A Ram's Destiny

Today was an important day here on the farm.

Today we began working on the lambchop crop of 2012.
More specifically, WAYLON began working on the lambchop crop of 2012.

The ewes were de-wormed and checked for condition.
They all look great. Waylon (and his little paddock buddy) were also de-wormed. Waylon was fitted with his breeding harness and we put them all in the same paddock. It was less than exciting, to say the least. Sheep on fresh, green grass are far more interested in food than in “romance” any day! Once the newness of the situation wore off, instinct took over. We were encouraged to see that Waylon was indeed quite intent on his “job”.

A word of explanation here about the breeding harness…

When turning the ram in with the ewes, we put a harness on him that holds a crayon marker over his brisket. This will mark the back of each ewe he mounts in the mating process. The marker enables us to keep track of a number of things. We can predict the date of any potential lambs, and it enables us to check ewe and ram fertility.

If the ewe is marked, I note the date on the calendar. 150 days into the future, we should be seeing lambs…or at least getting quite close. Actual gestation can range from 145 to 153 days. This makes our job on those cold winter nights much easier.

The marker is changed every 2 weeks, using a different color. Since a ewe cycles approximately every 17 days, this will give us a good idea if it did not “take” the first time. When a ewe has marks from different dates, this indicates her fertility is questionable (or possibly the weather was too hot) We generally go three cycles and then pull the ram out of the pen. That way lambing season is a somewhat controlled event.

If for some reason, the ram is not very fertile, we will end up with a bunch of “techni-color” ewes. This happened once….definitely NOT one of our finer moments! But…”we learned a LOT on that one…!”

So far, one marked ewe….




…and one happy ram!

A Trip to the Stockyard

Yesterday we took a load of lambs to the stockyard. (more on that one some other time) Staunton Union Stockyards is one of those places that time forgot.

You can almost feel the history in the building.

It’s as if you can hear the sales calls from days gone by as you wander down the labyrinth of fences and gates to the inner workings of the yard. No high-tech computers here, they still use the same old scale and a black ink pen that they were using back in 1936 when records show that they were incorporated.
The men who run the stockyard are still referred to as “the boys”, despite the fact that they are old enough to be my father.

I like going to the stockyard. I like that feeling of connectivity with the other farmers in the area. Although, in some ways, I feel like an interloper when I walk in…this is definitely a man’s world.

Yesterday’s trip was somewhat different, as one of “the boys” talked to me about sheep and rain and all the things you talk over in rural America.

Once a year, this place gets transformed. Every May, the 4H and FFA Market Animal Show and Sale takes over for 2 days. The kids from the surrounding area that raise steers, hogs and lambs come to compete and sell their animals. It is an amazing event. While I am one of the least patriotic folks around, it is a stirring sight to see that big American flag draped across the entry and watch as cowboy hats and ball caps are doffed as the pledge is said and the opening prayer prayed. After the big sale, it is business as usual for the stockyard.

Every Tuesday and Friday, without fail, there is a sale at the yard. Friday is the bigger sale, with cattle coming through and being shipped out to lots in the west.

Yes, there is a sense of history here. This unassuming place provides a necessary link in the food chain, a sense of history, and a nice paycheck for those who utilize it.

Okra....Must be a Southern Thing?

One of the livelier suppertime discussions when the girls were young and still living at home involved OKRA.

I kid you not! If you get two Virginia-born girls, one who likes okra and one who does NOT, into a debate on the vegetable’s finer points, I can assure you that the word YANKEE will fly fast and furious. The argument was never fully settled…and to this day, one of them still does NOT like okra (much)….and the "Y" word is still mentioned.

Okra is one of those things you either love or you hate. There are few that have tried it that feel truly ambivalent about it. Since it is a member of the mallow family, there is a mucilaginous quality of which to be aware. If the big word threw you….it means it might be slimy!

Brought to this country from Africa years and years ago, okra thrives in the heat and humidity that is summer in the south. Since the southern climate is so conducive to its growth, okra shows up in a variety of forms. Fried, boiled and gumbo are just some of the ways to prepare okra. It’s used in tropical climates around the world in everything from stir-fry to pickles; the leaves and seeds are even used in some cuisines.

As with any other vegetable, there is a peak point at which to harvest. If you want to use the okra for boiling, it must be tiny…no more than two inches long. Fried okra and some other applications allow for larger fruits. If it’s larger than your hand, give it to the chickens! (or add them to the compost pile)



When I was twelve, my grandfather lived with us for a summer while recovering from a heart attack. He had grown up on the farm, and loved fresh food fixed home-style. The salt restrictive diet that he had to follow wore on him after a while and he demanded okra…with salt. He only wanted the very tiny okra. He wanted them boiled slightly, and he wanted a touch of salt. His okra was cooked and salted and he ate it. He was happy. He insisted that we try some. EWWWW! Brother said it looked like slimy, little green caterpillars and bailed on eating anymore vegetables than absolutely necessary. I was not going to be bothered by that; I tried them. Green caterpillars or not, they were good! To this day, the memory of sharing that meal with Pop brings a smile.

