economic concerns. You can’t take a day off (sick or vacay), completely forget about everything, and put your feet up. Nope, you’re a farmer…buck up, kiddo! …and, get back to work.

Today is my birthday, not a momentous one, so no worries…I wasn’t looking for a whole lot of exciting celebration. All the kids are all coming for supper over the weekend, and I’m not even doing all of the cooking. I am really looking forward to that. But, you’d think I could catch a bit of a break today…the actual day, wouldn’t you?

The Boss got me a whole bunch of goodies for birthday presents. We usually don’t make much of a to-do, so I was so touched at all the things he thought to get me. He’s something…really something! Love ya, Boss!

I knew the day wouldn’t go like I would have liked, we had a meeting to go to that I really wasn’t looking forward to (a story for another time). But, we would get to see our good friends, and make a sales delivery, so it wouldn’t be a total loss.

The good friends…proving what really good friends they are…took us out to lunch for my birthday. We talked and laughed and vented prior to going our separate ways. (Friends, You guys may never know how very special you are.)

When we got home, one of the ewes was in labor. I’ve been waiting for her to deliver for two days now, so this was a good thing. Well, so I thought. She was bleating, making this stressed sound that I know far too well is not a good sign. Labor is usually a short, intense episode, resulting in healthy, vigorous lambs. Signs of distress are…well, distressing. Her water bags were hanging out, but nothing was “happening”. This was an indication that intervention was necessary. As the self-appointed “vet on call”…action was up to me.

After getting the Boss and my vet box, I put on my OB gloves to assess the situation. One foot, two feet…there should be a nose…NO nose. The PG version of my comment was “oh crap!” I pushed in further…(you do realize that I had my hand in a sheep’s butt?...just wanted to make sure.) All the way in, still no head. She began to push down on my arm. OW! I pushed in further, she moaned. I was “in” up to my armpit. The labor contractions began again, I moaned. She struggled, The Boss moaned. Yeah, this was going great. (not) I located the head. It was turned completely backward from where it should be…the neck twisted in such a way that the head was pointing up instead of down...but the movements indicated the lamb was indeed alive. But, it was HUGE. My guess would be 16 to 18 pounds. (that’s a very large lamb) As she contracted again, struggling to expel the lamb, I believe the neck was broken. From that point on, I didn’t feel movement from the lamb. But, we had to get it out. She was bleeding heavily and fell to the ground. In order to continue working, I laid down on the ground (my arm still in the sheep) becoming covering in hay, blood and excrement. (yeah, I smell great…and my clothes…well, use your imagination) The Boss continued to handle the struggling ewe that was in incredible pain. He managed to keep her down so I could work on her, and keep her from kicking me in the face. (no small feat) The physical exertion of this task defies description. Muscle cramps in my hands and extreme pressure on my arm only added the difficulty of the task. After over an hour of unsuccessful struggle, we looked at each other over the weakening ewe, knowing that the decision was already made. It was time. This old girl was at the end of the line. The Boss went to the house for the pistol…

I tell you this story not to horrify you, not to make us out to be bad people and failures as farmers. I tell you this story so you will understand the life and death struggle we (and other farmers) face on a daily basis and yet, we keep going somehow. This is a hard life. We continue on because the successes outweigh the failures, the good surpasses the bad, and we know that certainly another day will be better than today has been.

Then, we had to dispose of 250 pounds of dead sheep. An unexpected trip to the landfill followed. Yeah, we have to do something with dead animals. Most times it is easy enough to dig a grave on the farm. Large animals pose a completely different problem. This birthday is getting better and better (not). Okay, bad thing out of the way…deep breath…onto chores. Things just gotta get better!

On my way to the barn, it occurred to me that I really needed to “do the tails” from the most recent lambs. Another educational point…we band the lambs’ tails in order to dock them. This means that the sheep all have very short tails in order to prevent issues like fly-strike that result from the constant contact of a feces-laden tail. After a few days, the tail becomes swollen and we remove it. This doesn’t usually cause the lamb any discomfort (the band has cut off blood and nerve supply).

Unfortunately, since today was just “one of ‘em days”…the tail removal was problematic. #1 tail was removed, no problem. When #2 tail was removed, blood went everywhere. ..and I mean, everywhere! Keep in mind what I had done earlier in the day…more blood was NOT what I wanted to see. For the second time in less than 5 hours, I found myself saying that word I REALLY try NOT to say.

The blood wasn’t stopping. I grabbed paper towels. More blood. I used the antiseptic spray I always use. More blood. More paper towels. I ran to the shop for iodine. More blood. Blood-stop powder didn’t seem to faze it. I was beginning to get just a little woozy. More paper towels. More blood-stop powder. Was it finally slowing down? I hoped so.

In a fit of frustration, I went to the house and told the Boss. He was involved in another task and told me it would be okay. However, when he finished and ventured to the barn, he was slightly taken aback at all the bloody papertowels in the barn trashcan.

Finally, after what seemed like countless paper towels, a quarter can of blood-stop, bunches of iodine and lots of frantic prayer, the bleeding slowed. Then, it stopped. …and thankfully, the lamb was not dead. No, she was happily nursing her mama last time I checked.

At some point prior to supper, I lost it in a weepy fit of frustration. I hate when this reaction is the only way to deal with things. My present troubles pale in comparison to some of my friends’ situations. Where is that tough girl/woman I know I am? I reckon the physical stress, the lack of sleep and the emotional rollercoaster all took a toll. A few dozen tissues and I’m back on track.

I better be. It will be time to check the sheep again at 10pm, 2am, 6am, and so on. There is picking to do for winter sales, the actual sales, and the continual day to day stuff of the farm. This is hard, this is tough, and this is what WE do. This is who I am.

Tomorrow, if nothing else, will be different. The struggles I had today will either pale in comparison to some new and different issue, or they will be forgotten in the wonder that is a beautiful day on the farm.

It’s just been one of them days…

I May Have Created a Frankenstein

2012-01-26T06:30:00.006-05:00

It seemed like a good idea to tame the barn kitties. Tamer kitties would be easier to handle, that would be a good thing, right?

To this end, I bought some little cat cookies and we began to give little treats on the backporch. This was working quite well.

That is…until the cats became addicted to the cookies.

Now, it is virtually impossible to walk out the backdoor without cats all over the place looking for a handout. The dogs try to get in on the act, but that’s another story…

This reached a climax of sorts yesterday. When I walked in the backdoor, the Boss was hurrying into the laundryroom with a concerned look on his face. He had been working in the office and heard an odd noise. When he looked up, Squeekie was wandering around IN THE HOUSE. An attempt to put her out only led to her hiding under our bed.
We spent the next 10 minutes trying to coax her, prod her, and poke her out from under the bed. When we finally succeeded in getting her back outside, we figured that the days of overly anxious cats on the back porch would be over since she had probably been traumatized.

Not so fast!

At 5 o’clock this morning, when I went to check the sheep…

Here is what I saw as I opened the backdoor….

ACK!

We are under siege by hungry cats addicted to cat cookies!

Winter Farmer's Market

2012-01-25T05:40:00.016-05:00

A quick Google search yielded no less than 4.5 MILLION entries when I typed in today’s title. WOW! Of course, I realize that this is because it searched for every entry for every single word. But, still…WOW!

Winter Farmers’ Markets are becoming quite trendy. Folks are realizing that the fresh, local food that is so abundant in summer is greatly missed in the winter. There are farmers with farm products available all year and there are customers who are more than willing to buy those farm products. There are all sorts of models for selling in the winter. It should be evident, but for the record the offerings of any “winter market” are far, far different from those of the regular growing season.

Once again, we find ourselves on the “cutting edge”… being pioneers and trend-setters without even trying. This is more than a little amusing. Anyone who knows us, knows that TRENDY is one thing we AIN’T!

While our plan isn’t a Farmers’ Market per se, we have found a way to get our farm products to customers during the winter.

“Back in the day” wintertime was dark and bleak. Not only weather-wise, but our cash-flow ended with the last day of the Market. Any winter expenditures were carefully monitored. We saved like crazy during the summer in order to keep this place operational during the winter. The expenses incurred in February and March to get our Market venture going again were an enormous leap of faith.

Lest you get the idea that we sat around all winter wringing our hands in hopes of making it to spring, we were indeed creative in our ventures. We sold some eggs, did a little custom baking, the Boss had a few odd jobs. We made soap, started plants, and created items for early season sales at the Market. But, it wasn’t until we realized that there was indeed a way to market our goods in the “off season” that positive cashflow became a year-round option. …and Winter-time shortened considerably.

The Staunton/Augusta Farmers Market is a true open air market. That means there are no buildings to shelter the vendors as there are in many other market locations around the country. This is great in the summertime; it adds to the character of the Market. The different color tents and canopies, the variety of display techniques and the myriad of farm products provide a sense of vibrancy and vitality. Along with music, the atmosphere is eclectic and fun.

But, when the cold winds of November blow, the atmosphere changes dramatically. By the last market the weekend prior to Thanksgiving, customers and vendors are all happy to head to warmer venues. I want to note that most successful Winter Markets have some sort of shelter and many move the entire operation inside. This is not a possibility for the Staunton Market, so it has been necessary to devise other plans. As if to drive this point home, October of 2011 saw measurable snowfall at the Market…an historic event that no one wishes to repeat!

Several years ago, one of our “customer-friends” who owns a downtown business, made the suggestion that we set up in their establishment and offer our products for sale. Hmmmm… Did I mention they have a coffeeshop? Definitely, mmmmm…

We had kicked the idea of winter sales around for a long time, but the location had been an issue. In the winter, eggs piled up without many customers. The positive cashflow would really be nice. If we planned well, we could offer all sorts of things for sale. But, we wondered if we would have any takers. After an informal “market survey”, we sat down and did a little logistical brain-storming. We came up with a workable plan, a database was developed; we were ready to go.

When I hit the “send” button on our first farm email, back in the winter of ’09, it was with a lot of trepidation. What if no one answered? What if they didn’t want anything? What if…? To top off my worries, we were hit with a tremendous snow that very first weekend.

However, I shouldn’t have worried. They answered, they ordered, they say they love us. Ah, job satisfaction!

This is our fourth year of offering our farm products in the winter time. We have yet to have a week without lots of answers to our emails and requests for our products. Many times we have sold out of a particular item within hours of sending the email.

Every year our winter venture has grown. We outgrew the warm vestibule of the downtown business and had to say good-bye to Blue Mountain Coffee. We moved our pick-up point to the cold parking lot that could accommodate our truck and trailer. Despite the change, the customers continue to come. It amazes us how many are willing to stand in the cold on a Saturday morning waiting to pick up their orders.

Each week, I write an email, adding a few pics of the week, a few snippets of farm news and note all the things we have to sell. Sometimes the winter weather keeps us from selling fresh greens, but most weeks we have something straight from the hoophouses for sale. Green stuff in January, February and March is a treat for everyone! I don’t think we can ever grow too much. We offer eggs and lamb, frozen vegetables, fruits and jam. There are onions and potatoes offered from cold storage in the reefer. Sometimes, the amounts we are able to offer even surprise us!

Since everything is pre-ordered, the customers don’t have to wonder if we’ll be there and what we might have. We don’t have to stand out in the winter weather, hoping for a sale. Our system seems to work well for all involved.

Every season offers a chance for improvement and opportunities for growth. The challenges change with the weather. We have already determined we need to add a few crops for next winter’s sales. We have folks who are waiting to join our email list.

So, the growing and the selling(along with the seeding, planting and picking…and endless weeding) have become a profitable year-round venture.

While we may never be “trendy” in most aspects of our lives, we’re right in there with our own "Winter farmer's market"!

I Like Big Butts

2012-01-23T06:52:00.009-05:00

As farmers, growers, producers of food, we look at things from a different perspective than the rest of the world. We may seem like misfits at times, but our different point of view is a good thing!

We don’t see cutesy animals romping and frolicking over the farm. We see a source of food and income. Because our livelihood depends on it, we MUST be good caretakers. Healthy animals and healthy land are the basis for our business and our way of life.

Animal and plant crops provide the stuff that keeps the humans of the world fed and clothed. These crops must be cared for, and cared for well, in order for everything and everyone to thrive. It is an important task that farmers take most seriously.

There are those who would question the care and concern on the part of the farmer. This is not fair if the questioner has no actual knowledge of farming. The movies have done nothing to further understanding of agriculture. “Babe” and “Charlotte’s Web” are entertaining, but painted farmers in a very undesirable manner. I will even suggest that some of the so-called documentary movies regarding food production are in fact slanted and biased. Practices that to the un-initiated look cruel or unnecessary are part of the routine care that the farmer knows will produce a superior product. Without some sort of human intervention, there would not be a product to go to the market. The world would be a very hungry place if it weren’t for farmers, their knowledge, commitment and hard work.

Yes, baby animals are cute and cuddly. But, they do not stay that way. They do not make good pets. They do not, I repeat… DO NOT rank up there with human beings! They are intended to be food and they should be well treated until such a time as they are destined for the plate. That indeed is the practice here on the hill.

When we look at the young animals on the farm, it is to assess health and vigor, although we enjoy the pastoral scene and the bucolic antics. We get a sense the carcass quality beneath the wool (or feathers when we look at broilers) and know that we are doing a good management job. The big butts on the lambs indicate superior muscling and a desirable carcass. Big muscles equal more meat. And ultimately more meat equals more money.

**Just for the record, making money is NOT a reason to go into farming. **

One of the reasons we raise meat animals is that we enjoy good, clean, wholesome meat. I realize I just offended a lot of vegetarians. For that, I apologize…but please hear me out. Those who choose not to eat meat do so for a variety of reasons. …and that’s okay. But, I would suggest that anyone who becomes vegetarian in order to prevent cruelty to animals check out the facts. The facts. Most farmers aren’t abusive or hateful. Most farmers are not notoriously cruel to their animals; they cannot afford to be. To re-iterate…their livelihood depends upon it! As for those who would say the animals are treated as commodities…yes, they are. But, commodities have value and are treated accordingly.

Unfortunately, there are bad farmers, mean farmers, and farmers who just don’t care about anything but money. But, there are folks like that in every profession. Those few bad apples shouldn’t spoil the whole bunch!

When you live on the land, by the land…you also live for the land. A good farmer is concerned about those in his care, be they animal or plant crops, and he will do everything he can to assure that health and prosperity abounds on his farm. Care of the land is as important as care of the crops.

One of the local veterinarians has a bumper sticker on his vet truck: “Farmers…the first environmentalists”. While there are those who would look askance at this statement, those who would attempt to demonize all farmers, it must be made perfectly clear that farmers MUST be concerned with the environment…because they know how important it is to their livelihood. A whole lot of thought and care and concern go into being a farmer.

On a personal level, we get a great sense of accomplishment and satisfaction when we look at the lamb chop crop and see those healthy, robust lambs. That line of lamb butts is the result of a lot of hard work, thought, planning and prayer…and good farming practices. We also know that the result of all the before-mentioned effort… this will be some awesome eating!

Yep….I like big butts!

…and I cannot lie…

Eat Your WEEDS!

2012-01-21T13:05:00.010-05:00

Chickweed was threatening to overtake Hoophouse #2…again. The environmental conditions of that area of the farm must be perfect for chickweed growth. For 15 years, we’ve fought the chickweed…and for 15 years, the chickweed has battled back. This time, we beat that chickweed! We ATE it. I got some perverse sense of justice from that.

By the time January rolls around, the brilliant green of the weed growth is looking pretty good to all of the inhabitants here on the hill. The chickens have learned that when I head into the hoophouse (which is very near their home) with a bucket, goodies are sure to follow. They line up along the fence and wait.

Chickweed is high in a number of nutrients, grows profusely and resembles spinach. So, let’s use it for a meal! I’ve read and studied bunches of books on herbs and foraging, so there is little fear of eating something “bad”. Long story short…I picked it, we ate it; it was very tasty. Although, not so tasty that we would be willing to let it overtake the hoophouse. To market weeds would be a risky proposition at best. So, I will return to filling the buckets for the chickens. This activity keeps the hens happy and producing beautiful, tasty eggs.

The chickweed supper got me to thinking about all the plants we do eat, and how many of them have lowly “weed-like” beginnings. The lettuce that is an essential in salads is actually a descendant of wild lettuce. It has taken years and years of careful breeding and selection to make something that is prickly and bitter into the tender tasty lettuces that we look to for salads throughout the year. While the texture and flavor is much better, the further we get from the weed origin, the more nutrients we lose.

The battle of the weeds includes lambsquarters, too. This weed grows prolifically and tastes very much like spinach. We have eaten this one on numerous occasions. Most times, the chickens get this one, too, as it grows far too quickly to manage any other way. The “weeds” don’t sell well, so the chickens eat them and we cultivate similar domesticated crops.

Although, oddly enough, we actually cultivate DANDELIONS! Sounds crazy, doesn’t it? But, dandelions are part of the “French Salad Mix” that sells so well at the Market. The slightly bitter flavor of the dandy adds a bit of spark to a salad. The plant has an astringent action on the body and provides a sometimes much needed tonic, especially in the early spring.

We also cultivate CLAYTONIA. Also known as Miner’s Lettuce, this tender and delicious green was utilized by the miners during the Gold Rush of 1849 to combat the possibility of scurvy during the long, cold winter. When planted in August or September, the delicious green matures in January and keeps producing until the warm weather causes it to bolt or go to seed. Until then, it adds some green to an otherwise dreary season. It tastes so good; it’s hard to remember that it is just a weed, and as such, undesirable to many.

