Shades of Green Farm

This is a very long post... a story...

... a tale of farming on the wane…. a heart sharing from me- jules.

So, it’s been awhile since I’ve written on this blog.  There have been several long gaps over these years of having our Shades of Green Farm blog. Each time there’s a reason… sometimes I know exactly what it is and just have a hard time getting past the block. Other times, the weeks just slip away and I’m not even aware of this one-among-many tasks I’m letting slide by. And what’s the issue this time?

Perhaps it’s because the fire trauma took a long time to wear itself out. It pretty much has passed at this point… even though I have to drive through a chunk of the devastation several times a week and there are moments when I feel the tears coming back. Now it’s less about fear (but watch how fast I can pack a bag and get it in the car on a wildly windy day!) and more about grief for the trees and the wildlife and the many displaced people who have no homes to return to. As the thousands of dead trees are cut down and chipped or positioned to reduce erosion, the barren quality of the ash-covered, black-and-white photo landscape I drive through has an impact that at times feels like erosion… the gradual wearing away of my upbeat mood the longer it takes to pass through the burn zone. But my joy returns more easily now.

And there are signs of returning life all over the place! It is amazing and truly hope-filled to see how a fig at Pine Crone Retreat Center has begun to sprout new leaves from the base of the scorched remains of it’s many-branched trunk. In the labyrinth whose rock-shaped paths are now set amidst an ashen ground, the grass is beginning to show itself in thin blades of bright green against the gray background. And some of the vines that once grew on the porches that once surrounded the two houses of Pine Crone—incongruously,  the vines begin to emerge—incongruous because there is no structure for them to grow on. A simple fix, this; simply bring back the metal trellises that are now leaning against a fence on our farm… now there’s a use for them again.

So, while the fires shut me down and diverted my attention, I cannot honestly claim that the challenge I face in writing and posting is solely about that.  Our land was spared and daily life on the land has not changed very much... or rather, the changes aren't related to the fire. Before the fire, I wasn’t writing here, and two months later I’m still not writing, even as other elements of life returned to 'normal'.

Perhaps it’s because I feel like a fake… writing about farming when our farm work has become so severely limited in scope. And perhaps the part of me that feels relief that this is so, is ashamed as much as the part that is sad feels defeat and failure.  The truth is I’ve been a farmer but am no longer farming… and yes, a part of me feels relief.

I have spend many an hour wondering about whether or not “I am a farmer”. Obviously, I was in that I was certainly farming—producing food for others in ways that I felt were sustainable, humane and appropriate. The work was also exhausting and did not earn us a living. So, I doubted. And I missed being a teacher. And missed the energy to engage in art. Now, I am substitute teacher. Now I have more energy. The other restriction on doing art continues—we live in such a tiny space that there is no room to set any work up for longer than a few hours at a time. And that will change—perhaps even soon.

Our farm is up for sale. Our debt load over the double water well expense and trying to build up a farm with limited income, followed by the loss of that income, combined to make staying on our land next to impossible. We’ve sold our camper van, two calves, two flocks of laying hens and myriad equipment since spring, trying to keep ‘farming’ and pay the bills in the absence of reliable income. There’s not much left to sell… except the farm itself… the land, the improvements, the beauty and potential and maybe even the four cows we have left.

And when we move we have the opportunity to live in a home with more than one room; with space to work and to do art and to sleep in peace if the other of us is still up. A place with a bathroom and a tub and shower and enough hot water to take a full blown shower or bath every day… to clean and soak this water-sign-womon as much as I need it… and in so doing, to replenish my own inner well. All this is very good and sits in such odd accompaniment to the sorrow and pain of considering this move away from the land we've loved and lived on for five years.

We don’t know where we’ll go yet. We haven’t sold this place yet either and our prayers ask that the money comes in to stay here and pay our bills until it is sold. And we ask that those who follow care for this land and hopefully continue to develop its agricultural capabilities.

And finally, there's gratitude... for the land, for the opportunity to build our home and farm up from land that contained only cattle and potential. Gratitude for the hands of education that builds deep appreciation for all those who produce our food. Gratitude for finding out what my body and soul were capable of doing... and even what proved to be over-whelming at time.

