Sometimes Silence IS Golden...

Every three weeks or so, we do a complete muck-out of all of the cow stalls and fill the girl’s “bedrooms” back up with fresh straw. Think of it as cleaning out the cat box on a GRAND scale. Even though we do daily maintenance and clean-up of manure inside their stalls, this time of year the groundwater and mud get carried in to the barn as the cows walk in and out, eventually churning the straw in to a muddy,but (on the bright-side) highly compostable mess. This past weekend marked time to do a barn cleanout, and the day thankfully was sunny even if it wasn’t all that warm.

Despite the back breaking labor of manually moving thousands of pounds of muddy straw and manure, I actually enjoy the days when we work outside for several hours with the animals. They seem to enjoy our company, too, and they are affectionate and interested in everything we are doing.

Which brings me to the dancing turkeys – because it’s that time of year! I caught this little fellow doing his self-conscious mating dance in the center of the barn. I tried to figure out who he was performing for, and then ultimately realized that this was entirely for our benefit. As a sidenote, this turkey is aptly named “Mute,” because he was born with a defective voicebox and has always been completely incapable of making a sound. The hens seem partial to his near-silent gobbles and calls – I guess ultimately proving that sometimes, silence IS golden.

Matt's work schedule was a little lighter this past weekend, and as usual, he volunteered to make butter on Sunday to free up my time to make some felt for some projects I've sketched out over the past couple of weeks. I used churro wool that I got from Ovie Ranch when we picked up our churro lambs last Summer to make felt this time, and it has an interesting, long-fibered texture that I think will be fun to play around with. It also has a lot of natural variegation, which made for a more interesting wool color without dying.

Chow Time...

When I was out doing chores and feeding this morning, I realized that somedays my love and attention is far less important to my feathered and furry children than the food I provide...

Goober, would you like a little cuddle?

No thanks, Mom. I'm eating.

The Problem with Raising Ducks in the House...

We had never really considered owning ducks before we rescued Herbie the Duck. He seems awfully lonely since he's the only species we only have ONE of, which probably explains why he believes he is a cow. The poor thing eats with the cows, sleeps with the cows, and herds the girls by biting at their ankles if he thinks they need to be somewhere other than where they want to be (which goes over amazingly well with irritated, uncomfortable pregnant cows, just for your future reference).

Last summer, we decided we needed to get Herbie some same-species friends. The ducklings arrived in early December from Metzer Farms (who I would wholeheartedly recommend, by the way) and it was way too cold to consider raising them outside.

We ordered 25 ducklings, planning that we'd probably lose at least half of the little ducks to mortality, either in shipping or during the first hard month of life. Fortunately, we haven't lost anyone, and the ducks are still growing like weeds. Unfortunately, we now have twice as many ducks as we'd planned. They are probably big enough to live outside now, truthfully, but they are just so delightful that we'd miss them if we moved them now.

They are in that ugly teenage phase that all waterfowl and poultry go through where their downy baby feathers are falling out but haven't yet been replaced by their adult feathers. They are just learning how to quack instead of chirp. They always look so shocked when mid-chirp, a huge quack comes out instead...

We know they can't live in the basement forever, but we're happy for now to enjoy hand-raising our little flock of "too many" ducks inside the house.

Which leads me to the question - what's the strangest animal you've ever raised in your house? (...you know, teenage boys excluded...)

In other news, the pair of full-beaded, custom adult moccasins I've been working on are coming along nicely. I'm about 12 hours in and only about one-fifth complete, but I thought I'd share a sneak peek all the same.

The Pied Piper...

Prepping to milk in the winter feels a lot like getting ready for a space walk. Insulated pants, boots, a jacket, a coat, a scarf, a hat, gloves to wear and spares in your pocket in case you get wet…all that’s missing is the space helmet. I was like the pied piper this morning, with a little group of turkeys and Herbie the Duck following me around hoping for treats while I was feeding the cows and sheep in my space suit...

Yesterday after work, I finished up the buttermilk cheese I’d started on Sunday night. It turned out dry and crumbly – similar in texture to feta but with less flavor. I was cautious in souring, so the cheese is a little bland but will taste good mixed with herbs or on top of some greens. The next time, I’ll try souring it a bit longer to see if it gives the cheese a sharper flavor. No matter how long I make cheese, there is still that strange Western part of me that has a hard time leaving milk out on the counter for days to culture or sour. When you grow up in the city, you’re taught not to spoil food which doesn’t always work in homesteading food preservation – catching wild yeast, making preserved dairy foods, fermenting wine…all seem counter-intuitive to the ways we’re taught to handle food in the US.

It’s a busy week here...we are expecting a shipment of bull semen this week which will need to be handled immediately and put in to cryo-storage, and we need to have the vet out to vaccinate our full-size calves. We’re in the process of finishing the construction of a stantion to use for doctoring the cows. Now that we are dealing with 7 cows, instead of just 1 or 2, they are all in different stages when it comes to their comfort with being handled and we are within 75 days of our first calf of the year. Our youngest pregnant heifer got an infection in her jaw late last year, and needed antibiotic shots for several weeks. Trying to inject her, even when she was haltered and held by two or more adults, turned in to a rodeo every time. The two beef steers are far waspier than the dairy cows, and we need to be prepared in case they need veterinary care prior to slaughter.

We are regularly incubating 1000 quail eggs each month, and are expecting 500 or so to hatch out this weekend. I used to think winter was our “down time” but it actually seems like we are busier when it’s cold than when it’s warm, since chores take so much longer when the ground is alternately frozen and flooded, there is no irrigation water, and everyone is cold and needs to be supplemented with feed because the forage is limited. Sometime this week, I’ve also really got to fire my kiln…

Although we’ve had our ram, Tchin’dii, in with the ewes since Fall I don’t know if we’ll have Navajo-Churro lambs from our flock this year. He seems interested in the girls but doesn’t seem all that interested in doing anything about it and we’ve yet to catch any of the sheep “doing the deed.” Matt bought me a chalk vest to put on Tchin’dii, but Churros are notoriously wild and afraid of humans, even if they were hand-raised. It hasn’t seemed worth the hassle to tackle him just to put on the vest. I guess that if we end up with lambs this spring, it will definitely be a surprise!

Last night’s self-sufficient dinner was beef enchiladas. I use a recipe from my aunt. It allows us to use the meat from last year’s steer mixed with boiled eggs from our hens and onions from the garden.