Those weeds that are the first to show forth their green growth in the spring are incredibly nutritious and in most cases, delicious. After the long dirth of green throughout the winter, anything verdant is welcome. I have often said that we could probably sell ANYTHING green in the early spring, if we had the right tag-line. Although, I admit, I haven’t followed through on this idea.

Much of the knowledge of the natural world has been lost as modernity encroaches. The ability to doctor ourselves with the foods we eat has been all but lost in our highly progressive society. While this fact rather saddens me, there are those who continue to promote wild-crafting food and foraging to those who are interested. That’s most encouraging. The subject is fascinating and delicious. There is a lot of nutrition out there…just for the eating.

A quick perusal of the seed catalog shows many of the so-called weeds being cultivated these days for use as salad greens. This always gives me a chuckle and offers the opportunity to say….

“EAT YOUR WEEDS!”

Sometimes Life Sucks

2012-01-20T09:59:00.004-05:00

While I truly hate that expression…sometimes it is the only expression that fits the situation.

This morning one of those times. While I try to be upbeat and positive when blogging, there are times when things are just not upbeat and positive.

Yesterday was a really good day. At choretime we found a healthy set of twins up and looking for their breakfast. We had a good response to our weekly sales newsletter; we had lunch with friends and got a load of some awesome looking hay. Life was feeling pretty good.

This morning, when I walked in the barn, a bunch of ewes were in the wrong place. No problem, just an annoyance. Sheep that have a propensity for eating catfood are just a nuisance.

But, when I went to the jug to check on mama-sheep, the beautiful healthy ram lamb born yesterday was dead. Nothing seemed amiss. The only ram lamb so far…and he was beautiful. He was just stone-cold dead. I admit, I screamed…and then, I cussed and threw things.

I hate death. I just hate it. Especially when it is unexpected and unexplainable. I feel like I have lost a battle, or I have failed somehow. It calls to mind the episode of M*A*S*H where Hawkeye has a patient die on the table and he keeps pumping and pumping while saying “don’t let the bastard win”. He just couldn’t stop. The other doctors had to step in to get him to realize and accept the situation. In many ways I have identified with Hawkeye’s character. That line almost always runs through my head as I hope against hope that my diagnosis of death is wrong.

Invariably, the cycle of questions swirls through my head. The woulda, coulda, shoulda, what ifs, and whys threaten to overwhelm. Just as invariably, the Boss calmly states, “don’t beat yourself up about this one”. The swirl of questions and the feeling of helplessness reinforce the notion that there is probably more crap between my ears than there is in the barn. It’s frustrating that I have to deal with “baggage” as well as the current situation.

But, the knowledge that life goes on, there are many other things dependent upon my care and effort, cause me to take control of my emotions and mental wranglings and focus on the positive again.

It also doesn’t hurt to crank the tunes and sing along with Montgomery Gentry…
“That’s all right…I’m okay….it ain’t nothin’ but another day!”

From My Window

2012-01-20T07:03:00.007-05:00

From the kitchen window, I can easily tell the season of the year. In the winter, I can see out to M’brook road, noting cattle trailers and haywagons going up and down the road. In the early Spring, this becomes a little harder, as the trees start to bud and leaf out along the property line. With the height of summer, I can see very little of the road for the lush green leaves. If I stand “just so” I can see what little traffic there may be. But, in the fall of the year…oh my! The fence line starts to come alive with the changing of the leaves on the poison ivy and Virginia creeper. Slowly, the other leaves begin to change…yellow, orange, red and brown. As they all drift to the ground, my view to M’brook road becomes unobscured once more. At that point, I can see cattle trailers heading to and from the sales, and milk and log trucks hauling their payloads down the road.

With a mostly unobstructed view to the barnyard, I can quickly check on the sheep while I do dishes, perform other kitchen chores.

But, today’s view from the window made me do a double-take.

The dogs, appreciative of the relative calm of the backyard, seized the opportunity for a nap in the warm sunshine. They were side by side in exactly the same position for the longest time.

Synchronized napping…that’s the first time I've seen THAT from my window.

Oh RATS!

2012-01-17T05:51:00.004-05:00

Any place that stores grain has its share of vermin. This is just a fact of farm life. The thrill of the hunt gives the cats and dogs something to do.

Mice are a given. Their numbers are legion, but the actual damage they do in the barn area is relatively minor. Their presence in the greenhouse is another story. A single mouse can destroy an entire planting in a single night. Suffice it to say, I hates meeses to pieces!

Rats, on the other hand, cause a good bit of damage with their tunneling and their chewing. They are seen as grosser, creepier and germier than mice. This is not necessarily true and probably has something to do with the whole bubonic plague thing from the Dark Ages. Still, we don’t want them overtaking the barn or surrounding buildings.

Recently, the rats have become an issue around the brooder house. The spilled feed and the relative safety of the pen allow the rat population to flourish. The Boss has begun trapping them and disposing of them with regularity. However, rats are smart and they began tunneling UNDER the trap to get to the bait. He had to put a stop to that. The baited trap was put on a board. As of today, no trapped rats.

With the dogs and cats of the farm, poisons are not considered. We wouldn’t want to inadvertently sicken, or worse, one of the “home team”, so the slow rat trapping project continues. We will probably never completely eradicate them, but population control is essential. Occasionally, we find a dead rat, left for us as a “gift” by our feline friends. While I realize you should accept gifts graciously…dead rats make me say “EWWW!”

The other morning I came upon a big rat when I entered the barn. Squeakie darted past me and took on the rat. (I realized at this point that it was already dead) She pounced, attacked, and bit. She threw that rat in the air and dragged it around. She seemed quite ferocious. The fact that she is only about 6 pounds and the rat had to weigh a pound made these antics far more impressive. When all was said and done, I disposed of the rat. I am glad Squeakie is on the “home team”, I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of her hunting prowess.

…ONE down…
...score one for the "home team"!
Go, Squeakie!

Beyond Organic

2012-01-14T06:02:00.010-05:00

The first time I ever heard the term “beyond organic” was many years ago…our very own Boss was being sarcastic and facetious (unusual for him) and trying to prove a point. Somehow, over the years, those in “the know” have glommed onto his outspoken phrase. While it is irritating that he doesn’t get the credit, it does at least give credence to the fact that a NEW buzzword is needed.

Organic, biodynamic, sustainable, alternative are used in opposition to conventional. The comments would lead one to believe that conventional is anathema and anything, anything else is better, no matter what. This argument is divisive and derisive and just downright WRONG!

There are 7 billion people on this planet. 7 BILLION! Can you even fathom this number? I can’t. My poor, little mind can’t even imagine a one hundred thousand, let alone a million. BILLIONS?

The amount of food needed to feed all these folks is quite possibly beyond the scope of human comprehension. I want to point out here that despite all the hoo-ha regarding types of food production, there are still starving people in the world. Until everyone is fed and clothed, the arguments over types of production simply serve to alienate the factions when they could be working together. While I am a staunch supporter of local, clean and homegrown food, I do NOT for one minute think that small producers can possibly feed the world. Sorry, alternative ag folks… NO WAY!

There is a place in food production for ALL the various production types….yep, ALL of them. It is up to the consumer to decide which one he or she chooses. If cost is the defining factor, then organics will NEVER be the norm. To use the organic label, one must be certified. To comply with certification, the inputs alone can be three times the price of the same item produced in a conventional manner. As long as cheap food is necessary, then government subsidies will exist and so will $1 burgers at MickieDee’s. There are those who would argue that it works the other way, but I’m not so sure.

The fact of the matter is all of these choices are convictions…not unlike one’s choices or decisions in the realms of spirituality and theology. Just as a human cannot take over the position of the Holy Spirit in the realm of Christianity, no one can force convictions (of any type) on another. Nor, might I add, should they try!

Someone once told us “the whole world is goin’ organic!” We just laughed. More than ten years later, we are seeing the word everywhere. Green, organic and sustainable are BIG selling points. The big box stores are jumping on the “local” bandwagon. Take a step back and look at this phenomenon…the words have been re-defined to fit their current usage. The definition of “organic” from twenty years ago doesn’t apply today, particularly in a global economy. Constant discussions and re-definitions of “local” are commonplace among food producers as they attempt to command more of the market share.

A lot of groups have taken issue with “farmwashing”. This is the term given to the attempt by big box stores and chains to make themselves look connected to their sources…and to the actual production of the items they sell. This may or may not be the case. Further investigation should be warranted.

I will argue to the death for the right of farmers to farm the land. I will even admit to the necessity of some type of feedlots and factory farms in order to produce food on the scale needed to feed 7 billion people. However, any attempt to make these look lovely and picturesque at all times is a disservice to everyone who eats food. Farming has a side that is somewhat gross and possibly horrifying to the un-informed. That is just a fact of life. Education about production should be part of “farm transparency”, not the continued practice of “enhancing” farm image.

Presently, food does still grow on farms, and it takes dedicated farmers to understand and work the land to produce the crops. This doesn’t matter if it’s the 2,400 tons of potatoes harvested daily for McD’s fries, the millions of pounds of chicken harvested in a single day in the state of Virginia,
or the amounts produced by organic, natural growers and market gardeners here in the Valley.

There are crops that may be grown in ways similar to the home garden while on the farm. However, once they leave the farm, the sheer volume necessitates different handling. Personally, I think this is where the difference becomes profound. When we grow lettuce by the bushel and transport it 12 miles to town, it is a far different commodity than lettuce produced by the multiple trailer load and transported 2 or 3 THOUSAND miles prior to its consumption. The same holds true for other crops.

Ultimately, “it’s the choice of the eater”. I once heard some old, local guy call into a local radio talkshow and say just that. He was right.

You make the decision for yourself. Don’t judge others, don’t attempt to dictate that everyone be just like YOU. Just do the best for yourself, your family…and if you’re feeling generous…your community. If everyone did that…we wouldn’t need all the rhetoric.

Organic, sustainable, alternative, call it what you will. They are all just words, vague in definition, random in their usage, all with the hope of commanding a little more of the market share.

So, FORGET THE LABELS!

Know your farmer,

know his practices,
and make an informed decision.

Rest assured…you will be WAY "beyond organic" at that point!

Well, Blow Me Down!

2012-01-13T16:39:00.008-05:00

We’ve been under a “wind advisory” all day today. Gusts up to 50 miles an hour were to be expected. Along with the cold temperatures, the wind chill has been in the teens all day. Pleasant? Perhaps invigorating? Not by any stretch of the imagination!

I was awakened by the wind about 1am. The howling, screaming noise of the wind, punctuated by the groaning and banging of the attached greenhouse did nothing to lull me back to sleep. An errant snowstorm also blew in overnight. As the day dawned slowly, we struggled to “get in gear”. The wind blew out internet connection, so we spent the early hours trying to find a rhythm to our disrupted day.

Cold, windy days here on the hill make it impossible to get any outside work done. The biting wind, with a little snow mixed in for good measure, made morning chores rather unpleasant. The sheep and chickens don’t particularly appreciate this kind of weather, either.

The morning DJ on my favorite radio station posted a Facebook message that perhaps everyone should put rocks in their pockets so they wouldn’t BLOW away! Of course he was joking, but here on the hill…blowing away seems a distinct possibility.

Even the animals hunker down on windy winter days. The barn provides a shelter, so the sheep, cats and dogs all hang out, snoozing and eating. The dogs do the occasional patrol; strange scents on the wind call them out of the protection of the barn.

For our part, the Boss and I managed to get some stuff done. We’re picked and packed and ready for our winter sales delivery to town in the morning. However, it’s cold and windy and fighting the urge to hibernate has been a constant battle.

The wind should die down sometime tonight. Despite the frigidly cold forecast for the weekend and the upcoming precipitation, we hold on to the thought…

…it’s only 67 days ‘til Spring!
I hope!

EL Lambos!

2012-01-13T12:50:00.007-05:00

Once upon a time, sheepshowing ruled our lives. Well, it ruled A’s life, and by default affected the rest of us to some degree. She lived and breathed for every aspect of the sheep show. She talked sheep, she worked sheep, she raised sheep; she probably dreamt about them at night. We took pictures of showing, we went to shows, we looked at sheep…it was THE thing for a short while.

During this time, she had some “cyber-friends” who were just about as intense as she was. They talked on line a LOT. These were young teens across the nation, growing up in the country, participating in fairs and livestock shows. They encouraged one another in their endeavors, shared their knowledge and provided some type of peer group that is often lacking in very rural locations.

As the only boy in this group, Cody, was both the comedian and authority figure. He handled this role in a way only a fourteen year old boy could. He would inform the gullible girls of all sorts of things…just to get that cyber giggle.

One morning I was greeted with…“Hey, Mama! You don’t know the Spanish word for lambs….do ya?” My Spanish is beyond rusty, high school was longer ago than I care to remember. "No, don’t know the Spanish for lambs."

“I DO!....It’s EL LAMBOS!” Okay, I admit it…I nearly fell over laughing. While Spanish and High School are dim and distant memories, I KNEW that one was wrong! When I recovered my speaking ability, I found that the source of the new information was none other than the infamous Cody. That knowledge made me laugh all over again.

He was informed that the truth had been found…that they knew he was indeed pulling the girls’ legs. Then he laughed and laughed.

After that, when a good laugh was needed, we simply said EL LAMBOS to one another and collapsed in laughter.

Time passed and we didn’t say it quite so much. I did send A texts to announce the arrival of the first lambs that simply said “EL LAMBOS!” on more than one occasion. Each time, it provided a laugh and a quick trip down memory lane.

I hadn’t thought of it in a long time until yesterday. The days of showing are long gone, the cyber-friends gone on their separate life paths, A is married and living in another part of the county. Still, EL LAMBOS makes me chuckle.

So, Cody…wherever you are…thanks!

Baby, It's COLD Outside!

2012-01-10T06:53:00.013-05:00

When the mercury dips, the wind begins to howl and the snow begins to fall…we have to go into “winter mode” around here. Thankfully, the season has been oddly mild and somewhat enjoyable so far. But, it is only the beginning of January!

Winter on the farm isn’t all cocoa and cookies while we watch the snowflakes drift lazily past the windows. No, sometimes the weather is an all-out life and death struggle that taxes our bodies as well as our will and determination. Layers of clothing and a different approach to chores make for some interesting times during the winter.

Last week, the low, LOW temperatures got me thinking about farming in winter. When I was done prayin’ for warmer weather, I realized maybe the different work scenario might hold some interest for others. Here’s a run-down on the cold weather plan. It involves coats and coveralls, boots and buckets...and LOTS of trips outside!

The cold temperatures mean two things to the grazing animals of the farm. First, there is NOTHING to graze. The frozen ground yields no fresh growth, and with all those hooves walking over it, quickly becomes either a dusty wasteland or frozen pond. It’s time for HAY! The second thing is that it is COLD! The cold, combined with the physical demands of late pregnancy, means that the caloric intake of each animal increases exponentially. It’s time for more HAY!

All that hay we bought and hauled during the summer (and then some) needs to be delivered to the ewes (and ram) for their consumption. The bales are pulled from the stack, hauled into the feeders, baler twine cut and disposed of, twice a day. That's a lot of hay...

The constant consumption of dry hay means the sheep drink a LOT more water than they might when eating lush, green grass. A whole lot more!

Since the sum of cold plus water equals ICE…we generally use a stocktank heater to keep the water ice free. For years we kept a two-by-four next to the stocktank to beat a hole in the ice to allow the animals access to fresh water. A chance remark led us to one of the greatest inventions known to mankind…the small stocktank heater.
No more hacking away with a 2 x4, shovel or big stick! The water stays ice-free even in the coldest weather.

Unfortunately, this is electric and can cause other “issues”. Presently, the ewes are acting as if it is giving them a mild electric shock when they drink out of the tank. This means they will NOT drink out of the tank. Not a good plan when all they are eating is dry, dry hay and they are heavily pregnant. Back to the frozen stocktank and the two-by-four…

Recently, the temperature was so low that the entire tank turned into a 35-gallon ice cube! After three days of melting, the ice was still over 3 inches thick. The only solution was to drag another tank out of storage and use that one for a while. When the ewes are in the jug pens, all the buckets freeze…. It is not unusual to have gigantic icecubes scattered about the farm during a cold spell.

The water has to be hauled in buckets, because the hoses and pipes have been rendered inoperable by the cold. A 5-gallon bucket, filled with water, weighs in excess of 40 pounds. Sheep drink a LOT of water in the winter. So, I haul lots of buckets...and break a LOT of ice.

One year, all the water hauling, hay hauling and lamb pulling (story for another time) caused a terrible pain in my back. A visit to the chiropractor fixed me right up…and gave me a chuckle. When he asked what had happened, I told him about hauling water buckets and hay. He looked quizzical and said, “you mean you don’t use the tractor for that?” The mental picture of a tractor loaded with hay and water driving through the barn was truly amusing. Ah, well…

The lambs are born during the cold of winter as well. This is intentional on our part, although it causes some challenges. The lambs born in January and February are robust and ready to graze on their own when the grass comes back in April. This means a trip to the barn every four hours during the 3 to 4 weeks of lambing season. When it is very cold, I go every 2 hours. Thankfully, I have found that I can wear my coveralls OVER my pajamas.