I want to thank all of you who have followed this blog, who have supported and cared about Shades of Green Farm over the years, who treasure wholesome food and all that means. We may end up somewhere near here (the little town of Elgin is one place that calls us); we may keep raising broilers for ourselves and friends who love them. We just don’t know. I hold myself open to all the possibilities of the wondrous life that is awaiting to unfold… and take with me countless life lessons learned on this land… farming.

Our Dog Aubie Needs a New Home

The two pictures below show off our beautiful Aubie in the snow and with a chick... still don't know if she was going to eat that chick or not, but we've got her to the point of leaving the poultry alone, even though she is at least part Nova Scotian Duck Tolling Retriever. Aubie has a strong desire to "do right" and works very hard to overcome her hunting instincts. We do not ask her to overcome these instincts when it comes to chasing squirrels and barking off potential predators on the farm.

Aubie is 4 years old and needs a home with a family that has no dogs or young children. We found her by the dumpster in the rural area we live in near Bastrop; she was healthy but underweight. She is completely current with her health care, including being spayed; we have her vet records. She will need an annual exam and rabies/distemper shots in mid-July. Since we found her 3 years ago, she's been fed Wellness dry food, plus the eggs she finds around the farm and organic meat scraps she gets because we love her and she loves them. Her recent visit confirmed she's a very healthy gal.

She is an absolute sweetheart with people; our pet care person claimed Aubie is a healer the moment she met her. Her perfect home would include being an indoor dog some of the time (especially at night and for storms or gun shots), with lots of exercise and time to play in water, too (she is a great swimmer and has learned not to paw the humans in the water with her). She does fine with other dogs until they sniff her butt or approach food she wants. We wouldn't want to risk a dog or small child who might accidentally mess with her butt or food and get bitten. We don't know how she is with cats but we think she can learn not to make a fun toy of then.(The reason we have to let her go is she recently fought with our other dog and wouldn't stop until we pulled her off, leaving some bad bites. Whether this was from food aggression or alpha struggles, the tension didn't ease between the two of them and they now live separately here which isn't best for either.)

We're asking that her new owner pay $50 to cover her recent vet visit (cough guard shot and heartworm check, which was negative, of course, as she's been on Heartguard consistently). The cost is also to make sure you really want her and can take care of her~ she deserves a wonderful loving home! We will miss her so very much, this sweet dog we've called Aubie, Aubie Daubie, Aubie Bobbie, Aubster, Bobster, Bobbish, Bob, etc. etc.

Six More Drakes Gone, Six to Go

Well, I did it! With the help and support of two loving, farm-raised friends, I learned the how-to of killing ducks. On the spur of the moment, I asked Logan and Caroline if they'd help me slaughter some of the too-many drakes we had left. I showed them the video on 'breasting' duck, which takes out the scalding, plucking and eviserating processes and given how little other meat is on these young, not-meat birds, seemed the right thing to do.

After the first bird, Logan the one-time science teacher, gave both of us an anatomy lesson by looking over the sliced neck closely, finding the severed artery, the one left intact, the trachea (which you don't want to cut or the bird suffers and which was also intact) and the spinal cord. She carefully felt the next drake's neck as he hung passively in the cone, found the arrangement with her fingers, and cut. Next we decided to use the 'sticking' method I'd seen in another video, holding the trachea so that the knife point entered with the non-cutting edge sliding along the trachea, cutting both arteries easily. Now I felt ready to do it... together Logan and I had taken the time to find the smoothest, best approach and I knew I could do it. The first time Logan held her hand over mine, the next time I did it solo.

For each drake, Logan and I worked together to get him in place-- she opened and closed the pen door so I could focus on keeping a close but gentle hold on the bird I had netted. We walked slowly over to the processing area, breathing calmness and me feeling his racing heart slow. At first I held the legs while Logan cut and Caroline kept the chickens away. We all gave our attention to easing the drake from life, watching his process, sending gratitude, holding his head because the dripping blood bothered him when it touched his eyes or nostrils... staying attentive the whole time... which seemed like a long time... and the birds were not panicked nor seemed in pain at all. It was as fine a slaughter experience as could be.