Now, we generally eat them fried. If they are rolled in flour, an egg wash, followed by cornmeal and fried until golden brown, they are truly delicious. The breading eliminates any slime factor.


Every summer, I chop some and freeze them. It brings back a little of summer when we can have okra on a cold and snowy day.


It may be true that you MUST be from the South to truly appreciate OKRA. Here is a case in point; we had a chef do a cooking demonstration at the Saturday Market once years ago. This import from New Jersey did nothing to enhance his image with vendors or our Southern shoppers by disdaining the okra as “dog snot”. Needless to say, he didn’t do any more cooking demos!

My advice regarding okra would be…find a Southern cook willing to either share her (his) recipe ...or better yet…actually do the cookin’ for ya…and TRY okra! Then you can make an informed decision. I’m guessing you’ll come down on the “YUM” side regardless of your geographic background.

Sometimes It's the Little Things

Occasionally, I have the odd flash of brilliance that surprises even me.

Perhaps the biggest concern of summertime is keeping the animals supplied with fresh, clean drinking water. Water is always an issue, but combined with the heat of summer, the lack of it can prove deadly.

We use black plastic stock tanks for the sheep. These are fairly small in order to keep them manageable. Sheep will drink far less than cows, so huge stock tanks out in the field are both unwieldy and impractical.

During the hot days of summer, the tanks get gross, really gross. Between the sheep’s propensity for “back-washing” as they drink and the high temperatures, cleaning the tanks becomes a daily job. The algae and other stuff not only make the water undesirable for drinking, it can also affect the animals’ overall health.

Back in our “cow” days, we had one BIG tank, close to the barn. Hence, we kept a scrubber on a nail by the barn door, and used it as necessary. The big tank only needed cleaning on a weekly (at most) basis.

With the arrival of the sheep, all that changed. In mid-summer, we have at least three groups of sheep spread around the farm. There is a water tank with each group. I kept forgetting to carry the scrubber out back, or out front, or whatever. That would demand a trip back to the barn. While it’s not a long way, when it’s really hot I don’t enjoy trudging back and forth to clean the tanks.


One day as I was getting the scrubber off the nail, I noticed all the little carabineer hooks hanging on another nail. We use these for all sorts of things. They make great gate hooks, bucket holders, and used with wire panels they allow us to create pens in minutes. Their bright colors make them easy to spot, and they are relatively inexpensive. They are one of the things I couldn’t get along without around here.

Then it hit me! A whole new concept in water tank management!


If I bought a bunch of scrubbers, put each on a carabineer, and hung it on the fence in each sheep pen….I’d never have to make another trudging trip to the barn!

Ah, success! …and clean stock tanks! Happy lambs…


As for that “flash of brilliance”…uh, not so much...

Heirloom Tomatoes

Someone asked me to explain what an heirloom tomato is….

I guess it does sound like we’re selling very old tomatoes or some type of fruit you might hand down through the family. Maybe the term does warrant a little clarification.

An “heirloom tomato” is an open-pollinated variety that will fruit true to type if you save the seeds for planting. This is unlike a hybrid that may or may not be true to type if you save the seeds. There is a great deal about breeding for seed that I cannot explain here. Rather than muddy the waters, I’ll just try to explain what it means when you see HEIRLOOM TOMATOES advertised at the Market, in a seed catalog, or possibly on the menu at some classy restaurant.


Since the seeds can be saved from the heirloom tomatoes, the varieties have been around for a LONG, LONG time. Some claim to date back to the War Between the States and possibly earlier. There is a great deal of genetic diversity, so you can find all sorts of colors: white, red, black, orange, yellow and striped. They have great names, too…like “Green Pineapple”, “Mortgage Lifter” ,“Mr. Stripey”, and “Cherokee Chocolate”.
Odd shapes and irregular ripening are also part of the package. Just reading about the various types and colors of tomatoes on a cold winter day can provide a source of great deal of reading pleasure. Check out www.tomatogrowers.com for more information.


The hybrid tomatoes (the type you see in the store) are bred for constant supply, quick growth, and the ability to be shipped long distances. I won’t even attempt to explain what happens to a tomato prior to your grocery store purchase. Those tomatoes are almost a different species than what you can grow at home or buy at the Market. Home gardeners grow hybrids because they are earlier, less susceptible to disease and they are pretty. Most hybrid tomatoes are pretty red globes, rather than the odd and unusual shapes of the old-time tomatoes.

