Something To Look Forward To

Lately it has been hard to find the time to write. Whatever this illness is, it has sunk its teeth into me and saps my energy far too quickly.  Today, I’m biting back (or at least biting out a small section of time to write.)

The farm has been chugging along fairly quietly for the last several weeks.  Ms. Gerie, our mini-nubian is down to once a day milkings, and though a little bit confused as to why no one is messing with her teats while she’s in the stand she’s cool with it.  We lost three more chickens, with no sign of the bodies which makes me think the local coyote population smelled the aroma of dead chicken after the dog attack and decided KFC South was open for business. No losses in the last few days though, so that’s a step in the right direction. 

We are excited though about the new chicks arriving next week! I can’t wait to post photos of fuzzy little chicks hopping all around with the glee of absolute innocence.  It will not take long before the little Amerecauna’s (for that’s what we got – 15 pullet chicks and 1 rooster chick that will lay pretty blue and green eggs) have feathers and are ready to join the rest of the flock.  That should be early spring when they are ready, and perfect timing! 

Despite the devastation of the dog attack, there is still something good to look forward to!

Dogs vs Coyotes

Warning: Not for the weak of stomach.  Some photos may be too graphic for some.

Saturday morning I went out to feed and milk, and upon opening the back door I knew something was horribly wrong.  I could see feathers everywhere -

By the duck pen

By the big coop

In the trough

Then I saw the chunky bits in the barn yard and the harsh reality really started to sink in. At this point I wasn't sure if it was a coyote that was really hungry and couldn't wait to leave the area before eating or something far worse.  Dogs.

Parts... oh my goodness. Then I made my way into the barn.  Dogs. 

Because coyotes will eat their kills, not leave dead bodies all over the place to rot. 

They got every single one of our brahmas, and no few black giants and wyandottes. 

The feathers were everywhere... 

And more bodies were scattered over the landscape.

In all there were a dozen bodies we could identify, and that leaves 5 that we couldn't even find.  We did find a heart, but I'll spare you that image. 

Let me start with saying again how much we love our little farm, and how we are deeply vested in every animal we have including our chickens.  Also, the main job of the donkeys is to protect the goats.  When danger appears, these are all still flight or fight animals.  The goats all cluster round the donkeys and they move away from danger. [Flight] If danger gets close to them, one donkey stays with the goats and the other acts as a proactive guardian, kicking, biting and stomping anything that gets too close. [Fight]  It’s a pretty impressive sight, really.  Unfortunately, if they are all afield and trouble comes to the barn that means that the chickens are pretty much defenseless because the goats and donkeys are already “safe.” 

Now on to the predators:  Coyotes tend to take what they need, and as a rule will not decimate a flock.  They are natural predators and they hunt to eat, taking what they need.  Don’t get me wrong – they may come back because that barn or coop full of chickens just smells like a coyote drive through to them.  But they do not kill for fun, and they will not leave dead birds behind. 

Domesticated dogs on the other hand are generally well fed and when they are either allowed out to roam, or escape to roam, prove to be a far greater threat.  Dogs are still hunters by nature, but are playful by nurture.  To dogs, there is little that is more fun to hunt than chickens.  They don’t generally eat what they kill though – they shake the chickens until their “toy” breaks (usually with a broken neck) then drop it and go on to another “toy” in the form of a live chicken.  Dogs will kill an entire flock for their own amusement.  Sure some may be dismembered, but mostly they will just kill them and leave them behind. 

I have no idea who owns the dogs responsible, and that means no way to ask for replacement cost of our flock. 

In the meantime we have moved and fortified our hens roosting area.  We will replenish our flock, but it takes time and money.  We are looking at no less than 6 months before we have a full flock again.

Even though your sweet pet may not bite humans, and may be sweet as pie around you, left to their own devices they can cause so much damage to small farmers. 

Even as sweet and dear as our Abigail is, never nipping at any of our flock that accidentally ended up in the yard, she would still hunt the chickens belonging to someone else if she had the opportunity. 

Fence your dogs, and lock your chicken coops at night. 

The Milk Maids Hands

The milk maid’s hands were always the softest hands, because of the alpha hydroxy acids present in the goat milk that inevitably got on their hands during milking.  Unfortunately, this milk maid goes through a period of serious lizard-skin each autumn as cooler weather comes on, despite the daily use of my highly nourishing goat milk soap.

This weekend, inspiration came in a desperate need for some lotion while we were out and doing things away from the house, when I noticed the first stages of my annual reptilian autumnal state.  Luckily, my husband had a tube of hand lotion still in his car that I had left there in the springtime. 

Make no mistake, it’s wonderful stuff but I glanced at the price tag on the back and chided myself for ever paying that much for any sort of hand lotion.  I can make that, just like I can do soap, right?  Of course! 