The cold plays havoc in the henhouse as well. Temperatures below freezing cause FROZEN eggs. Frozen eggs crack. Cracked eggs should not be sold. So, the Boss sets his timer and gathers eggs every hour or so, depending on the temperatures. Every time he goes to gather eggs, he must bundle up against the cold. It seems that we are always putting on or taking off coats, gloves and boots.

The automatic water system for the chickens is useless during the winter. The irrigation systems for the hoophouses and greenhouses are also inoperable until the temperatures moderate and the warmth thaws the lines. On days that it never gets that warm, we go back to our low tech watering cans. Water buckets are placed strategically around the farm, close enough to a frost-free hydrant to be handy. There is an unspoken rule…”NEVER use a water bucket without replacing it!”

The hens need more attention in the cold weather, as well. Walking around on little, bare chicken feet gets mighty cold. Egg production can go down if they don't have plenty to eat and drink in a convenient spot. Many times over the years the Boss has had to shovel snow from their pen just so they can get outside.

The hoophouses and greenhouses must be constantly monitored. It is possible to go from frozen temperatures and chilly plants to well over 100* on a sunny day in a matter of hours. If we don’t keep up with the changes, we’re dealing with wilted and dying plants. This is NOT good…and I’ve inadvertently “cooked” seedlings more than once.

Snow only adds to the physical effort of chores. Hauling hay, feed and water through inches, or feet, of snow is not fun and down-right tiring. But, there is a deep satisfaction knowing that all our animal charges are well cared for.

While the whole coveralls, coat, boots and gloves routine gets more than a little old, all this wintertime activity is key to our summertime sales.

No time for cocoa,
...we're off to the barn!

Waitin' on a Woman

2012-01-06T06:37:00.020-05:00

Ellie Mae joined the farm team back in December of ’09. She came as part of a trade deal…to be a companion for Jed…to work as our “back-up” guardian dog. Despite the fact that I thought it was a good plan…I wasn’t real impressed…

I’ve mentioned before that I’ve never seen myself as a dog person. I guess we all change over time. Today, I couldn’t imagine this place without the “bark-o-matics”, the “white wonders”, the “goober-dogs”, the “doofus twins”…whatever you want to call them. They definitely add to the “atmosphere” of the farm.

When Ellie first came, she was scared to death…of us…of the farm…of everything. We locked her in the barn to acclimate. Sometime in the night, she escaped. She had to “do her business” and dogs generally don’t do that where they are sleeping. I had anticipated this need and set out to the barn around midnight. No Ellie Mae! I panicked when I realized it was the middle of the night, I had no idea where this puppy was, and she certainly hadn’t “bonded” to the farm. I called her, knowing full well she didn’t know her name…she hadn’t even had a name before she came to the hill. But, amazingly, she came romping out of the darkness…looking like she was happy to see me.

It’s been over two years since that night. Now, I can hardly step out the door without hearing her tags jingling as she comes to greet me. She always looks happy…almost like she wants to laugh.

The primary job for the dogs is to guard the sheep…in theory anyway. They bark at a lot of things, they lick the sheeps’ ears, noses and tails…but, I have no idea if they actually PROTECT anything. We know if crows, dogs, deer and vehicles cross the property line. Sometimes we are warned of completely unseen dangers. But, mostly Ellie waits…

She waits when I work in the garden.

Since the dogs are the size of small ponies, with feet the size of Sasquatch, and an amazing propensity for digging, they are denied access to the part of the farm dedicated to crops. The eradication of groundhogs, rabbits and coons would be wonderful, but the potential loss the dogs would cause with their undeniable presence would overshadow any positive outcome. So she waits…

She waits when I take a walk. She accompanies me to the lane, lies down by the gate and waits until I come back to accompany me back to the house. She then trundles off to the barn to make her rounds.

She waits while I feed the sheep. She waits while I work in the hoophouse.

She waits and waits and waits. The time of day or type of weather doesn't matter...she just waits.

Sometimes she waits alone, sometimes Jed or Booooyyy will grant her a little company.

She’s perfectly happy with a pat on the head, most of the time. If the pat on the head is slow in coming, she will hold out a paw, or nose my hand. Then, she’s content to wait …and wait…and wait.

A Shepherd's Job

2012-01-04T06:50:00.008-05:00

It is nearly lambing time. I really don’t know how the time passed so quickly, but it did…and so we had to get some preparation work done immediately. The ewes must be worked at certain intervals during their gestation time in order to assure healthy lambs.

We needed to vaccinate all the ewes. This one shot grants the babies protection from three of the diseases that can swiftly kill newborn lambs. The mothers’ bodies make antibodies that pass through to the lambs giving them a natural immunity.

We packed all the ewes in one stall, and proceeded to send them through the scale shoot and then allow them to roam around the barn. This worked great until we got about halfway through and the Boss ended up going around in circles to get them into the little opening of the shoot. There was the potential for an all out rodeo that we really did NOT need.

Then, I introduced him to the ultimate handling tool. Rather than man-handle them, we began to entice them with food. Forget dogs, leg and neck crooks, rattle that feed scoop and “ya got em every time”!

That worked until the last one. The last sheep ALWAYS freaks out. This one tried going OVER the gate! Thankfully, she finally calmed down, ate her food and got her shot. Whew! Finished that one! The Boss has been nursing a bad back, so I was glad to see that he was still able to get around after the rodeo.

He then set about making jugs for the upcoming lambing. The jugs are tiny “mothering on” pens that will force bonding between the ewe and lambs. Outfitted with heatlamps, the pens also provide a warm, draft-free environment for the newborns.

It was good to get all this done prior to the cold weather that arrived this morning. Attempting to work in the bitter cold with swirling snow blowing in one’s face and ewes complaining loudly about the noise and lack of food can be more than anyone would want to experience…especially before breakfast or in a panic in the middle of the night.

Since all the prep work is done, we are in “wait and see” mode until the lambs begin to arrive. That should be sometime next week. Then, we begin the intense phase of shepherding.

A shepherd’s job is never done!

'Bout Time!

2012-01-03T12:50:00.013-05:00

In the 5,249 days (as of 11/27/11) that we have inhabited our house on the hill, the kitchen had seen somewhere between 10,498 and 15,747 meals prepared. I cannot begin to calculate the number of dishes washed by hand at the kitchen sink.

In addition to preparing food for the family…there was that 10 year stint of breadmaking. In excess of 25,000 (yes, THOUSAND) loaves of bread and/or pans of rolls were mixed, rolled and baked in our kitchen.

“Big Mo”, the mixer, ruled the kitchen on Fridays as baking for the Market took over the entire house. I suppose this would explain why we have also had 3 or 4 stoves, 2 microwaves and 3 refrigerators. “Big Mo” has since moved on to mix elsewhere. Mercifully, all current baking done is on a family scale, not the huge amounts required for Market.

The kitchen has been a workspace defying precise description. Schoolwork and art projects were done on the kitchen table. Discussions concerning life’s deeper subjects have been had while trying new recipes or washing the dishes. Various baby animals made their way (albeit temporarily) into the house for various reasons. I know I've seen lambs and kittens and chicks in my kitchen. I seem to remember a pony coming through...perhaps that one was only a dream. Surely, no one would think to bring their pony in the HOUSE! There was once a wild bird flying about for a short time. Not to mention a parrot...and parakeets. Vet books, seed catalogs and animal medications have found homes on its various surfaces.

The kitchen had seen years of home canning with all its messiness and some serious deep cleaning for VDACs kitchen inspections. It is the heart of our home, and as a farmhouse kitchen has seen uses suburban or city kitchens never would.

We’ve laughed, cried, played games, shared meals and attempted to “solve the world’s problems” gathered around the table.
We’ve entertained friends and met prospective sons-in-law. The kitchen has served as a research station, experiment lab and entertainment center.

In short, it was ‘bout time we did a major overhaul.

It took four coats of paint, some wallpaper and new outlet covers.

Wowee! It doesn’t seem like the same place!

Wonder what the next 5,249 days will bring?

In the Land of Black Cows

2012-01-02T06:13:00.011-05:00

In some parts of the County, the bovine residents outnumber the humans by a fairly large margin. Most of those cows are Angus of some percentage. The proper name for the breed is Aberdeen Angus.

It occurred to me that the cows I take for granted as part of the landscape are actually an integral part of the food supply in this country. The calves born and raised in the fields around here eventually end up as steaks and roasts elsewhere.

But, do you know why they are all black?

There are a lot of cattle breeds. Each has its strengths and special uses. The black and white Holsteins are awesome milk machines. These cows make up the population of most of the dairies. At the end of their productive life, a large number of them end up as hamburgers across the nation, thus filling another need.

The beautiful, brown Jerseys also make up a portion of the dairy population. They are known for their high butterfat content. Some dairies are changing over to a larger number of these cows. While their production isn’t as amazing as the Holsteins, the taste and quality of their milk makes up for it.

But, in the beef world, the black Angus rules. This is the breed that satisfies the beef consumption of this country. There is even a marketing program offering “certified Angus”. Folks just like the taste.

The Angus breed grows out well, requiring less management time than some more “delicate and exotic” breeds. For the farms in the more remote areas of the Valley, this heartiness is a necessary quality. These cows don’t generally need a lot of maintenance.

There’s a saying that an Angus will kick first and ask questions later. I can personally attest to this fact. I’ve been kicked, butted and chased by more than one black cow over the years. While this protective quality can cause some management issues, it also means that the survival rate is better than some other breeds.

The cows are fertile, attentive mothers. This means that the cattle farmer doesn’t generally need to assist in the birthing process or aid in the mothering of the calves.

The calves grow out well with a large meat to bone ratio.

The bulls are just awesome creatures.

There are a fair number of the red and white Herefords around the Valley, and the longhorns are increasing in number. Both of these breeds make for some tasty meals as well. But, the Angus will probably always rule in the beef world...filling supper plates across the nation...
…and outnumbering the humans in parts of the County.

Looking Forward

2012-01-01T06:40:00.009-05:00

It’s a new year….a fresh start, a blank page…yet unwritten history. Makes you wonder just what will happen as 2012 unfolds.

The world is such an uncertain and potentially volatile place. Political uprisings, violent weather systems and economic uncertainties are sure to make the headlines. Although it may be short-sighted and somewhat isolating, I find it so re-assuring to focus on the issues of the farm. Despite the change of the calendar, the cycle of farm life rolls on with a level of predictability not found elsewhere.

Two weeks from now, we will be entering the intense period of time that is lambing season. That means there is some pressing work to do in the meantime, building jugs and making sure the ewes are in good shape. Lambing season marks the beginning of the production cycle here on the hill.

Our inventory of seeds will be cataloged and our gardening needs identified so that orders can be placed. We scheduled the early spring brassicas (broccoli/cauliflower/cabbage) to be planted in the garden in late March. That means we will be starting those seeds in the next few weeks.

Onion plants were ordered yesterday. They will arrive in March as well.

The greenhouses will be cleaned out and readied for the heavy use that they see in the early spring. The hoophouses will be filled with verdant young plants.

It won’t be long until the green plants show blossoms and the blossoms give way to fruit and vegetables
and we will find ourselves in the thick of the harvest season.

The cycle will continue.

This year, we know that there will be a new variable in the mix. Its possible far-reaching effects remain to be seen. The Market is opening a Wednesday morning market downtown. The Boss will be managing this one as well as the Saturday Market that he has managed for years. Our vendor status at this market is a little uncertain at present. One thing is certain; it will change things here on the hill.

As we look forward beyond the first cold, clear sunrise of the New Year and we start filling in those blank dates on the calendar, it must be with optimism and enthusiasm. There are certain to be successes and failures, good times and bad. Each will be an important part of the upcoming year.

2012…bring it!

Looking Back

2011-12-31T19:09:00.016-05:00

It’s the end of another year.

I realize I am not alone in my mixed feelings of nostalgia and anticipation when faced with the knowledge that 2011 is ending and 2012 is about to begin. My feelings have been intensified by the fact that part of today was devoted to our review of the past growing season and our planning of the next.

Overall, 2011 has been a good year. Most of our crops did well, the family is happy and healthy,

and we are still enjoying farming our little plot of earth. Those things count for success…no matter what else may have occurred.

The cycle of life on the farm continues ad infinitum. The predictability of farming is somewhat monotonous, but also incredibly comforting. The planning that we did today will enable us to grow the crops that we enjoy eating and selling. The successes and failures of the past year grant us understanding for the upcoming years.

In 2011, we had the best lambchop crop so far. We’ve got some beautiful cuts of meat in the freezer that should satisfy sales until the 2012 lambs are ready to process.
That in and of itself marks some sort of progress. There is a definitely a learning curve to growing and selling any type of product; I think we finally figured out the lamb thing.

This was the first “normal” year that it’s just been the Boss and me workin’ the farm. …and you know what? We did a good job. A real good job! Sometimes I think we forget that it’s really okay to be more than a little impressed with ourselves. We make a real good team! (and…YES, I know my grammar is abysmal in this paragraph)

Our onion crop was amazing!
After a complete failure last year, it was most gratifying to see all those beautiful onions drying in the sun back in July. It is even more gratifying to know that they are safely chilling in the reefer and can be offered for sale all winter!

We finally figured out the problem with the laying hens last winter. The Boss built a new henhouse with metal nestboxes (no places for nasty mites to hide) and an automatic door! (no more going out in the cold and dark of night!)

We got the reefer up the hill safely and have it up and running. This enables us to grow more, store more and ultimately SELL MORE!

We processed (and SOLD) 5 times the number of broilers than we have ever processed before. While I love chicken in all its various presentations, this fact truly boggles my mind. …and…we are NOT going to increase our numbers.

We’ve been able to offer bagged lettuce…and other greens…every single week. This has been a challenge, and there is room for improvement, but it was a success nonetheless!

I was able to meet a personal goal of blogging on a “regular” basis. I truly hope that this grants some insight and appreciation to any readers. Farming is a great adventure…thanks for sharing it with me!

October 29, 2011 was the first Market day that measurable SNOW threatened Market traffic. When it was all said and done, those 4 inches of the white stuff really didn’t impact the Market as negatively as we had feared. We have yet another reason to be thankful.

The failures were kept to a minimum this year. For this we are truly grateful!

In order to note the failures, I must state that ALL the winter squash died prior to any production. This was a complete failure and utter bummer. But, it granted some amusement to another Market vendor when I had to buy from him! (Can I count that as a success? Haha) Some of the winter lettuce bolted (went to seed) because of the warm fall weather. That problem was solved by planting more lettuce of another variety. The losses were definitely outweighed by our successes.

When we look back over the successes (and failures), we know what areas need attention in the coming year. We can adjust and carry on. We are thankful for what we have learned and the challenges that have strengthened us. We are especially thankful for our customer-friends who make this thing work!

Looking back, 2011 was a good year. It definitely goes in the “success” column.

Now, it’s time to LOOK FORWARD!

A Fun Trip

2011-12-21T06:54:00.008-05:00

Yesterday, Jed was scheduled for his yearly appointment with the vet. Loading one hundred pounds of fur and drool in the back of my vehicle always makes for a “fun” morning.

Wonder of wonders…all the barn kitties were present and accounted for when I did chores. Haha! Before they had time to finish their breakfast, I scooped them all up into the cat cage and decided to make it a group vet trip.

The cats set up a very vocal demonstration at being locked in the cage in the back of my vehicle. I began to wonder if this was such a good idea. Jed hopped right up beside them and settled in for a roadtrip. I have no idea why…but, he seems to enjoy riding in the car. He does, however, attempt to ride in the front seat. Once we worked out the seating arrangements, we were off. Everything is fine unless he stands up…then, I’m driving with absolutely no way to see out the back window or rearview mirror. This trip to the vet involved lots of radio volume adjustment (LOUD to drown out the caterwauling) and lots of “down, Jed!”

The receptionist looked rather strained when I asked if they could add all the cats into the visit, but she was pleasant about fitting the whole crew into the schedule. I must say, it was weird to hear them call “the Womack family” as I hauled 100 pounds of dog and 25 pounds of cat into the exam room.

Jed was whisked off for a weight and blood test. The cats waited anxiously for their rabies shots.

Once the cats were given their shots, we had to wait for the results of Jed’s test.

The cats all snuggled down for a little cat nap. If it hadn’t been for Jed’s incessant nervous panting, I could have dozed off as well.

Vet exam done, I hauled everyone back out to my waiting vehicle.

Back inside, the bill made me involuntarily gasp “wow!” (and not in a good way). But, now they’re vaccinated and medicated and we’re good to go until next year. The trip home was pleasantly uneventful.

Next week, Ellie goes for her vet check. Ellie doesn’t like travelling, the vet, or shots…that promises to be even more fun than this trip.

The Heart of the Farm

2011-12-12T06:52:00.014-05:00

Iconic in rural American landscape, a barn identifies a farm. While most immediately think of a red barn with white trim and a gambrel roof line, there are all sorts of barns. There are dairy barns, hay barns, poultry barns, and multi-use barns. The styles abound; there are bank barns, pole barns, big barns, and little barns. Barns for horses are called stables. For every type of farming, there is specific barn style.

In some ways, a barn is almost a living organism. Over the years, it grows and changes, somehow taking on new subtleties of character. The history of a farm can be traced by observing the changes in the barn structure and design.