There is a place in this world for the hybrid tomato. Without it, sandwiches across America would just have lettuce and mayonnaise. Tacos and salads would be rather boring, there wouldn’t be any salsa …and those craving tomatoes in January would have to go hungry.


But, once you have experienced an heirloom, you may never go back. The memory of the complex fruity taste, the sheer deliciousness of it will make it possible to survive for the 9 or 10 months of the year that we are “tomato-less” in Virginia. You may find that you have become a “tomato bigot”. Nothing can compare…nothing.

There is a quality to heirloom tomatoes that almost defies description. I love to take a big bite out of one right off the vine, the delicious juice dripping down my fingers creating a sweet, sticky mess.
A BLT becomes a gourmet delight. My artistic side is gratified when arranging a plate of sliced tomatoes for lunch or supper. The tomato garden is filled with beautiful glowing jewels in the early morning light.


The down-side of heirloom tomatoes is in the shortness of the season. While the seeds are started in March, it is often August before the tomato harvest begins in earnest. The first frost (which can be in mid-September) puts an end to the delicious eating. The season seems far too short.

However, by that point, we have canned, frozen and dried a good amount.
We may not enjoy the wonders of “fresh-picked”, but there will be some type of tomatoes for off-season consumption.

You haven’t tried an heirloom tomato? Oh…you need to! Get one at the Market this weekend. Find out the story behind the name, or ask about the nuances of taste.
You will be amazed! I promise.

They Say Good Help is Hard to Find

Farm work is laborious, sometimes monotonous, and always done in less than ideal conditions. It isn’t any wonder that is hard to find folks willing to labor under such conditions for relatively little compensation.

Since our operation is quite small, and Tom and I have always worked well together as a team, the labor issues don’t affect us. Without employees, interns or apprentices, we are free to over-work, under-work and harass each other with no fear of repercussions. We manage to get a good amount of work done...and have a good time, too. (most days)

If anything, we find we get too much unsolicitied help from unlikely sources.







The helping paw or hoof or claw is offered us at the most unexpected moments.



If the old adage “laughter is the best medicine” has any validity…


...the shenanigans and animal antics around the farm mean we may even have the new health care initiative deal under control, too!

A Farm Calamity

Just when things were going so well…

We picked up the latest batch of lamb chops on Monday….and boy, oh boy, are they beautiful! Tuesday morning we got our batch of broilers processed in record time. Then it happened…

When Tom went to deposit the waste from processing in the compost pile down front, the tractor acted a little weird. He heard a distinct “CLUNK” from one front wheel. Hmm, not good. Then, the front wheel locked up. DEFINITELY not good.

Now, on a farm a tractor is like a member of the family. Tom uses ours almost daily. In the 22 years we have had it, Tom has only had to perform the most routine of maintenance. There have been a few rough starts, a replaced hose or two, and new tires, but it has never completely failed us.
It has plowed snow, mowed grass, pulled the trailer, moved the chicken house, bush hogged, and hauled untold loads of all kinds of stuff on a routine basis. Tom uses it for plowing, tilling, digging potatoes, scraping the driveway. The list is nearly endless.

A phone call was made to the shop. “Hmm, doesn’t sound good”. The mechanic told Tom that it sounded like a “planetary gear”. Somehow, hearing that the problem had a name made us (me) know that would be expensive. Calling the repair shop is akin to humans visiting a health specialist. However, the estimate given was actually not quite as bad as I had feared.

Tom loaded up the tractor and hauled it to the repair shop in Fishersville. They told him they’re running a week behind, and they “hope” to get to it soon. Oh, argh! That means that the tilling, hauling, loading, potato digging will have to be done some other way for a while. (perhaps a long while)

I honestly felt like we had left an elderly family member to have some unknown surgery. Poor old tractor! The tractor was the first thing we re-located when we moved here years ago.
Without it, Tom couldn’t have built the barn, dug fencepost holes or tilled all our gardens. It has been a faithful ally in all the various projects around here.

Someone (you know who you are) once referred to it as “Tom’s cute little tractor”. While it’s not the biggest, or the baddest tractor, it suits our needs. It is also reliable, paid for, and GREEN! (for the un-initiated…there is much discussion in the ag world concerning the color of one’s tractor. The color identifies the brand, and loyalties are fierce.) Today’s issue leaves us contemplating the day when the tractor will eventually have to be replaced. That is rather a daunting thought, as prices have increased dramatically since our original purchase in 1989.

So, we wait….and we (I) worry. …and we figure out how to get along without one of the things we truly rely on around here. My only hope is that the repair bill won’t grow.

…but maybe the tractor will!


While we could never use this thing….it sure looks cool!