Once all 6 were killed and hung to bleed out, we began breasting. It took only one bird each to understand how to break the skin and the membranes in order to expose the breast meat and cut out each piece. From there it was easy and much much cleaner than full processing. In two hours, we had killed and breasted 6 drakes, buried the remains and cleaned up.

The twelve breast halves we ended up with were beautiful and more abundant than I expected to see. Caroline researched cooking duck breast online and we ended up salting them overnight. The next day, Caroline prepared them in the crock pot with a lot of onion, garlic and carrot and they came out like succulent roast slices-- yum!

No one took pictures since we were all busy with the process and Sue was at work, but here's a picture of Caroline (the wench) and Logan (the leather man) at the Renaissance Fest the next day. Deep gratitude to both for their fine friendship and sweet visit!

Processing on the Farm-- 3 hens and a duck

Last fall we incubated over 2 dozen duck eggs from our foursome of khakis and mongrels and another couple dozen from a friend who gave us khaki campbell eggs. We raised them in the brooder where they made an incredible mess and I concluded I'll never do that again... brood on pasture, if I do it at all. We ended up with over half of them being drakes (males) and given that the purpose was to increase duck egg production, we planned to eliminate all but 2 of the drakes.

When I told my foodie friend Sonya that we could cook a young drake when she came to visit, she was thrilled. She also said she'd like to "do the whole thing" and start with slaughter. So, when Martha the chef (a new friend met at a farmer rights conference) called about having a class on working with the whole chicken, I told her about our plan to process some drakes here on the farm. I said we could add a few of our older hens to the day's work so that she and I could figure out how to set up the day for folks attending. And given that neither of us had ever slaughtered or eviserated poultry, it seemed like a really good idea for her to join us. Finally, Rachel (another foodie friend who has cooked with Sonya before) was happy to be invited to join the crew, work with us, and make Sonya's traditional roasted duck recipe that evening.

Sonya and I spent Friday scrounging around and we put together a fine slaughter station using an old feed and water sled for pastured broilers, an etched glass shower door panel whose swan image inserted a bit of grandeur to the set up (thanks to Rachel for her bulk trash pickings),  a couple 'found' traffic cones and a brand new fillet knife that was sharp sharp. This and the propane burner and pot (thanks to John) and several buckets to hold feathers and clean up water, and we were ready. We also searched out and organized several helpful YouTube videos on every step of processing, eliminating the gross and unhelpful clips which were sadly abundant and frequently upsetting. We also caught up 4 drakes and 4 hens and put them in a pasture pen nearby with water but no feed... however, there was a fair amount of grass in the pen, which later showed up in the crops of the hens.

Saturday morning Rachel and Martha arrived and we toured them through our set-up, then watched the videos carefully, hoping to gain the readiness to kill along with the skills to do it right. We were ready to start... as ready as we could be given our various natures and lack of experience. Rachel had done this once before, but chopped the head off instead of bleeding out... and a couple of decades had gone by since. She killed the first bird, a hen that hadn't been laying for awhile and didn't seem to be feeling very well ever since her last molt. I brought her over from the holding pen (as I did in each case) and put her in the cone. Rachel's hand was sure and swift and that hen bled out just fine. Our propane powered scalding pot was ready to go, the dipping arrangement worked well after a couple alterations, the plucking not too hard. The eviseration was a whole other thing, with us not knowing exactly what we were looking for, the scooping out process not at all the single movement described in the videos, and all of us concerned about the gall bladder (which by the way, we never nicked or broke this day). We were eventually done and that hen was put in ice water to cool and I went off for the next hen.

Our plan was to each of us do each task, taking turns. I confess I did not kill, although I got pretty comfortable eviserating, feeling for the innards and finding them... never in one scoop however. We all watched as life ebbed from the 3 hens and the 1 drake we processed that day. Sue joined in periodically when she wasn't doing chores or errands, took a few pictures, and was witness to life passing.We learned a lot, shared laughter and a solemn respect for life and the gift of meat given. That evening we enjoyed a scrumptious meal featuring Tuscan baked duck.