Barns are fascinating places. Old barns have a character and “personality” that newer structures do not. It as if you can sense the history, smell the hay and grains, and hear the long gone inhabitants. Certain places are worn from much use: the haymow where cows often ate, the gate where the farmer’s glove rubbed as he opened it, the post that was “just right” for itchy animals to scratch. It is only wishful thinking but, if the walls could talk…

Back in ’97, our barn was just a brand-new, red, rectangular building. We hadn’t even decided exactly how we wanted to utilize the space. Gates were installed, walls erected, animals housed. We were in business. Ours was definitely going to be a “multi-use” barn.

After a very short time, the need for an addition was obvious...then another, and another. Like a crazy quilt, the different materials were stitched together, making the barn we have today. Since we have no level ground here on the hill, the barn is different levels as well as different building styles. Over the years, it has developed character and atmosphere. It’s hard to remember the days of the brand-new barn.

Our barn has seen more living and dying than anywhere else on the farm. Deep philosophical subjects have been debated, hilarious stories told, and tears shed while sitting on hay bales and overturned buckets. Life lessons have been learned in unforgettable ways. Patience was tested and strengthened while waiting for the vet. Learning biology and animal husbandry through the “hands-on” approach has been invaluable.
The barn has seen all sorts of animal inhabitants, visitors from other countries and the routines of daily farm chores. It stores the feedstuffs, provides shelter for the animals, and allows us a place to compose ourselves when the stresses of everyday life get a little much.

In short, the barn is the heart of the farm.

A New Use for an Old Greenhouse

2011-12-09T06:26:00.013-05:00

When we built the house in ’97, we had specific plans to attach a greenhouse at some point. The builder looked askance when we told him NOT to put a window on the back side of one room because we were going to build a greenhouse. Actually, the builder looked askance fairly frequently at some of our strange requests…

In 1999, the Boss finally got around to building that greenhouse. We have used it constantly ever since. Without it we couldn’t start our seedlings for planting and would be forced to buy starts. This would get incredibly expensive. By starting our own seedlings, we are also able to have a diversity of plants and varieties that would otherwise be impossible.

We have used it for all sorts of other projects, too. Drying things, painting things, you name it, the greenhouse has probably seen that kind of use.

However, we never intended to use it as easy access to the roof. Never even thought of that one!

The back porch is fairly close to the greenhouse. The curved shape makes it accessible to the cats. One of the cats found that by jumping from the porch to the greenhouse, the roof is an easy climb. What a vantage point for bird “watching”!

One cat had an ongoing “issue” with a mockingbird who would sit on the roof and mock her. She took matters into her own paws and began stalking the bird while it sat on the roof! There are little claw marks up one side of the plastic where cat traffic has been repeatedly.

We hadn’t had a cat on the roof for a long time…until yesterday.

The Boss and I were in the office when we heard a BOING…or was it a THUMP?... outside. “WHAT was THAT?” The sound reminded me of…reminded me of…oh, yeah…a cat on the greenhouse!

When I walked out back, there he was…scaling the roof. The Indiana Jones of the cat world.

Booooyyy was checking out the chimney, talking to himself. By the time he got over the ridge and down to the front porch, he had apparently decided this adventure thing wasn’t such a good idea, and he started to cry. (look close, he's under the dormer) The dogs were cavorting around, trying to figure out how to get their furry immenseness up there and have a little fun. The more he cried, the more they cavorted. I called them all from the backyard.

The thrill of adventure behind him, Booooyyy went back over the house to begin the descent.
Hmmm, looks like it’s a long way down!

Mama? Help me Mama!

Oh, wait….what’s this interesting thing? Hmm, something to eat?

Finally, he decided to hop off the side of the greenhouse.

With that adventure over, he’s off looking for something to eat elsewhere.

With interruptions like this one being regular occurrences...it's no wonder I don't get anything done!

Benefits of Barn Kitties

2011-12-07T06:28:00.012-05:00

Most every barn I’ve ever been in has had at least one resident cat.

When a barn is used for grain storage, it is like issuing an open invitation to rodents and critters from near and far. All too easily these visitors can get way out of hand. Enter the BARN CAT!

Years ago, Miss Kitty showed up on the farm. Hugely pregnant and incredibly hungry, she was first seen swiping a piece of buttered bread from the chicken bucket on the back porch. Over time, she had her kittens, became tame enough to pet, and eventually made her way inside. It’s been well over 13 years since our first meeting, and she’s still part of farm life here on the hill. She’s moving way slower these days, but she still does her fair share on the rodent patrol in the barn. She has also moved back to the barn and seems to favor the warmth of the hoophouse.

About two years ago Squeekie showed up. She was just a timid kitten when we first began seeing her. She, too, had a litter of kittens. (Since then, ALL the cats have been “fixed”) Despite our continued interaction with her, she is just not as friendly as “Mert” (Miss Kitty doesn’t MEOW…she usually just says “mert”…hence, the nickname.) She is a nice cat and a tireless hunter, nonetheless.

Squeekie chose the hayloft to have her kittens. There was the cutest little nest of four kitties. One did not survive. Somehow, the survivors ended up staying. Correction, two stayed, one moved in with A & T and continued the family line elsewhere. The kittens are grown cats now; “Booooyyy” has even gotten his own blog entries, while Sissie is the kittie beauty queen.

With all these cats, there are no rodents chewing through feedsacks, and no birds bringing with them the possibility of coccidiosis. Voles and shrews, and even moles are quickly dispatched. There’s not too much chance of any type of pest staying in the barn for long. This is fine by us!

The cats’ antics provide some much appreciated amusement along the way, too. It is not unusual to see them catapult into the loft or race through the barn in hot pursuit of each other, or sleeping together in a fuzzy kitty pile. Their interaction with the dogs create some funny moments as well. They are all somewhat friendly and funny and allow a warm cuddle now and then.

But, quite possibly their best quality….they LOVE to eat GRASSHOPPERS! As a matter of fact, the horrible pests seems to be a preferred summer delicacy.

Considering the amount of damage grasshoppers cause us, we're glad for all the help we can get.

Yay, Barn Kitties!

Moving Day....er, Night

2011-12-06T05:48:00.011-05:00

After the new henhouse was completed, it was time to re-locate the hens. It is best to move chickens after dark when they are somewhat drowsy. Otherwise, it just becomes an aggravating chase with lots of squawking and cussing.

To keep the chaos to a minimum, Jed and Ellie were relegated to the barn. Poor dogs…they miss out on ALL the "fun"!

The Boss moved the old henhouse (with the hens inside) out of the way of the new one.

Feed was placed in the new henhouse, as the hens will have to stay inside for a day to get acclimated to their new digs.

Then the hens were caught and rather unceremoniously moved to the new house.

Look at their spacious new dwelling! They should be impressed…

Nah, they squawked a little, found comfortable sleeping arrangements (one decided to sleep ON the feeder) and went back to sleep, snoring their little chicken snores.

The electric net fence was replaced. Job complete!

After a day, the Boss will let them out to forage once more. At this point, he will also add the second nest box to the house. It had to stay during construction of the new house so the girls would have someplace to lay their eggs…and THEN he will find out just how well his automatic chicken door closer works!

In the meantime, since Jed and Ellie were released from the barn, they are intent on investigating the old chicken house that is now parked in the backyard.

It is just a matter of time until it morphs into something else. Just a matter of time…

All the Modern Conveniences

2011-12-05T17:18:00.010-05:00

When the Boss bought the old horse trailer to re-furbish into a henhouse, I had more than a few doubts. Since he could see the finished project in his head and I wasn’t able to imagine it, I really wondered. But, as it nears completion, I am more than a little impressed.

The hens really needed some more space, particularly when the weather is bad and they cannot get outside. After the mite issue last winter, we purchased metal nestboxes and really needed to get both units into use. When spring comes and the pullets begin to lay, the large flock of laying hens would be quite crowded in our old henhouse.

After a good deal of demolition, the new construction began.

There are hinged shutters that will allow ventilation during hot summer days, but keep the snow and cold at bay in the winter.

Poly-carbonate wall panels allow some light, while keeping it dark enough for the hens to feel safe enough to lay their eggs. The end was closed in and a "people door" installed.

The metal nest boxes have “roll-out” trays to keep the eggs clean and un-eaten. The fact they are metal with no bedding will prevent the nasty mites from finding a comfortable home. There will be another unit placed opposite of this one.

The wire floor is stable enough for human traffic, but open enough to allow the chicken manure to fall through, keeping the henhouse and hens clean.

But, the “piece de resistance”, the most modern of modern conveniences is an electric timer on the door.
This is something we have missed for a long time. Our henhouse back in Warrenton had a similar device. Pick the time; set the switch and prest-o…the chickens are closed in safely for the night! No more trips out in the cold, rain, snow, dark. No more forgetting the nightly closing due to senior moments or an early onset of sleep. Never again will we wake in the middle of the night unable to remember if we did indeed lock the chicken door.

Yippee! The Boss is brilliant!

Now, the fun part begins…the big hen transfer…
That’s a job for after dark, when all the hens are sleepy and complacent.

Here we go…

Solar Power

2011-12-05T06:47:00.007-05:00

This time of year, the hoophouse can be either a place to find great delight, or have a moment of complete despair.

With night time temperatures dipping into the twenties, the plants in the hoophouse often freeze solid overnight. The first time I witnessed this phenomenon, I was certain that we had lost the entire crop. I went back a couple hours later and was totally amazed at the transformation. The wilted, frozen plants were strong and straight and vibrant. WOW!

As long as the plants are protected from the winds, and somewhat sheltered from the cold, they will survive. On extremely cold nights, we put row cover on the young, delicate plantings. While we must accept some minimal loss throughout the winter, the amount of growth in the UN-heated hoophouses always amazes me. Some cloudy days the plants will stay frozen, only to have them bound back to verdant beauty with the next sunny day.

It might not be a trip to the islands, but on a sunny day it is green and warm and wonderful. ...not to mention profitable!

I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry

2011-12-04T16:48:00.010-05:00

Waylon’s life has been like a country song.

He left his mama and the home farm behind. He found himself in with a gang of other misguided youth. Then, he had “women”…lots of them! …and now, he’s incarcerated and alone. SO alone!

Last month, Waylon headed out to the ram paddock. You can read about that here. http://homesteadhillfarm.blogspot.com/2011/11/waylons-really-bad-day.html

Since then, he has paced, he has cried, he has butted the fence, he has cried, he has climbed the fence, he has cried. He injured himself attempting to stand on the gate to look for his missing girlfriends. The best explanation of his injury would be a sprained ankle. He hobbled around for more than a week, crying the whole time. He finally made a complete recovery.

Last week, he stopped eating well. Then, he stopped eating at all. He would nibble at things, but there was no enthusiasm to his eating, no real appetite. He looked thin. I worried.

When I worry, I in turn worry the Boss. I get more than a little repetitive as I try to figure out solutions. I am probably about as annoying as Waylon’s crying. The difference is, I apologize—Waylon does NOT.

In considering solutions, we checked his health. Sheep can be victim of several internal parasites. The one with the most visible effects is the Haemonchus Contortus, the red stomach worm. This parasite survives on the host’s blood, and anemia very quickly follows infestation. Waylon’s eyelids and eyes were pale. This demanded prompt action. He was given and antihelmintic and a probiotic immediately. The antihelmintic kills the parasites, the probiotic restores the good "bugs" to the gut and encourages appetite.

The following morning, his appetite was back, he had a little zip to him. But, he was still crying…

We have already been through the list of solutions. Get him a “friend” was the most likely one. However, that is much easier said than done. This time of year, all the shepherds are down to their breeding stock. A donkey might work, but we didn’t want to introduce the handling issues of another species. (someday I’ll have to tell about our llama of long ago, Shirley) Besides, it was quite possible Waylon would freak out with a donkey and then we’d have a whole new set of problems.

The decision was made to let one of the little girls go live with him for a while. This will more than likely produce lambs at a weird time of year, but there are worse things. Like a dead ram, for one. Once we get the lambchop crop of 2012 on the ground, we can figure out a better long-term solution.

In the meantime, just one more day of Waylon…..”Crying, crying, crying over ewes…” (Roy Orbison, I apologize. I went for the pun...I really couldn't help it!)

**for the record, I DO know that the title is Hank, Sr. …not Waylon Jennings!**

What's All the Ruckus?

2011-12-03T06:50:00.006-05:00

Part of Jed and Ellie Mae’s job as our guard dogs is to alert us of anything unusual. However, their “definition” of unusual and ours is vastly different. More than once I have found myself saying “WHAT…What are you barking at?” only to realize I am talking to a dog.

The cold, clear nights of late fall and early winter cause all the wild critters to come out to forage. There are skunks and raccoons, and a LOT of deer. Quite often, the dogs will spend most of the night patrolling and barking. Then, they spend the rest of the day sleeping in order to recuperate for the following night. Yes, sometimes this is truly annoying. But, it is their nature, and part of the reason we have them.

Recently, the deer have been quite active. Not only is it the “rut” (mating season), it’s also hunting season. We see deer most every day. The Boss and I have both startled a doe (on separate occasions) within 50 feet of the house. So, the dogs have been doing a LOT of barking. We have learned to “zone them out”.

Thursday, they began barking during morning chores. Sure enough, when I looked, there was at least one deer visible. As I watched to see if more followed it up the hill, I heard yelling from down in town. Apparently, one of the town neighbors’ dog had escaped. First, the kid called the dog. Then, the mama called the dog. Then, the dad called the dog. Finally, the whole family called the dog. Each and every time they yelled, Jed and Ellie barked.

The bark of a Great Pyrenees is a deep and sonorous bark. It is an impressive, rather pleasing sound. (Unless, of course, it is the middle of the night.) The sound carries a long way so I was not surprised to see the neighbor’s vehicle come up the lane in response to the barking. Jed and Ellie bounded up the drive and barked at the gate. I suppose the neighbors realized these huge white “bark-meisters” were NOT their dog, because they drove off quickly. Things calmed down.

I had just decided what to have for breakfast, when they broke out barking again. NOW WHAT?? With the thought of a dog on the loose, I went back out to check the sheep. An aside here, more sheep are maimed, severely injured or killed by pet dogs than any other type of predator. So, a check of the sheep paddock was in order.

All the sheep were facing down the hill, staring intently at something. My immediate thought was that it must be the rogue dog. Since it was far enough away that the dogs couldn’t get to it and I couldn’t tell exactly what it was, I got my camera in order to use the telephoto to see better. I could tell it was a bird of some type. The size indicated a bird of prey. I figured it was a red-tailed hawk. We see those quite often. The hunting is quite good with all the undergrowth along the fencelines.

As I watched, one of the more curious sheep walked closer. When she did, the bird took flight. Jed and Ellie went nuts! What in the world? It was NOT a hawk, but a great blue heron. Herons are frequently seen fishing along Back Creek. This creek runs through the front of our property.

Jed and Ellie were not satisfied that the heron flew into the neighbor’s field. They fussed and worried over him/her until finally the heron flew away, and has not been seen since.

The rest of the day was relatively peaceful…...as Jed and Ellie Mae rested up for another round of farm patrol.

Poor Popeye!

2011-11-28T06:55:00.009-05:00

While watching the cartoons as a small child, I always wondered how a can of “black glop” squeezed into Popeye’s mouth would instantly give him super strength. Yes, I am dating myself here; yes, it was in the days of black and white television. However, I did wonder HOW that “spinach” worked so quickly.

As an adult, I realize it was some slick propaganda to get kids to eat their veggies. Perhaps the whole Popeye concept was dreamed up by the spinach lobbyists of the day. At the dinner table where I grew up, we were expected to eat our vegetables…no questions asked. If you didn’t eat them…you didn’t leave the table. That, my friends, is how I learned appreciation for the “lowly vegetable”.

Looking back, I really feel for poor Popeye. I cannot imagine anything worse than canned spinach. Blech! Canned vegetables do not have the nutritive value of fresh, or even frozen. The texture and taste leave much to be desired. Spinach, fresh from the garden, is a delicious, nutritious addition to any meal. I do not want to consider what canned spinach must be like.

Spinach is one our most popular offerings for sale. This is presumably because of its highly nutritious reputation. I have heard it said that a serving of spinach has four times the vitamins as the same amount of lettuce. Although, I should think that this would depend on the type of lettuce.

“Nutritional Benefits
Spinach is rich in a number of essential nutrients, including calcium, folate, iron, magnesium, vitamin C and vitamin A. Each of these nutrients plays a crucial role in our bodies health, from maintaining bone structure, preventing neural tube defects, assisting in red blood cell production, regulating our heartbeat, fighting free radicals and nourishing good eyesight.
Eating spinach feeds a healthy body. Spinach is also a great source of lutein and zeaxanthin, two carotenoid phytonutrients that are important for healthy eyes.”

(http://www.lifescript.com/food/articles/s/spinach_nutrition_facts.aspx)

We grow a number of varieties of spinach. By knowing the strengths and weaknesses of each type and providing the proper growing environment, we are able to have spinach year round. I have yet another reason to love the hoophouses.

This past summer, I was witness to the bolting phenomenon of spinach. While I know that spinach seeds came from spinach plants, I had never seen them in their growing stages. It was most interesting. Here are some shots of the forming seeds.

These are spinach seedlings. They look very much like chubby grass at this point.

This is the very beginning of the bolt. These little hairy things hold the spinach pollen.