But stabilizing this so it won’t go sour (or develop lots of nasty bacteria and mold) and spoil the lotion is a very big deal.  I knew it could be done but was lost on the how. 

So armed with determination and a lot of resources, I have done some homework.  Not only does it look like I will be able to make fabulous lotion, but the lotion will be far more natural than anything I can buy.  And with a minor consideration toward preservation, I can and will make goat milk lotion that is shelf stable.  This is delightfully exciting to me, and now I’m off to select my oils!

Morning Musings

Yesterday morning as I fed the dogs, and sat sipping a cup of coffee while monitoring them to make sure Mac didn’t get pushed off of his meal by the others, I found myself musing about why I do what I do, and why do I write about it. 

A discussion with my eldest daughter, now a college student, about her ethics class brought some of it into focus.  It’s something I’ve known, but hadn’t put into words before that moment.  We were driving home from campus one day and found ourselves behind a vehicle that sported a bumper sticker stating that happiness is a journey.  I quietly snickered to myself, because I find that happiness isn’t really the journey but the place where I feel most content and joyful in life.  My daughter however was quite more vocal about her opinion.  After a good 3-5 minute rant, she summed it up that the journey isn’t happiness, it’s the end result and culminates in a place.

I had a mental flash of sitting in the barn milking a goat, and breathing the sweet scent of hay and animals; another of carrying buckets of warm honeyed water out to the animals, during a rare deep freeze in the winter; another of sitting on the deck in the sunshine watching the dogs play, and feeling the breeze dry the sweat on my back, a big glass of iced tea in my hand; another of cooking dinner and laughing with my family while fun music played loudly and we danced around while preparing a meal.  My farm is my place of happiness, because there I’m surrounded by family and animals and good honest work without office politics where there is a measurable definition of success: the health and growth of my loved ones, food, production of soap, the mowing of the lawn and the construction of useful items. 

My writing is certainly not anything special, but I find myself compelled to record the daily events that are the development of our little farm.  More than that, happiness is contagious and don’t we all have a little compulsion to share our joy with others?  Sometimes the news isn’t joyful in itself, but it is part of the bigger picture that is our farm.  It is real life in a more honest and basic brilliance. Living life closer to home doesn’t mean giving up pleasures – it means having more pleasure in your life where it counts most.  

A New Soap Scent

So of course we are now playing with all sorts of stuff with the soap, and we have a new scent.  It's "Gone Campin'" and is redolent with the aroma of campfire and leather. 

Hmm...  Maybe we should just call it "Real Men"?

It Has Arrived!

Autumn has arrived with a vengeance! 

Yes, it really was that chilly this morning requiring the heavy coat! 

And this is Texas in October, for goodness sake!

 

 32 Degrees!  I object! We shouldn't be seeing this for another few weeks at least!!!

Tuck in, ladies! You need that extra fuel to stay warm on nights like that.  (I think the donkeys hair grew in extra thick overnight!)

And despite the chill, I saw these lovely little flowers on the way back from the barn.  That added a nice little sunshine to my morning!

 

 

Recovering Ramblings

Fall has arrived with a vengence and the vacation I had so longed for, which launched with my birthday, was absorpbed with my having strep-throat.  The last thing you want to do when you feel that bad is ... well... anything.  Poor hubby took on the lions share of everything for the last several days, and I didn't want to breathe it hurt so much.   

We had a few adventures during the week, despite the challenge of illness.  Penelope, the now year and a half old donkey, broke down part of the fence between the pasture and the back yard and let herself and Chester in for back yard grazings.  We ran them out and patched up the fence, and are more than ever looking forward to putting in a gate over there. 

One day, while still terribly sick, Jackson (my oldest daughters little dog) managed to find a chicken waterer and get his entire head stuck in it, and hid under the deck.  I have no idea how long he was trapped, but upon discovering this I donned pants, boots, long sleeves and a leash and crawled under the deck to retrieve him.   He had been trapped long enough that he was saturated with slobber, and the waterer had to be essentially unscrewed from his head.  Poor Jackson panted for what seemed like a very long time after his release, and drank a little water before collapsing with Abby and his sister Cami for a two hour nap.  (Fine by me - I curled up in the recliner and slept too.)  He seems ok now, though he does want to stay inside a bit more than before. 

Now, autumn has hit quite fast and that means the weather has been perfect for all sorts of out door projects - which we need to accomplish before winter truly arrives.  Now that I'm on the road to recovery, though not fully back to myself, I'm already trying to figure out how to fit in all the things I didn't get done over the "vacation."

For now, one step at a time. The trough is clean, and the storage bench has been painted with primer.  Next - well, whatever small thing we can accomplish.  I'll take that :)