I came away knowing that I could kill and that I needed to work with someone who really knew how to make the kill smoothly, and teach me the movement. I learned the set-up and the respectful gratitude has always been there... I just need to learn how to kill... and I will.

Left to right: Martha, Sonja, Rachel and jules... and the killing and eviseration table.

Farming in the Freeze

 

Well, well, the second hard freeze lasting more than a day, and this one following the last by only a week. Ch Ch Ch Changes... to be sure.

For our farming, persistent freezing temps mean breaking the surface of frozen water troughs several times a day (with the large cattle trough building up ice over an inch thick). In one day, the small poultry troughs were frozen solid, at which point we switched to rubber pans we can crack the 'cube' out of them each day to fill again... and again. It means carrying water in buckets to water troughs several times a day. It means adding extra hay and tarps to keep chickens in pastures warm enough and for one flock, it's looking like some of them are catching a cold, so that means adding garlic-infusion and vitamin E to their drinking water and kelp meal to their feed. It means we collect eggs 3 times a day and any eggs found in the nests cold in the morning are not sold but cracked and checked before use... and most are indeed frozen.

It also means having one source of unfrozen water for all of our needs... and oh boy-howdy, are we grateful that line hasn't broken or frozen solid! To keep the one pipe that remains open unfrozen, we have to run the faucet constantly, at more than a drip... but at least we now have a well that provides good water, which is another source of gratitude in our lives.

And so it goes. Put all your warm layers on, go out and work, come in, take off most layers and get warm inside and out. Go out.... yep, farming.

:-)

Global warming vs. climate change-- our big freeze

Ah, to those who say we can't be having global warming because it's so darn cold I say extreme weather conditions reflect the changing climate caused by the warming... and the proof is in the weather. We're in our third day of freezing temps, which is not what is 'supposed' to happen here in central Texas. Freeze at night, sure... then thaw by late morning. Not constant freezing temps for days on end!

Check out the photo album for pictures of the farm in snow!

Life is Good-- Time with Family

Some years pass in swooshes of time that pass in a flash and are looked back on with surprise at the speed of months gone by with little in the way of discord, discomfort... or even discovery.

Some years pass at an agonizingly slow pace and seem crammed beyond capacity with challenges that feel too much to bear... and when we look back it is with gratitude for its ending... and maybe for the lessons learned.

And then we have the 12 months that pass between the annual community-family reunion that Sue and I find our way to each year that nurtures us and prepares for whatever comes in between. Without this, I know I would be hard pressed to find my way through the years of change and challenge we've spent since moving to Texas. In the past couple years, it has taken quite a bit of effort to make the journey happen, and yet somehow we get there~ we get the hugs and laughter, song and silence, peace and respite that fills our souls and supports us in ways often indescribable.

We are heading there now, in our own ways... Sue is soon to arrive and continue the work already begun to prepare the space for the rest of us to  gather. I am spending fabulous time with family in Iowa... I get a whole week and am loving the time to chat, play cards, go places together, catch up with our lives and make sure my Grands don't forget me, their B'Ja. Next week I travel north to join Sue and all the rest for another week of love and learning. A couple days ago, we had a surprise opportunity to spend time with Sue's sister and partner and see how their life on the road goes for them.

Our farm in ably tended by Meagan, who gives sweet updates about the chicks growing in the brooder, the dogs playing catch, the calves' antics, and the myriad details about hens, ducks, eggs, and life in the little house we left in her care. She loves the time and space for herself- oh joy!

We're out of phone range for awhile, waaay back in the Michigan woods, but we'd had plenty of time to clear up the questions that inevitably pop up when someone steps into another family or farmer's role... I am at ease knowing all will be well.

Life is Good-- Chicks in the Brooder

What a surprise!!

In Sue's amazing magical way, we have ended up with the replacement flock for our aging first flock of layers, just in time to get them settled before taking our much-anticipated-and-prepared-for vacation.

We were unsure how to proceed with getting chicks started given that the hatchery nearby was no longer hatching or selling our Hyline Brown gals... it didn't look good for a full flock replacement and Sue kept saying we needed to find at least 100 chicks... somewhere. I am eager to work with a flock of old-fashion heritage breed hens to see if we can somehow balance the cost of fewer eggs with less feed consumption and end up, if not ahead, at least not making less money from our eggs. But this endeavor requires more time and prep (and cash outlay) than we had available, so back to the table we went, trying to figure it out.