Here they are just a little more mature.

These are very tiny spinach seeds. Cool process, huh?

We don’t attempt to save our own seeds for most crops. Although there are those who are great proponents of seed-saving, and there is a worry that genetic diversity may one day be lost without effort on the part of growers, we simply do not have the space to have a seed stock crop AND a crop for profit. So, we’ll do our part to keep the seed companies in business.

When I pick spinach in the hoophouse in the middle of the winter, and even in the middle of the summer…I do so knowing that we (or our customer-friends) will enjoy the fresh taste in salads and on sandwiches, boiled on its own or in other dishes.

…and I think….”oh, poor Popeye! …if he only knew what he was missing!”

Apples to Oranges

2011-11-27T08:36:00.017-05:00

Oh, ARRRGGGGHHH!

I need to rant. It doesn’t happen often… No, I take that back…it happens almost every time I read an article about local, organic, sustainable food. I would like to take the time right here, right now to educate SOMEONE…anyone.

Just last week, in an effort to cover the “local food movement”, one of the local TV stations sent a reporter to the Market, covered a chef shopping local and featured the story on the nightly news. In an attempt to make a price comparison, they also checked prices at one of the local grocery stores. The upshot of the story ended up being that “local” food is twice as expensive as the “other stuff”.

WAIT A MINUTE! Wait just one daggone minute here! Not to go all “Herman Cain”, but this is like comparing apples to oranges!

This brought to mind my reaction to a letter to the editor in the local paper during the summer regarding high prices at the Farmers’ Market. I knew I should have posted that one earlier. The discussion about local food cannot be summed up in a discussion about cheap prices.

Bear with me…I’ve just gotta get this one out there…

Before I get rolling, I want to say…I think, no, I know that we need corporate farms to feed the world. I don’t even want to get into the discussion of superiority of any type of farming or food. My intention is merely to point out that comparison between grocery and Market is bogus.

Anyone who does any amount of grocery shopping knows what kind of prices one might pay for produce. There are stores that have a reputation for being “high-end” and others where you can get a “bargain”. Both definitions are highly subjective and open to personal interpretation. Ultimately, personal tastes and priorities make the basis for purchase decisions.

While I will concede that there are prices at the Market that seem steep. There are also products at the Market that cannot be found elsewhere. You will never get anything in the grocery that is even remotely as fresh as the produce from the Market! Thus, I don’t believe an accurate comparison can be made at all.

Most the folks who feel that the Farmers’ market prices are MUCH TOO high have never even shopped the farmers’ market (in Staunton or anywhere else). Most times, the prices are close to the grocery prices, as the vendors realize what the public is willing to pay. Although, lower prices do not always mean more sales, and there is a point when it is no longer profitable to sell an item. Many times, farmers don’t know exactly what they put into a crop, what they should get out of it, so they go by the grocery, check the price and either use that price or something slightly higher. This is not a necessarily a good plan, as vegetables are often the “loss leader” (the low price that gets the shopper in the store, only to have them spend far more on other things).

During the “holiday season”, turkeys and hams are priced cheaply to promote their sales. The turkeys and hams have been produced by farmers working for the big names in the food industry. The producers have grown out HUGE numbers and the most basic tenets of economics state that the larger number produced, the smaller the investment in each unit, and ultimately the higher profit per unit. This is one reason a Geo is far cheaper than a Bentley. The stores get quantity discounting and know that when they get the shoppers in for a DEAL they will also buy the rest of their holiday food at regular or in some cases, inflated prices.

In all fairness to farmers, they should be able to make a good living growing food for other folks’ consumption! They are professionals, after all. They possess a knowledge that most do not when it comes to producing food in a safe, economical and delicious manner. Try farming, just for a day, you’ll come away with a new appreciation.

Years ago, I had a conversation with my father as he was watching me prepare beans for canning. He said, “Why should I bother to put up any green beans when I can buy them for 29cents at Rack and Sack (a local grocery)?” I attempted to argue freshness and food safety, knowing full well that the almighty dollar was always the deciding factor to him. I conceded that if price alone was the criterion, then, by all means...buy the beans. A side note...apparently Rack and Sack found that cheap wasn’t sustainable...they went out of business. On the other hand, I still put up beans, and know exactly where those beans grew, how they were processed, and that there are ONLY beans in my jars or freezer containers.

If the “bottom line” is the only deciding factor, then everyone would eat the very cheapest thing they could. Flavor, nutrition and personal preference would no longer matter. However, freshness, quality, food safety, and investment in the community are some other issues that shoppers at the Farmers market consider. Most shoppers find those attributes very important, and are willing to make the commitment to shop the market in order to obtain them.

Food in the grocery has often travelled across the continent, if not the world to get to the shelves. There is no way this can be considered “fresh” when Market produce has been picked just the day prior to its sale. Most “fresh” produce in the grocery is at least a week old before it lands on the consumer’s table. For the record, “local” and “organic” do not mean what a lot of folks assume. Do a little research, you will be amazed.

When a shopper buys from Homestead Hill Farm, they are assured that the food they have chosen has only traveled the 12 miles to town from our farm. The only exception is the lamb, which had to travel north of H’burg to be processed in a USDA facility. This is federally mandated, not simply our choice. The entire market is held to a 50-mile radius to keep us truly “LOCAL”. One note about the Farmers’ market…everything there is NOT organic…the consumers really need to educate themselves. (do not rely on the media)

When shopping for the food you put in your body, your fuel as it were, there is far more at stake than “cheap” produce. Your own health and well-being may well be affected by your choices. As produce ages, it loses its precious nutritive value.

If you are concerned about freshness or safety, I can personally assure you an answer. Try that one at the grocery; I can almost assure you a blank look and a “I dunno!” The Boss and I have had personal involvement with everything we offer for sale.

If you value the rural beauty of our area,
if you wish to have the ability to share this with your children and grandchildren,an investment in the fabric of the community is necessary. The effort put forth by the farmers in our area to maintain their crops and fields is part of the reason that folks travel from around the world to enjoy the loveliness that is our own Shenandoah Valley.

Farming is hard physically, mentally, and sometimes emotionally. When the farmers’ investment is considered, particularly of time and effort, no one would ever say prices are too high. One summer day, SiL#1 was picking beans with me and daughter #1. He had never done it before, and wasn’t too thrilled at the idea. He picked a while, and then said...”you need to charge more for your beans!” WHY? “You work HARD!” (yep, he sure scored points with the old mother-in-law!) He just chuckled when I told him to come to the Market and tell people that. A little personal experience goes a long way in promoting a consumer’s appreciation for farm products.

Don’t get me wrong…I love what I do! I would actually do this type of work regardless of the return; it is so deeply ingrained in my very being. However, to compare the products offered for sale from here on the hill and those in the grocery is just wrong. There is NO comparison plain and simple.

Food choices are intensely personal. Leave it at that. Let’s not attempt to make them simply a matter of economy.

Thanks for listening!

The "Off " Season

2011-11-26T06:36:00.016-05:00

The Market is over for the 2011 season. November 19 was the final Saturday. It was an incredibly successful season, and we are grateful to each of our customer-friends for their continued support.

This week, instead of hustling around in the dark and the cold, getting everything ready for a morning of sales, the Boss is drinking coffee and checking the news. Instead of feeding the animals by flashlight prior to driving to town, I am sitting here writing and reflecting on the season that was.

A lot of folks think that once the Market ends for the season that we are “on vacation” until opening day of the following season. Nothing could be further from the truth. While we took it easy this week in anticipation of Thanksgiving with the family, farm work never takes a vacation. So, we’re back at it today, allowing for the seasonal changes in our work routine.

Planting and harvesting slow down to a crawl,
although the cycle continues in the greenhouses year-round. There is a lot of focus on repair and maintenance, planning and preparation. Sorry, no trip to the islands this year. Not that we could, or would, even want to leave our farm here on the hill. Okay, on a real cold, snowy day, I must admit, the islands look REAL good!

Years ago, when we would get the question…WHAT do you do all winter? My answer was “all the stuff we don’t get done in the summer!” That was definitely true. Our homeschooling was a definite “low priority” during the Market season. We tried to buckle down to lessons during the winter. We took family day-trips, caught up on paperwork, and I sewed furiously for the girls to be clothed the next season. The Boss’ winter priorities for the farm were keeping the cows in hay and water to the rest of the animals, while keeping our home warmed by the wood in the woodstove. Winter crops were un-heard of; we were focused on subsistence and survival. Our life was very much like “little house on the prairie” for a while…

Now, we are not quite so isolated, not quite so self-sufficient, although the woodstove still warms us. The girls are grown and married, so our homeschooling is a distant memory. The cows (and their dairy products) are gone, and the sheep don’t eat near the amounts of hay the cows would. We have developed winter crops for sale, and deliver them on a weekly basis. The winter season seems far shorter, somehow.

Winter sales, lambing season, seed starting, researching new crop varieties and farm bookwork all take a toll on my time.
Somehow, all those little things I overlooked during the season are waiting for my attention as well. The Boss is busy with those big building projects that can’t get done in the summer.

New construction, repair, revision…there’s always something that needs his attention.He is also thinking ahead to next Market season. As manager of the Market and committee member, he spends a great deal of time focused on assuring the ongoing viability of the Market.

There is a lot of “behind the scenes” work that enables us to provide products to the Market every single week from April to November. So, the term “off season” is more than a little misleading.
It's only by putting effort into the "off-season" that we are able to be successful during the Market season.

For THIS, Dear Lord, I am TRULY Grateful!

2011-11-25T19:16:00.008-05:00

(this didn't get posted on T-day....but, better late than never!)

Thanksgiving 2010 was to be THE Thanksgiving of all time. Yes, I did mean to write 2010.

We had so much for which to give thanks, so very much. It had been one for the history books.

The year started off with the record-breaking snowfall during the Winter of ’09-’10. Despite the cold and snow, the lamb crop was outstanding.

When Spring finally came, it was cold and damp. But, it was Market season again, and life got back in rhythm quickly. The Market season showed promise of being an excellent one.

Then, April 22 brought an end to life as we knew it and almost ended B’s life as well. She and J were hit head-on at an incredibly high speed. Rescue gave her a 5% chance of survival when they packed her in the helicopter that night. The impact of this incident is still felt by all of us, although to a somewhat lesser degree these days. Someone else’s reckless behavior and complete irresponsibility meant that B spent 34 days at UVA and another 5 months getting back on her feet (literally).

During that time, The Boss kept the farm going somehow,
J kept working and looking after B,
while A and T found a house and bought it.
Their wedding was scheduled for October, so we attempted to get all the details worked out during the summer. I spent my time split between B’s house and here…the hospital and physical therapy trips. There were a couple of times when the stress of it all threatened to overwhelm.

By the time B returned to work, A and T got married, and the Market wound down for the year, it was Thanksgiving. …and boy was I thankful. I was convinced it would be a wonderful Thanksgiving…”the mother of all Thanksgivings”.

However, events conspired against me and it was not the event that I thought it would be.

All that surviving/recovering had taken its toll. Everyone was tired. After our supper, a number of us dozed off. T was coming down with something and didn’t feel at all well. A was worried over him. J’s granddad passed away early in the morning that made for a bittersweet kind of undertone to the day. B had been featured in the newspaper for the one event in her life she was trying to forget. It was a gloomy, rainy cold day…no family picture on the front porch. Some of us had to work the next day, (Black Friday) so the mood wasn’t completely festive.

But, we were all together. All together…when it could have easily been a sad and horrible day. God had been merciful to us and we all knew it.

Fast forward to the present…

As Thanksgiving 2011 approached, I knew what I wanted. I wanted the picture I didn’t get last year. I wanted the day-long enjoyment of the family I love so very much. I wanted to make home-made, home-grown food for my family, and sit back and watch them enjoy it.

…and I wanted to make sure that each one of them appreciated that I thank God every day for every one of them. I won’t embarrass any of them by getting “all mushy” here. Suffice it to say…I have an awesome and amazing family…and I love each of them more deeply than they will ever know!

Everyone is healthy, happy and prospering. In some ways this year has been far superior to last. The number of things for which to be thankful is truly overwhelming. I may have had to wait an extra year for my family photo, but that’s okay… It was worth it.

For THIS, Dear Lord…..I am truly grateful!

...make that ETERNALLY grateful!

The Power of Food

2011-11-23T06:33:00.013-05:00

Food provides far more than nutritious fuel for our bodies. It provides a trigger for wonderful memories, an outlet for creativity, a chance to express our care for others, and the opportunity for bonding with those around us.

The memories in which food plays a part are some of the strongest in the human experience. This explains many of the “traditional foods” that are intrinsic to our celebrations. Think about it…don’t the smells of the holiday kitchen grant each of us a quick trip down memory lane?

Personally, food memories always call to mind my maternal grandmother. No one ever left without a “care package” from her kitchen. She offered food and drink to everyone who stopped by…even the mailman! On hot summer days, she would have an iced glass at the ready when he would stop to deliver the mail. She would then serve cookies and cold drinks to him and my grandfather as they sat on the porch and talked for a while before he continued his appointed rounds. She also encouraged me in my own kitchen endeavors.

Food allows us to fellowship with other human beings. There is something special in the breaking of bread together that draws us closer to those with whom we are sharing. Certain foods cause us to recall shared experiences; this in turn draws us closer to one another.

Years ago, my mother-in-law gave me a gift that would change my life. She gave me a box of her old cookbooks. She loved to cook and I appreciated her sharing her expertise with me. I knew that I had finally “arrived” when she gave me “Grandma Womack’s” roll recipe and entrusted me with the responsibility of making rolls for holiday meals. Needless to say, neither one of us ever imagined that my bread making would morph into thousands of loaves over the years as I baked for Market sales. While that phase of my life is behind me, and mother-in-law has passed on, I continue to think of her every time I make any type of yeast bread.

As a new wife, I knew little about actual food preparation. The Boss and I spent long hours watching the cooking shows on PBS and re-creating foods he had enjoyed along life’s way. In short, food allowed us a bonding that few other things could have. We both learned a lot, and I discovered I actually had a previously unknown talent. New recipes still offer the opportunity for creativity and expression.

Growing up in the country, in the South, the gift of food is the remedy for every one of life’s events. New baby? Take a casserole. Someone sick? Take food. Someone die, get married, have a bad day? Take food….LOTS of food. Holidays, birthdays, just because…take food. When you don’t know what else to do…take food. A home-cooked meal says “I LOVE YOU” like nothing else.

I find personal satisfaction in giving a gift of food. This is particularly true when sweets are given as a “thank you” gift. There is a reason for the old saying “the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach”! Home-grown food takes that one step further. Not only was the recipient thought about as the food was prepared, but even as it was growing.

To grow food allows us to have some small part in the rest of the human experience. It is an awesome responsibility to know that what we do here on the farm has the power to influence others in their thinking about food, their celebratory feasts, and their expressions of care for those around them.

That’s a responsibility we take quite seriously when growing, harvesting and processing the food products around here.

The food products we sell are the same ones we enjoy eating ourselves. When we plant and harvest and present things for sale at the Market, it is with the intention of bringing the very best we can to the table, to share in the experience of life.

So, as you gather ‘round the holiday table, know that we thought of you and yours while growing the food for your celebrations.

…oh, and HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

One Man's Junk

2011-11-15T12:51:00.011-05:00

I am fairly certain that when the proprietor of Mountain Valley Truck and Trailer found himself in possession of a 1980’s livestock trailer with a broken axle he did not think “oh, goodie…certainly someone can use this!” I am certain that he never thought the Boss would call and say “…now that would make a GREAT chicken house!” No, he was just trying to figure out how to get rid of the piece of junk.

When the news of the trailer made it through the family grapevine, I saw the wheels begin to turn in the Boss’ head. When he heard the price, I knew it was just a matter of time until it came to the farm. To be perfectly honest, I was in full agreement with him.

Once it was transported, it found a parking place next to shop.The dogs were impressed; it gave them some shade and a backrest. It looked cool sitting there; it made it look like we were in the hauling business. A was very impressed, until she looked a little closer.

When we got the reefer, the Boss moved it to the orchard. It looked cool there as well, and made a nice seat for me while doing sheep observations.

In order for it to be transformed into a henhouse, some modifications were in order.
The floor was ripped out, the doors removed. The Boss can see the finished henhouse in his head, even though I can’t quite visualize what he is going to do.

The cool weather has sent this project to the top of the priority list.
Now, it’s sitting in the driveway in a state of complete disrepair and an ever-growing “Lowes list”.

Stay tuned...

Mothers and Daughters

2011-11-11T06:41:00.011-05:00

You would think that the re-introduction of the ewe lambs to the ewe flock would be smooth and calm. Right?

Wrong!

Despite the fact that this is a family group, or perhaps because it IS a family group, there is more than a little dysfunction. Things get just a little testy. Butting and yelling are part of the process of sorting out the hierarchy. This can go on for days.

The Boss came to the rescue, and in an attempt to act as mediator in the tense relations, he took the whole gang to greener pastures. Worked like a charm! It’s really hard to argue with your mouth full.

By afternoon, they were all getting along quite well, enjoying the shade of the pines and grass up to their bellies.
They should be content to graze out here until the snow flies. Then, they will move to the barn lot for lambing season.