Completely out of the blue Sue gets a call from someone who asked if we could take several hundred Hyline Browns hatched that morning... she confirmed us for 200 and off she went to pick them up while I got the brooder ready to receive them. Now they're growing and no longer need starter feeders or drinkers, are off their heat lamps and are set to go outside and play later this week. Truly amazing... some might say miraculous... certainly we say "thank you!"

Of course, a chunk of work awaits us when we return, getting them settled into their pasture house and beginning their live on pasture, then re-prepping the brooder for fall broilers... but that's farming and we'll be all rested and ready to go.

And Oh, how I love the chickies! To say nothing of the great pleasure of watching maiden eggs begin to be laid in their lustrous new, dark shells... and knowing we'll have eggs for our customers well into the future.

Cattle Pictures-- SO Cute!

Are bovines cute? They sure are as babies and I think even our big old ladies, Pip and Pen, have their cutish moments. When I went to take pictures of our newest heifer, Camila, I took the opportunity to catch the other gals on film as well. (There's another word-play question-- digital cameras don't capture anything on 'film', so what do we say now? "I caught them on the memory card" "I snapped some digitals of them". Hmmm...)

Anyway, here are the gals of Shades of Green Farm South Poll herd.

Pen-- Penelope Bovine-- is about 10 yrs old. She's the top gal in the herd. She's just finished licking some salt and is looking pensive as she savors the flavors in that good Redmond Salt.

Pen with her yearling calf from last year, Bette. They look so sweet together, but really Pen is keeping Bette from getting to some of that good salt.

And now just Bette, face on, looking much smaller than her size. This is the baby born looking like a bull, and acting like one too. (Is this where the term bulldyke came from?) At birth, she was a wild thing; now, she lets me pet her now and then, and loves to hang out with her younger sister, Loretta Mae.

Here's Philimena, the first calf born on our farm... the very bonita lady who has been a curious gal from the start and the one who stole my heart... and kept it. We were offered $1,000 for her last summer; she is the epitome of a young South Poll heifer... and we're keeping her.

And, of course, Pip with her young one, Camila... you won't find Pip far from her baby right now and when I come around, with a camera or not, she stays very close. When we gave Camila her ear tag, Pip bawled and almost came close enough to knock Salud over!

Camila is another fine specimen, with her light coloring, although she's a bit shaggy like Bette was.

If you didn't notice while admiring our gals, take a look at the grasses these gals are standing in... over 2' tall in some places! What a great year this has been so far, and we've got more rain on the way today and tonight. Haven't fed hay since winter, which saves us much-needed money. Yay for long, wet springs and summer when the rain still finds her way to our farm!

Loretta Mae~ Kevin Names the Newest Gal on the Farm

Penelope Bovine surprised us a couple weeks ago by showing up one morning with a little one in tow. She must have given birth in the night, which isn’t surprising; what was surprising was that she didn’t look that far along. This only being our second year witnessing the birth of calves, we have much more to learn that we’ve got under our belts… but I did think she had another week or two left before being ready. For those not into bovine gynecology, I’ll spare the details; suffice to say that there are visible changes and she wasn’t showing that much yet.

What a delight to get the call from Sue that she saw a baby as she drove past! What extra thrill we got when I saw that our newest baby was another heifer, making it three of the four we want to have in place before Pip and Pen are retired from calving. Pip still hasn’t has hers, and I must say, we’re hoping for a boy. We have enjoyed the incredible goodness of the beef from the steer we kept and would very much like knowing that more will be on the way, from our own land, come next winter. In either case, we’ll enjoy the second and final birth for this year.

Kevin, our fabulous intern, went down and saw her and decided he’d like to name her—Loretta Mae is such an old fashion, sweet name for this spunky, oh-no-you-won’t-put-a-halter-on-me little gal. I had hoped to have her halter trained and milk her when the time came, but she would have none of it, so is free of the halter and the lead and is still a bit leery of me when I come around. Nice to have her, though!

Here's the little darlin' on her first day.