My Girl (s)

2011-11-11T06:23:00.016-05:00

An attempt to photograph all the ewe lambs before turning them in with the ewes proved to be an exercise in futility…or character building. Since there are only five, this should have been a breeze. I know could learn some patience…but, really!

There were many more attempts, but I think you get the picture.

However, here are some shots of “my girls”. These ewe lambs were all born this year (2011) and will be bred in 2012 to lamb sometime in early 2013.

There’s Ginny.
Girlfriend.

Jessie.

Pauline.

Jolene.

They are all pretty consistent in size and weight. They seem to have grown out quite nicely. Although they have never been able to learn table manners.

Now, to introduce them to the ewe flock!

Notice I had a little help from our “sheep CAT”. Yes, that IS Boooyyyy that I am carrying. He’s such a great asset here on the hill.

The Making of SUPER Mulch

2011-11-10T06:17:00.007-05:00

Ruminants need grass and/or hay in their diets to provide fiber and roughage. In the summer they forage for their own out in the pastures. During the winter, they are housed in the barn and their hay is delivered to them. While they still go outside, there is not much grass for them to eat, and we restrict their grazing to certain areas in order to enable the summer paddocks a rest during the winter that will promote quick rejuvenation come spring.

When the sheep eat hay, they waste a lot. Occasionally, it would appear that it was not the taste or “mouth feel” that they were looking for and they drop it on the ground. Other times, the lambs use the hayfeeders as playpens and cribs, causing their mothers to look for food elsewhere. There is always at least one ewe that will help herself to the stored hay, pulling tasty tidbits from the hay bales that we thought were out of reach.

By the end of the winter, the waste hay and bedding has reached new heights in the barn.
The Boss refers to the waste hay and bedding as SUPER MULCH as it has little bits of “fertilizer” in it.

Every year, we use lots of the SUPER MULCH in the garden. Not only does it keep down the weeds, it provides some much needed organic matter and fertilizer to the soil. It really doesn’t seem to matter how much we use…the supply seems endless.

That might explain why, in some circles, it is said that barn cleaning “week” runs from January 1 to December 31…

Waylon's Really Bad Day

2011-11-09T19:30:00.011-05:00

It started off like any typical Wednesday.

Surrounded by his harem, Waylon headed out back for what he thought was just a paddock change. Before he knew what hit him, the Boss had him in a man-hug, hauled him up the hill, and then shut the gate on him.

When he looked again, the ewes were gone….just GONE!

He looked toward M’brook. No ewes.

He looked toward the mountains. No ewes.
.
He paced, he cried, he called them again.
They were just gone. There was some real nice grass out here. Food seemed to ease his mind.

Wait a minute….GIRLS? Where’d ya go?

Lest you think we’re just out to make Waylon’s life miserable, let me explain this logistical change.

Waylon is done with his one and only job here on the farm. As a matter of fact, he’s been done for some time. If my observations and calculations are right, the entire lambchop crop of 2012 should arrive sometime between January 15 and February 5, 2012 (give or take a few days). The barn will be a one busy place. I can’t wait!

There’s a LOT of grass down front requiring a lot of hungry animals. The ewe lambs were ready to go in with the ewes, but since we didn’t want to breed them, Waylon needed to go elsewhere.

Once the ram is done with his “job”, he begins to get a little testy, a little ornery, and downright mean to some of the ewes. He will butt them, slamming them into fences, trees and other things. This can’t be good for them. The closer they get to their due date, the more damage he could do, both to them and any unborn offspring.

So, like it or not, sometime in November, the ram (in this case Waylon) heads off to his “bachelor pad-dock”. He’ll stay out there, grazing and growing, until next breeding season. At which time he should be a magnificent example of true “ram-liness”!

Cheer up, Waylon, it’s only another 279 days until next breeding season!

...and So It Goes...

2011-11-07T06:00:00.012-05:00

The freak snow on October 29, 2011 served as a wake-up call that winter is indeed on the way. Preparations must be made and routines changed…’cause cold weather is coming, whether we like it or not. The heavy frost that has become a nightly occurrence only serves to reinforce this notion.

The issues of heat and water are always factors here on the hill. In summertime we have to protect FROM the heat, and wintertime we have to try to retain as much of it as possible. Water must be supplied at all times. A new choreography is imperative during the colder months.

This time of year, the COLD nights (which only get colder as the season progresses toward winter) require that we prepare accordingly. The hoophouses and greenhouses must be closed to conserve what little heat we can for the sometimes frigid overnights. Occasionally, we add a layer of row cover to the plants, as well. Any irrigation used in the daylight hours must be dis-connected and drained. The door to the brooder for the chicks must be closed so they don’t get chilled. This requires at least one walk-about in the late afternoon/early evening. The hens must also be “tucked in” for the night, but they don’t like to squander daylight, so we must wait until dark to close their door.
Then (completely unrelated to the weather) we must close the gate on the sheep. We spend a LOT of time walking!

Despite the cold and dark, I like the “evening close-down”. The sunset is generally beautiful this time of year.
The silhouettes of the bare trees stand in stark relief against the vivid sky. The stars have often begun to show themselves before I get back to the house. I am always in awe at what a beautiful place this is.

Mornings have us contending with frost and ice…and cold fingers. The layers of coats, coveralls, gloves and hats that we so willingly left behind in the spring have all made their way back to their hooks in the laundry room. Many days it is much too cold in the early hours to work outside for long, so we do inside chores before making the morning run to open everything that was closed up the night before. Since it’s not quite cold enough for the stocktank heaters, we find ourselves hauling water in buckets. In some ways, the “opening act” is even more critical than the evening shut-down process.

Once the temperatures have risen above freezing, we can begin to irrigate in the hoophouses and greenhouses. This is a crucial task for the day. No water and warm….hot….temperatures can mean fried plants. Nothing bums me out more than fried seedlings. I hate that! It means we have to start the process all over again….all because I had a “senior moment”!

On a sunny day, even in February, it is possible for temperatures to exceed 100 degrees in the hoophouses. (yes, the UN-heated structures) This allows great growth, but requires a good amount of irrigation as well. So, after making sure all the connections in the irrigation system are not leaking, we can set the timer and go on to completing other tasks.

Before too long, it’s time to dis-connect,

drain and do the evening performance once more.

…and so it goes…

Even In My Dreams

2011-11-04T07:16:00.009-04:00

I spend a lot of time thinking about the Farmers’ Market. I spend even more time getting ready for the Farmers’ Market. Then, we spend time actually doing the Farmers’ Market.

So, it was no real surprise when I started DREAMING about the Market as well. Usually dreams are odd little snippets of no great consequence.

However, not too long ago, I dreamed about something that has ended up changing a part of our marketing strategy. Cool!

Real estate is at a premium at the Market. The spots allocated are a specific size and vendors are supposed to stay within their borders. This means sometimes in order to display all our items, we must get a little creative.

The Boss built a stand that holds a number of baskets, we label the baskets and keep them filled from stock that we have in our Market trailer. Since the bags of lettuce tend to mat down in the bottom of the baskets, he made little false bottoms that make the bags sit up so the customers can see them. This system means that only a few bags make it to display at one time.

When the morning rush starts around nine o’clock, keeping the baskets stocked while waiting on customers gets a little distracting (to say the least). More than once, I have noticed someone look at the empty basket and comment, “oh, they don’t have any more…let’s go.” This was frustrating, as I knew there was more, but I was busy with a customer, and answering questions for another. I also thought it would be more than slightly rude to leave that customer, jump over the table, and re-stock the baskets, and jump back again. Although it would have made for a memorable shopping experience!

One night I had a dream where we had put messages on the bottom of the baskets. I do not remember any other details, but awoke with the intention of buying a Sharpie that day to mark all those baskets.

Right after I put the new bottoms in the baskets, we began to see results. Folks will ask us if they are looking for lettuce and the basket tells them we have more. I made a sign on the reverse that says when we are sold-out as well.

I hadn’t thought about my brilliant dream much lately; it’s been a while since we implemented the change. Last week, B came to visit the Market. As she was looking around, she came upon our little basket signs. “WOW! Why didn’t we think of this one before?” she exclaimed. All those years she worked the Market, and we never thought of that one. “COOL idea! I like it!” I do love it when the “kids” are impressed with the old folks!

Since my dream has proven to have a practical use, maybe I should schedule some naptime into my days around the farm work. You just never know what I’ll dream up next!

When Sheep Fly

2011-11-03T07:01:00.004-04:00

If the expression, “when pigs fly” referred instead to sheep, I would be fully expecting all sorts of dire and unusual things to happen.

I have nothing to document the tale I’m about to tell…except a bit of belly wool stuck on the top of the fencepost.

But, I watched a sheep “fly” over that fencepost…I did...I honestly did!

After a week of rain, followed by two days of wind, all the creatures on the farm were feeling somewhat out of sorts. (Okay, I am speaking for myself and just assuming about everyone else) The changing of the seasons only seems to intensify the feelings.

The gate that divides the feeing area from the rest of the paddock looks innocuous enough. But, when the sheep come down for feeding, all sorts of jostling and fussing ensue. It is not at all unusual for me to find myself eye-to-eye with a sheep as they try to peer over the fence to make sure that the feed is really going in the feeders. I usually just smack the offender in the nose, he/she jumps down and everyone goes on their way.

The other afternoon, I found myself looking a ewe straight in the eye. As I reached out to smack her down, another sheep shoved her from behind… The next thing I knew, she was sailing past my head (grazing my ear in the process). For just a split second, she teetered on the top of the fence. Before I could decide what to do if she was stuck, she hit the ground and ran off to the feeder. She gulped down the food quickly before I let the others in. She acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all.

There is a definite reason I call this ewe “Freak”! She’s definitely in a class by herself.

"Flying" sheep...now, I think I can safely say I have seen everything!

HOT Stuff!

2011-11-02T07:20:00.008-04:00

This year’s pepper crop was remarkable. The plants were beautiful and prolific. With all those peppers, we decided to make chipotles. We have done this in the past with limited success.

Chipotles are simply smoked jalapeño peppers. Apparently, any smoked hot pepper can be called a chipotle, but jalapeños are the most common.

Here’s a quick photo essay of the chipotle making process.

The peppers are picked and cleaned.

Then, we dried them slightly in the greenhouse. When we made these in the past, we didn’t do this, and it took what seemed like forever to get them smoked and dried. If they are not fully dried, they will not last.

Then they went in the smoker. This part smelled SO good!

Once they were completely dried and smoked,
we packaged them for sale. They look pretty in their little cellophane bags.

Now, you may ask, what do I do with them?

Once the peppers are ground to powder, they can be added to anything requiring a little smoky heat. Chili comes to mind. The Boss likes to sprinkle some in fried potatoes. The possibilities are nearly endless.

There you have it…..HOT stuff from the farm.
CHIPOTLES....that's what we mean when we declare....we're smokin'!

Sometimes, Ya Just GOTTA Laugh!

2011-10-31T19:38:00.004-04:00

First thing Monday morning, I head out to town. The first stop is generally the feedstore, followed by the bank, the groceries, the gas station…well, you get the picture.

I really enjoy going to the feedstore. There are some great storytellers that always have a story to share. It’s one of the most interesting stops on my very busy day.

This morning was no exception. The historic weekend snowstorm had caused a power outage which had somehow affected the computer system, there were big deliveries to make, the phone was ringing off the hook…it was BUSY!

“Mrjim” and I exchanged pleasantries as he loaded the feed in the back of the pick-up. I thanked him and headed out to finish my errands. For some reason, every stop seemed to take longer than expected. I didn’t get home until sometime after noon.

The Boss had been busy all morning doing farm work, so we ate lunch before we began unloading the truck. When we began to unload, we noticed what looked like sand in the bed of the truck. “What’s that?” …hmm, looked like a feed bag broke. No big deal, we’ll just use that one first….wait a minute! WHAT is that stuff?

Closer examination revealed that some of the bags were NOT what they were supposed to be. Not only that, but one was broken and spilling its contents all over the back of the truck. While this was a nuisance, and required a trip back to town, it wasn’t a real big deal. But, if I didn’t go, the chicks were going to get hungry real soon.

I hopped back in the truck, drove back to town, amusing myself on the way by counting the number of neighboring farmers who were returning to work after lunching at the Meating Place. (Yes, that IS really the name!) I know I counted at least five! It was a pretty day, the songs on the radio were good ones; I really didn’t mind the trip.

I explained the mix-up at the feedstore office. No problem, just go tell “Mrjim”. “Mrjim” saw me before I saw him, and he was hurrying out to get me the right bags. It was an honest mistake, the storage bays are right next to one another. He apologized profusely; I laughingly told him it really wasn’t a problem. We exchanged pleasantries again, and I headed back out.

The Boss and I are heading to the processor’s in the morning with the last batch of lambs. I figured I’d fill the gas tank so we didn’t have to go to the gas station with lambs in the back of the truck. Unless you have ever gone to a gas station with lambs in the back of a pick-up, you really can’t imagine the weird looks, odd remarks, and general chaos that this can cause. …and that’s just from the human population!

While I was pumping the gas, the feedsacks in the back of the truck shifted around. As I looked at them, I realized one of the ones I had just picked up had a green tag. This may not seem like a big deal, but the feedstore color codes their feed bag labels. While I am not certain of the system, I know that Sheep feed is green, chicken feed is tan, and grains are white. I took a closer look at the green tag…it had a RABBIT on it! Yep, somehow, this time I got rabbit pellets.

Since I was about 2 minutes from the feedstore, I drove back. When I arrived, no one was in sight. I looked around, and as I headed back to the truck…here comes “Mrjim”.

As soon as he saw me, he started shaking his head. “What did I do this time?”

I couldn’t control the laughter. “It’s rabbit pellets!”

HUH?? He jumped up in the back of the truck. “Well, I’ll be danged!” he said. “What in the world is goin’ on? Those guys must be messin’ with me! Your husband is gonna skin me alive when he finds out about all this!”

He got out the forklift, pulled down the whole pallet and we couldn’t find any more rabbit pellets in the stack. Once he satisfied himself that we actually had the right thing on the truck, he said “waaaalll, girl….as much as I like talkin’ to ya…don’t come back too soon!” A shared hearty laugh and I headed out for the old homestead once again.

I must admit, I had a very wicked urge to turn around at the stockyard, run up to the mill and say…”….hey, Mrjim…..” But, that would have been mean.

Instead, I laughed all the way home!

Dedication

2011-10-30T07:06:00.008-04:00

After my very visceral reaction to “I’d get a real job…” last week, this week’s weather forecast had me second-guessing myself. An October snow is odd enough, but an October snow on a Saturday during the Market season could be disastrous.

I know I’ve said this before, but… when you make your living in agriculture, the weather is a big factor. When you make your living in agriculture AND direct-marketing during a five-hour open-air Market, the weather becomes a HUGE factor.

As the Boss and I watched the weather forecast get snowier and snowier as the week progressed, we had a lot of discussions as to how to address the weather situation. Our attendance at the Market is a given, no discussion there. The Boss is the Market Manager, he HAS to attend. We make our living this way; we HAVE to sell the products that we grow here on the hill. However, it’s always a balancing act as to how much to take. If we take too much, we can’t put it back and wait until next week. Cut lettuce and other greens just don’t keep that well. If we take too little, we miss the opportunity to make sales, and obviously that’s not wise. We eventually came up with a plan, worked the plan and then waited for the snow to start.

When we went to bed Friday night, the flakes were coming down heavily. All we could do was wait to see what the morning held. The weather forecasters had us expecting a “big one”. The last time this area saw snow of this magnitude was 1979. The Boss remembers that all too well. He was working for the power company and worked for 40 hours straight. The combination of heavy snow and leaves on the trees made a nightmare for power company employees.

4:15am always comes too early on Saturday, but this particular day I was eager to look out the window to see what had transpired in the night. The floodlight revealed that the snow had indeed fallen in the night, but didn’t seem as deep as anticipated. It was no longer snowing; sleet and freezing rain were falling. We headed out to do chores together. We had decided that it made more sense for me to go into town with the Boss rather than have both vehicles out on what might be treacherous roads.

As we drove into town in the darkness, we laughed a little about how crazy it seemed. We wondered if any customers would venture out in the wintry mess. We rejoiced that the roads were only wet, and the temperature wasn’t quite as cold as predicted.

Our arrival at the Market revealed that other vendors had indeed come out despite the wintry weather. Out of the 26 reserved vendors, only 11 showed up for the Market. No one was too eager to set up in the cold, swirling snow, but everyone got ready for their day of sales. In some ways, it was a better turn out than we expected.

It was still very dark when the first customer came through. There weren’t a lot of customers…then there were none. It looked as if it would be a cold, wet day and sales would be dismal.
I must admit, I wasn’t feeling too optimistic.

Eventually, the residents of Staunton rallied. Folks came out and bought. Some came out and bought a lot. (It’s that time of year when some customers begin to stock up for winter.) The weather cleared a little. Families with young children came to go trick-or-treating at the businesses downtown.

All in all, it turned out to be a profitable day. It seemed like our balancing act worked, there were very few greens left. (I know what our menu will include this week.) We were happy with the total sales for the day.

Then, we can say we were part of history in Staunton. I think I can safely say that everyone hopes it will be another 30 plus years until the next October snowfall!

Keep an Ear out for the Weather

2011-10-28T19:40:00.007-04:00

Some years ago, I crossed paths with “Papaw” while I was over in Draft running errands. There was a prediction for a big winter storm coming, so I asked his opinion. (Papaw is one of the few folks around who can read the signs in the woods and weather with great accuracy.)

“Hmmm”…”well, I saw a bunch of sundogs this week,” he said. Sundogs are those little prism-y things that you sometimes see in the sky. The old timers point out that they indicate precipitation coming. It has something to do with the humidity and ice crystals at the upper levels of the atmosphere. Yes, there is scientific evidence for this one.

“…and the clouds….look at ‘em” as we stood squinting up at the sky, discussing clouds and the possibility of precipitation, I was startled to hear the train coming. Startled because we were more than a mile from the closest crossing and it sounded as if it was coming through the parking lot where we were standing. “Uh oh,” he said, “ya know where that train is…right? When you can hear the train that clear this far away, it means we’re in for snow (or rain) in the next 24 to 48 hours. That’s what my daddy always said. You can tell by the train whistle…just listen!” When I asked why, he admitted he didn’t really know. He thought it had something to do with the atmosphere and the humidity. After we parted ways, I thought over our conversation.

When I found myself shoveling a couple days later, I began to pay attention to my surroundings just a little more. I’ve known for years that you can feel imminent snow fall, you can even smell it…but, I never thought about listening for it!

The train doesn’t run through M’brook. That’s one of the reasons M’brook faded from Augusta County history years ago. However, the train runs on the other side of the mountains and comes through Buffalo Gap and Swoope. Most days we can only hear the whistle in the distance as it warns the public that the train is crossing the roads. When the weather is right, we can hear the low rumble as it makes its way along the base of the mountains on its way to the coalfields of WVA. That’s when you know that we better get out the raincoats and galoshes or the snow shovel.

This morning when I saw the weather page with its prediction of snow and a considerable accumulation, I immediately thought of Papaw’s weather advice.
When I walked outside, the sky LOOKED like it might snow.

The air FELT like it might snow.

It even seemed to SMELL like snow.

I kept listening for the train. Did I hear it?

Late this afternoon, I heard the rumble of the train. Then, and only then did I begin to look for the snowflakes.

Shortly after supper, I looked out the back door…and there they were. Lots and LOTS of snowflakes! This is going to make for an “interesting” (to say the least) Farmers’ Market in the morning.
I just wish the train had let me know how much snow to expect. Next time, maybe I should listen a little more closely.

Hey Y'all...Watch 'is!

2011-10-27T19:00:00.003-04:00

Yes, I realize those are the infamous last words of rednecks everywhere. However, I wanted you to see what happens when I call the sheep.

When I call the sheep, I holler “SHEEP!” and wait….

It doesn’t matter if it’s pitch-black outside or if they’re far away and cannot see me…. Occasionally I get impatient and have to bang the bucket…then they REALLY run!

This time they were down in the lower front paddock, out of sight, and nearly out of earshot. They generally “answer” so I know they are on the way.

But, when I call the lambs it is a different story. Here I yelled, “Kitty, kitties!”

This was not a one-time occurrence; I discovered the phenomenon when one of the barn kitties went missing. They've come running when I've called the Boss or one of the dogs as well.

I’m fairly certain I could call anything and they would still come. It has something to do with the tone…not the words. Years ago we had a flock of lambs that came EVERY time the fire siren went off at the VFD down in M’brook. EVERY TIME!

I hope you will note that this post proves a few things.

Sheep know their shepherd’s voice (or at least tonal quality).

Lambs have absolutely NO vocabulary skills.

My “little camera” shoots some pretty good video. Although, I need some work as a videographer.

I am not exaggerating about the wind around here. The rushing noise is actually wind!

And, last but not least….

It would appear that I have way too much free time.

But, I DO love my job!

Skincare

2011-10-26T07:01:00.017-04:00

Hoophouse #1 is one of the older structures here on the hill. It became part of the landscape in late 1997. We owe a debt of gratitude to Buzz and CJ for helping “skin” it that first time. You guys will always have a special place in our hearts (and that’s just one of the reasons).

We built it to use as winter housing for the 300 Rhode Island Reds that would spend the rest of the year as pastured egg layers.

It was our intention from the start to use part of this structure as a greenhouse, or plant starting area.
We didn’t intend for it to become a year-round growing venture. But, the chickens were only in it for a short period every year, and real estate is at a premium around here. During the summers we tried corn, tomatoes, and melons among other things. We finally found that broccoli planted in March provided the best return. When we got out of the wholesale egg business, the hoophouse could be used for growing year-round. This makes it possible to have salads when there is snow on the ground.

I need to take a minute to explain our “hoophouses”. Known by a number of names: poly tunnels, hoophouses, high tunnels, and even cold-houses/frames, the idea is the same. They have a metal hoop structure to provide stability, are covered with some type of plastic coating, and are un-heated growing spaces. This is completely different than a greenhouse which has some source of constant heat, making it possible to grow warm weather crops year round. While daytime temperatures will get incredibly warm, even during the winter months, freezing temperatures at night are commonplace during the winter. The crops chosen for use in the hoophouse must be able to withstand these temperature fluctuations.

Since the hoophouses are just covered with a thin “skin” of plastic, from time to time this must be repaired or replaced. Generally, we get about 4 or 5 years from a “skin”. This time, we really needed to get more ventilation in the structure. Then, someone (who apparently did not know her own strength) poked a hole in the very top while removing snow. Since the “skin” was compromised, we solved the ventilation issue with a utility knife on the side. This course of action prompted us to “re-skin” a little sooner than normal.

Tuesday was chosen to be “the day”. It is imperative that the “skinning” day be slightly warm, this makes the plastic stretch nicely so it won’t flop around later. It also needs to be a calm day. This is in fact a very relative term, as the air is never still here on the hill. Thankfully, it was just slightly breezy so the Boss and I didn’t go sailing over the rooftops of M’brook. Wind is the number one concern in using hoop structures in our particular location.

Years ago, we did have a “blow-out” during an incredible windstorm. I looked out the upstairs window to see the entire side of the hoophouse waving at me in the wind. YIKES! Amazingly, we incurred very little actual damage that time. Thankfully, we have never had a collapse, even when the snow drifted nearly to the top during the blizzard of ’09.

We spent the afternoon stretching and attaching the plastic to the structure.
With the “wiggle wire” that locks into a special poly-lock channel, this job goes fairly quickly. That would be quickly compared to our old way of rolling the extra plastic over boards and screwing them to the band board at the bottom of the house. That was an all day family event sometimes.

Now that the new “skin” is on, we can roll up both sides on hot days to get cross ventilation going for the lettuce. Combined with the shade cloth, we hope that will make summer time growing even more successful than in the past. However, we won’t be trying any of this until sometime next year.

Next week, we’ll plant the last of the seedlings to take us into the winter harvest season. Then, we will look forward to picking all winter. To be in the hoophouse on a sunny, winter day can be a delight.

It looks like we got that plastic on just in time. The “S” word is in the forecast for the weekend!

...a REAL Job...

2011-10-25T06:45:00.011-04:00

Recently, I was more than a little surprised to hear someone say “if I was you…I’d get a REAL job.” I was at a complete loss for a comeback. I have wondered if other folks, particularly some far-flung family and casual acquaintances, have wondered about what we do …and perhaps why we do it. No one had ever actually said those particular words before, although they had been implied. It was a jarring statement to say the least.

…a REAL job…

Hmmm, is that to say that my current occupation is fake? Or that I really don’t work? Or that somehow other occupations are possibly more important or meaningful than what I do? Is a “real job” one that offers maximum benefits for minimum effort?

…a REAL job…

Guess I should look up the definition. “REAL -adj. - existing or happening as or in fact; actual; true; not merely seeming; authentic; genuine. JOB-n.-anything one has to do; task; chore; duty; a position of employment; work.” Gee, that seems like a pretty close definition.

For the record, here is a bit of background…I chose my current occupation. I DID have other options. No one has forced me into my present lifestyle. …and we didn’t come to farming because we couldn’t do anything else.

If I had followed the path laid out years ago, taken advantage of job opportunities along the way, I am fairly certain I wouldn’t be living in the Valley of the Shenandoah. No, I know if I had taken advantage of a long ago offer and I’d be upper management with a corner office in a high-rise office building in some big city somewhere. I chose not to follow that path…

Yes, I have “education”. Yes, I’ve had “opportunities”. Yes, I have ambition, drive and direction for my life. I just didn’t choose the path that may have been expected of me. And for that, I make absolutely NO apologies. I was looking for the intangibles that a high-powered, high-paying position would not have been able to provide.

I have always wanted to have a family and spend time with them. In addition, I have always had a keen sense of a “draw to the land”. While an exact definition may escape me…I’ve just got farmin’ “in my blood” I reckon. The sense of accomplishment, the pride in a job well-done, and the feeling of self-sufficiency, they all spoke to something deep within me. There is a feeling I get at the end of a day of hard physical farm work that I never got in corporate America…and I value that feeling, I value it deeply!

When we found ourselves in the Valley, we could have done a lot of other things. The Boss could have returned to the power company; I could have returned to the workforce. For a myriad of reasons, we took a chance and a huge leap of faith and started the farm. We CHOSE this life we currently enjoy. It has not been easy, it has not always been lucrative, but it has been rewarding and fulfilling.

It truly aggravates me when folks say, “well, I guess I could always farm” as if it is a last ditch effort. To say ANYONE can farm is truly false. Folks who farm, and farm well, are artisans and true professionals. They are intelligent, caring, hardworking people who often get overlooked and under-appreciated by the rest of society. While this is potentially hurtful, it doesn’t matter to these farmers because they are getting their satisfaction and fulfillment from a job well done.

…a REAL job…

*makes money – yep, we do that! There are those who would be amazed at the amount of money that can be made through a combination of creativity, hard work and determination on a very small plot of land.

*requires effort – oh, boy…

*provides some type of return on time invested – we eat well, sleep well, have learned immensely over the years…to say nothing of the sense of satisfaction we get with a job well done.

*gives back to the community or provides goods and services – we grow food; there are folks who depend on us. The overabundance grants us the opportunity to help the “less fortunate”.

While my current occupation doesn’t pay well and provides no “real” healthcare or retirement…it does do this…

*We set our own hours and are able to enjoy the sunrise or sunset together…stress-free.

*We eat the freshest, most nutritious food available…whenever we choose.

*We work in a beautiful setting, and see the fruits of our labors…literally.

*We get positive feedback…almost instantly.

*We have some awesome daughters! (ain’t nuthin’ like the farmer’s daughters...there's even a song about that one)

*We get to have the best co-worker relationship possible.

*We have a true appreciation of the life and death struggles that make this life possible. It may be that our joys are greater to balance out the fact that our losses are felt more keenly.

*We enjoy good health as a result of hard work and good food. We just don’t count the sore muscles as a bad thing.

*We have opportunity to see miracles every day. Not at day goes by that I don’t get to see and appreciate the handiwork of God. That alone is awesome and worth far more than any paycheck.

So, I may not work for a Fortune 500 company. Maybe that would be a “real job”. However, there is something, if not everything, to be said for job satisfaction. I definitely have that!

This is a hard life: the hours are long, the work strenuous, and the uncertainty at times demands a great deal of faith…but, the rewards are beyond any 401-k or health benefits…far beyond.

Farming…

IS a REAL job!

…and I defy anyone to prove differently.

Rollin', Rollin' Rollin'...

2011-10-20T19:33:00.003-04:00

Last winter I started “Operation Farmhouse Facelift”.

As an empty-nester, I did what many empty-nesters do…I painted. However, my painting got a little out of hand. I intended to paint only the upstairs bath. By the time lambing season started, I had painted both bathrooms, the guestroom (A’s old room), the laundry room, and our bedroom. I left the painting frenzy for the frenzy of the lamb barn, then the garden, the Market, and so on.

I knew the rest of the painting would have to wait until fall. All the newly painted surfaces only served to make painfully obvious the need to soldier on in the project. Then the paint samples at Lowe’s continued to tempt me with their siren’s song. My stack of colors to consider got larger and larger.

Now that things have reached some level of relative “calm”, I’ve got a paintbrush in my hand again. I never realized how obsessive I am until I began painting. The Boss and the girls have pointed out this trait numerous times throughout the years, but I thought they were exaggerating.

I just love painting! Those boring off-white walls are boring no more. But, I just want to keep on painting. Forget meals, chores, the Market, bookwork, the laundry, picking, planting, or seeding…I just wanna paint! I am fairly certain that this gives the Boss yet another reason to be happy we have a very small house.

I am presently painting the living room. This has to be finished prior to the onset of “wood-stove season”, since the woodstove is in the center of the room. The blustery wind today only served to remind me that this is a priority job.

While it really doesn’t affect the working of the farm, it does REALLY affect my outlook on things. The freshly painted, newly organized rooms grant a fresh perspective on things.

So, despite the multitude of other things I could be doing, the farm events I could be chronicling, I’m painting the living room with the music cranking.

Rollin, rollin, rollin, keep that paintbrush rollin’…..oh, wait…that’s not the way those lyrics go!

Just let me get it out of my system. I'll be back to focusing on farm work soon!

Food Safety 101

2011-10-19T06:36:00.007-04:00

Salmonella, Listeriosis, E. Coli…

Every time another food-borne illness makes the news; a few more people get concerned about the safety of their own food sources. In some ways, this works to the small farmer’s advantage. In some ways, it makes direct marketing slightly more intense.

The historically huge egg recall of 2010 left a lot of folks concerned with eggs from the grocery. Egg sales at the Market have been high ever since. Over the years there have been numerous recalls on ground beef, tomatoes, spinach, green onions and lettuce, among other things. The latest scare with listeriosis in melons has people talking about food safety once again.

With each scare, the nation gets slightly closer to very restrictive regulation. I think at some point folks will ask for more regulation to allay their fear of illness and personal harm. As producers, we need to be aware of this and take some type of proactive measures. As small-scale farmers selling directly to the public, we are on the frontlines. We should all be conversant in the current health concerns. We cannot hope by ignoring the “issues” that they will go away. The public wants reassurance, and as producers with hands-on connection to the food source, we are in the prime position to offer this along with some much needed education.

First, we should educate ourselves and our customers. What is food borne illness? Where does it originate? The obvious answer here is food…but, how do the various types of bacteria enter our food? Are there measures that can be taken to assure safety? For the record, YES, there are!

Next, we would take action on this education. Changes could, and should, be made at the farm level to assure a nutritious product that is safe and fresh. Consumers should care for their food products properly once they have made their purchase and prior to consumption.

To assure that we (as producers) were educated, last winter I enrolled in the GAP’s Program offered online by Cornell University. The FAO of the UN is leaning toward some type of audit/certification program to assure food safety. The New Jersey Department of Agriculture petitioned the USDA to design a course of education. Cornell offered the first such program to educate producers. The Good Agricultural Practices course offered the framework for producers to write a plan of action and granted a certificate of achievement at the end. If nothing else, this certificate looks somewhat impressive hanging on the wall in the farm office.

The whole idea behind the GAPs program is to make producers aware of the consequences of their actions, to get them to maintain some level of accountability, and to enforce this among their workers. Many of the areas of concern seemed to be matters of common sense and good hygiene to me. However, farm practices and personal hygiene vary greatly from operation to operation. Maintaining set standards can be difficult when there are numerous locations, employees with diverse backgrounds, and huge amounts of product.

But, the bottom line of food safety can to be summed up like this….CLEAN water, CLEAN hands, CLEAN food. Simple, huh?

The source of water for irrigation, as well as cleaning, should be clean and potable. The workers’ hands should be clean, or gloves worn in every harvesting/processing situation. These two simple steps go a LONG way in providing safe food for the consumer. Although, this is not to say that any concerns are unnecessary.

If anyone should be concerned about food safety from Homestead Hill Farm…I can assure you that our water supply is tested by VDACS (Virginia Department of Agriculture Consumer Services) on a regular basis.

…and we do wash our hands!

**Disclaimer: Consumers should always follow safe food handling procedures at home. Wash your hands and your veggies! Keep food that needs chilling in the refrigerator.**

Doesn't It Just Figure?

2011-10-16T14:33:00.005-04:00

I have been trying to work out the logistics of getting the barn kitties to the vet for their shots since we got the reminder card back in August.

Trying to round up three barn cats, arrange an appointment around our farm schedule and the vet’s schedule is proving to be a task beyond the scope of my ability.

There are several days during the week that I cannot schedule a trip to the veterinarian’s office for there are far too many farm jobs to do. The vet won’t let you just “pop” in for shots anymore; the office is far too busy. I need to call ahead. They are not opened on the weekends. Then there is the cat round up…

That should have been the easy part. Ordinarily, all the barn cats, the dogs and the sheep are milling about the barn in the early morning looking for something to eat. Recently, Booooyyyy has decided that he is some mighty hunter and has been roaming the neighborhood. (All our kitties are “fixed” so procreation is not a worry) Sometimes he’s here…sometimes not. After a few days of freaking out and calling the neighbors, I have adjusted to his new wildly independent behavior.

Last week, I decided it was time to get to the vet’s office. I found and corralled the two girls with little incident. I figured Booooyyyy would show up shortly. After two and a half hours of the girls yowling away in the cat cage, and no sign of Booooyyyy, I let them out. The noise was more than I (or the dogs) could take. He came wandering in a couple of hours later, complaining that HE hadn’t been fed. I decided to bail on the vet trip for the week. In my frustration, I left the cat cage in the barn.

However, it was slightly ironic and majorly annoying when I found Booooyyyy taking his Saturday afternoon nap INSIDE the cat cage.

Sunday afternoon, Sissie decided to take HER nap inside the cat cage.

If I could only convince them ALL to sleep in the cat cage…say, Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday night…I might just get them to the vet this week.

Sad Days

2011-10-15T16:45:00.004-04:00

As soon as I saw her, I knew something was wrong. Before too long, she made her way to our Market table and spoke my name. I embraced her while she composed herself…keeping back the tears that were so close to the surface. She told me the news. I hugged her again, told her to call if she needed anything and watched her walk away. Her fragility struck me anew. This dear, sweet little woman is about to lose her soul-mate of approximately 70 years. Surrounded by his family, he was happy…but, his passing imminent. Oh, it was so sad…so very sad.

These folks aren’t “just customers”, they are friends. They’ve visited us, watched our children grow, hugged us during bad times, and shared life stories along the way. He grew up in the Midwest grain country, and we’d talk farming and tomatoes, he loved sweet onions and barbershop singing. He had a gentle soul that will be missed at the Market.

Earlier this year, another customer lost her long battle with cancer. Each week, I see her husband come to buy flowers for her grave. That is heartbreaking. She was kind and gracious to me when I truly needed someone to care. I miss her as well.

We’ve done the Market for a long time. That means we’ve seen a lot of changes over the years. Some vendors have passed on, as well as customer-friends… and, to this day those folks are missed. Lots of new babies have been born, so the cycle continues. The fabric of the Market is constantly changing. We count many of these folks among our friends so the loss is felt on a very personal level.

In the past couple weeks, a number of folks connected to the Market have lost loved ones. Three vendors have lost a parent. There have been a number of losses among the customer base as well. While death is a natural occurrence, those left behind are struggling to deal with the new reality. That is hard.

Toby Keith wrote this song after losing his dear friend Wayman Tisdale. It seems touchingly appropriate.
As for those who have recently passed on…you WILL be missed! …and to those doing the missing, the adjusting, the mourning, my heart goes out to YOU!

Garden Experiment...FAIL

2011-10-14T06:41:00.012-04:00

Lest anyone think I only note our successes…lest anyone think I only see the positive…lest anyone think EVERYTHING always works just right around here… read the following.

Last year we had a bumper crop of butternut squash. It was great!

We had them for sale (we sold them whole, as well as bags of peeled chunks)
and for all the recipes we could find. A customer-friend shared this grilling idea with us. YUM!

There were so many that some of them ended up moldering away in storage. (ugh)

This year, we decided that we should grow some other types of winter squash. Perhaps, we thought, if we had a number of different kinds, we wouldn’t have any left to molder away at the end of the season. Turns out we were right.

The seeds germinated well. The plants looked great when we planted them in the garden. We followed our usual method of irrigation, planting and mulching in a single day. We took some pride in our job well done.

Then we noticed something odd. A number of the plants died. No problem, I start extras for that situation.

The plants began to grow. Then more plants died. No extra plants now, so we would just have a smaller crop.

More plants died. We checked the irrigation.

More plants died. We checked for bugs and disease.

Long story short…here’s the crop for 2011.

What? Didn’t see a picture? That’s because there is NO crop for 2011. Nope, not a single squash.

Neither of us is quite sure what happened. We had a similar problem when we tried great variety in the past. I have no idea how variety could be the problem, but we will return to what gave us success in the past. Guess the future will see us planting butternut…just butternut…squash.

One constant in farming… “there’s always NEXT year!”

Garden Experiment...a Success Story

2011-10-12T09:08:00.007-04:00

Along about mid-July, The Boss and I looked at one another and said “Green Beans! We need another succession planting of GREEN beans!” Yes, the conversations around here are indeed that odd and random.

We checked the calendar and did the math. Ooo, that would be cutting it close, real close. However, if we caught a break in the weather…we might be able to have late season beans. He decided to “go for it” and seeded in some beans.

When you do succession planting, it is necessary to count ahead on the calendar to see when the crop will mature. Actually, this should be done in every planting situation. That way you have some idea of your harvest window.

Late season planting always carries a risk. If the planting doesn’t have enough time to mature before the frost and cold arrive, time and energy have been wasted.

We took a risk with those beans. But, they grew beautifully. They were loaded with tiny beans and a multitude of blossoms. It looked like they would be ready for Market sales toward the end of September. If we had planted them when the nights were staying warmer, they would have matured earlier.

Then, it happened. When we walked outside to do chores the morning of September 15, there was frost! Beans do NOT like frost. We had not covered the beans the night before because the weather was not predicted to be so cold. Covering the beans, or any crop, with row cover (a spun poly fabric) will protect from cold to some degree. It is a great solution, with a down-side. Row cover does not like wind…and here on the hill, we get a LOT of wind.

Upon further investigation, we found the frost was quite patchy. It seemed to miss the bean patch entirely. Hooray!

Later that week, I began picking. I picked and picked and picked. Wow! Despite the cool nights, copious amounts of rain, and cloudy days, this bean patch has REALLY produced.

I keep telling Market customers that “this is probably the last week for beans….you know the weather…” and then there are still beans to pick. So far, that little bean patch thrown in at the last minute has produced well over one hundred pounds of beans. Just yesterday, we picked more.

Now, that’s a success story!

But, I really DO think this is the last week for beans…

One Potato...Two Potato...

2011-10-11T06:37:00.012-04:00

Potatoes are by far my favorite vegetable. Potatoes are also my favorite crop. The versatility of a potato is unsurpassed. I truly enjoy every aspect of potato growing.

I like to plant them. Although the hilling makes my shoulder hurt terribly, the end result is worth every bit of pain. We buy seed potatoes in the spring, planting half in March or April and the other half in July. That gives us two crops of new potatoes with their delicate skin. It also assures that the potatoes stored for winter remain firm and fresh until spring.

I just love digging them.
When I was a little girl, my dad would just laugh at me for wanting to dig the potatoes. Didn’t I know it was work? It didn’t matter to me; it was like hunting for buried treasure. The only thing I didn’t like was that sound of S-L-I-C-E…as the potato fork went through the potato. That was never the intention. But, then the potato wouldn’t store because of the dirty injury down through its center. Wasted potatoes made me sad.

Now we use a “potato buster” hooked onto the tractor. It works like a plow, gliding beneath the potatoes and turning the soil over so the potatoes just roll out. Way cool! While it IS cool, it doesn’t do ALL the work. We go along and sift the potatoes out of the turned and softened earth, often on our hands and knees.

For those of you who may not know, the only part of the potato plant that is edible is the tuber. The plant, its flowers and any berries it may have contain way too much solanine for human consumption.

In the past, we’ve had good yields on the potato crops. Last year, we had a dismal failure with some of them. This year we have had an AWESOME year.

Today, the Boss and I picked up more than eleven bushels of potatoes from the July planting. This was in addition to the five bushels he had already harvested from that patch. The reefer-cooler is pretty full! …and we’ve already sold a lot.

These are by far the biggest potatoes we’ve grown. The biggest one weighed in at over 2 pounds. It was huge.
I don’t know if it means I am turning into Cliff Clavin (remember the TV show Cheers?) or I am just so very tired, but it really looked like a face to me! The Boss got lots of laughs at my “Mr. Potato Head” the all-natural version.

Sometimes we have entirely TOO MUCH fun! But, you can never have too many potatoes!

...and Sweet 'Tater Pie

2011-10-10T06:32:00.008-04:00

It really doesn’t matter how many cans of Bruce’s Yams are sold this holiday season…

I am here to tell you that those orange things that you find on buffet tables from Thanksgiving to New years are NOT, I repeat NOT…yams.

They are in fact …Sweet Potatoes! Sweet Potatoes, or Ipomoea batatas, are the basis for those holiday casseroles, soufflés and pies that so many of us enjoy.

Since both the sweet potato (ipomoea batata) and the yam (dioscorea) originated in the same area of the world, an error in translation is said to be blamed for the confusion. I am not going to get into a discussion of etymology, so suffice it to say….we’re just talking about sweet potatoes.

In the spring, we get “slips” (little plants)from a plant company in Tennessee. The slips are essential sprouts off the tuber that are allowed to form some roots.This company specializes in all sorts of sweet potatoes. There are red, white and yellow varieties. We particularly like the Georgia Jets. They have a fairly short growing season, produce well, and make some real big tubers. Their deep orange flesh is sweet and creamy.

Since the sweet potato is a tropical plant, heat is a necessity. We cannot plant them until the ground is warm, and all threat of frost is past. After their arrival by mail, the “slips” spend some quality time in the green house. While the “slips” are growing in the greenhouse, we prep the growing area. The Boss puts black plastic over the ground prior to planting. This serves several purposes; it keeps the weeds down, and provides some added warmth for the growing tubers. It also holds in moisture from the irrigation supply.

This year we planted more “slips” than in the past. The hope was to have a bigger crop. Unfortunately, the critter population was enjoying the sweet potatoes long before they were ready to harvest. We’re fairly certain those 10 groundhogs, 6 raccoons and two possums that the Boss “eliminated” out back were enjoying the plants! The tops were eaten off the plants in half of both rows repeatedly. There were probably some rabbits enjoying sweet potato greens, too. This caused our crop to be far less than we had anticipated. However, it was MUCH better than last year’s complete failure, so we’re happy.

When the weather begins to turn cool, the sweet potatoes must be harvested.
They should not be allowed to suffer a frost. The vines must be pulled off, the plastic and irrigation removed, and the potatoes dug from the earth. The sweet potato is a relative of the morning glory, so there are lots of long, trailing vines, although the tubers remain under the main part of the plant. Generally, one pass with the plow uncovers most of the tubers.

After the tubers are dug, they are dusted off and taken to “cure”. Our “curing area” is actually a big piece of cardboard on the floor of the shop with a sheet over the top. The tubers are given about two weeks to cure in which time the starches convert to sugar and the delicious taste develops.

Last week was the first week we were able to offer sweet potatoes for sale at the Market. Somehow, they just seem to symbolize Autumn to many folks. The tasty tubers will show up in a variety of ways, baked, roasted, boiled, glazed, “souped”, stewed, fried, casseroled,

…and as Sweet ‘Tater Pie!

Here's a recipe:

• 1 (1 pound) sweet potato
• 1/2 cup butter, softened
• 1 cup white sugar
• 1/2 cup milk
• 2 eggs
• 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 (9 inch) unbaked pie crust
1. Boil sweet potato whole in skin for 40 to 50 minutes, or until done. Run cold water over the sweet potato, and remove the skin.
2. Break apart sweet potato in a bowl. Add butter, and mix well with mixer. Stir in sugar, milk, eggs, nutmeg, cinnamon and vanilla. Beat on medium speed until mixture is smooth. Pour filling into an unbaked pie crust.
3. Bake at 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) for 55 to 60 minutes, or until knife inserted in center comes out clean. Pie will puff up like a souffle, and then will sink down as it cools.

Rather like pumpkin pie, but lighter and fluffier. YUM!

Hen-fruit

2011-10-08T13:36:00.007-04:00

It always amazes me that the little balls of fluff that arrive in a small box in the mail turn into some of the most productive and profitable creatures on the farm.

The layer chicks arrived Friday morning. While they seemed a little sleepy and bemused upon their placement in the brooder, that quickly changed. Within half an hour, they were cheeping, scratching, pecking, and drinking like they had always lived there. Not bad for two days old!

In a mere 18 to 22 weeks, these little girls will be laying eggs and beginning to pay their way around here. At that point, each pullet will be producing an egg approximately every 26 hours …and they produce without complaint…working for just “chicken feed”.

Eggs are a great source of nutrients and protein. Recently, the USDA announced that the cholesterol levels are lower in eggs than previously thought. They also contain more Vitamin D than reported in the past. This is great news for both farmers and consumers. For further egg information....check this out Incredible Edible Egg | Egg Recipes, Egg Nutrition & Egg Facts

Whether you call them eggs, cackleberries or hen-fruit, they provide great nutrition in a neat little package. The uses of eggs are deliciously myriad. They can be fried, boiled, scrambled, baked, shirred; they make soufflés puff, sauces creamy, and cakes and cookies soft and tasty.

However you choose to enjoy them, do so knowing that the “hen-fruit” from Homestead Hill Farm has been gathered within the seven days prior to your purchase and will last at least one month in your fridge.

A note about farm-fresh eggs: they do NOT peel well. If you are making devilled or pickled eggs and need the eggs to peel smoothly, try letting them sit on the counter for a few days prior to cooking. Yes, unrefrigerated. Yes, they will be fine. However, once you cook them…please refrigerate any leftovers.

A Change is in the Air

2011-10-07T06:37:00.006-04:00

The shift from September to October is more, much more, than a simple turning of a calendar page. The patchy frost we had in mid-September was just a teaser, a wake-up call if you will. There is a chill in the air most mornings; the dew is heavy and quite cold. This week’s very warm temperatures are not a sign of global warming. The real change is coming, no doubt about it. Mid-October will see the cold weather settle in for the season. That is generally when we begin to have frost on a regular basis. The knowledge that winter weather is beginning to bear down on us keeps us motivated to get all those “fall” projects done.

Early October has us planting garlic. Over the winter, the garlic will develop a great root system in its underground home, growing unobtrusively until spring time. Then it will make rapid growth and be ready for harvest in June or July.

The barn gets cleaned out in October as well. All the waste hay and bedding becomes mulch for the garden. When the sheep start coming into the barn for the winter, they will start the cycle of “super mulch” once more.

All but the hardiest of plants are finished in the garden. Much of the garden is bush hogged to get it looking tidy. The old plants will be pulled out and the irrigation system winterized in anticipation of freezing cold weather.

The hoophouses are being filled with winter-hardy greens and lettuces. It is our hope to be able to offer these for sale throughout the course of the winter, as we have done for the past three years.

The last of the lambs will head out to the processor during October and early November. This will stock the freezers with meat until the lambchop crop of 2012 is ready.

As for poultry…The last broiler processing of 2011 is on the “to-do” list this month as well. The layer chicks for next season are scheduled to arrive today.

There are lots of other jobs that need doing prior to the onset of cold weather. The chimney needs cleaning, the firewood should be stacked, the greenhouses cleaned out, and hoophouse #1 needs a “new skin”. The small clean-up jobs and multitude of winterizing tasks never even make the list, although they must be done as well. Then, there’s the Boss’ new chicken house project….

That chill in the air and the tinge of color on the mountains can only mean one thing…

We better get busy!

After the Market

2011-10-02T15:44:00.008-04:00

Our Market day starts with the sound of the alarm clock at 4:15….yes, A.M.! It’s still dark when the Boss arrives downtown to set up for sales. He’s the Market Manager as well, so he has a lot of work to do.

The animals are fed and watered by the light of the flashlight before I head into town as well. Making sales, keeping product stocked and answering questions coherently for the entire morning makes for a long day sometimes.

When NOON arrives and it’s time to close down the Market for the day, we’re ready. We’re very ready to get home, unpack and EAT LUNCH!

By the looks of it…

…we are not the only inhabitants of the farm thinking of food! The early morning feeding throws the animals’ internal clocks off as well. They spend the afternoon complaining…and waiting for afternoon choretime to arrive.

A Multitude of Mushrooms

2011-09-26T06:42:00.010-04:00

As I returned home the other day, I glanced up the hill toward the house as I turned in the lane. I have made it a habit to check things out as I approach the old homestead….never know what odd and/or random thing may be happening.

Wait! What is that under the pine trees?

I headed out to check it out. Of course, since the sheep are in that paddock, they went along to “help”. That always keeps things interesting.

The pine trees grow in several large groups out front. In the history of this piece of land, at one point someone wanted to start a Christmas tree farm. The next owner thought this was a completely stupid idea, and attempted to bush hog everything. The land is hilly and lumpy and a fair number of trees escaped the bush hog. That was about 20 years ago, so the trees are quite large now.

As I rounded the first group of trees, I could finally identify the “stuff” I had seen from the lane.

It was MUSHROOMS! Bunches and bunches (and bunches!) of mushrooms.

Mushrooms kinda freak me out. I immediately assume that they’re all highly poisonous. (I think this is baggage from reading Babar the elephant as a small child.) There were all kinds of mushrooms: yellow, red, white, puffballs, some slimy mushrooms and some that defied description. Yikes!

The sheep were in this paddock. Had they eaten the mushrooms? Would the mushrooms hurt them? There were lots of damaged mushrooms. I couldn’t tell if they had been eaten, or just walked on. I know nothing about mushroom identification. Sure wish “papaw” hadn’t sworn off the “ ‘puter”! I could have emailed him some pics and he could have identified them. As that wasn’t an option, I put the helpful sheep in another paddock for safe measure, and did some internet research.

My internet research revealed that I don’t have anything to worry about. It doesn’t appear that they are highly toxic. And, as the Boss pointed out, the sheep probably won’t eat them anyway with all the grass available. Although, I am fairly certain that a couple of the "characters" had to at least taste one.

It would appear that weather conditions were just perfect for great mushroom growth for the first time in our history with this piece of property. It is just part of the growth habit of this particular species to grow around coniferous trees.

Well, that’s one for the books! We’re supposed to get some real cold weather later this week, so that will spell the end for the mushrooms.

I do wonder….what’s next?