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Showing posts with label farm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label farm. Show all posts
Dec 6, 2012
Anyone Can Build a Tub-Style Mechanical Chicken Plucker by Herrick KimballMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
This is great! Seriously, step-by-step instructions on building your own backyard chicken plucker written with enough humor to keep you turning the pages. Okay - I admit - it's a niche market book, but it's extremely well done.
Nov 22, 2012
Fall arrived with colorful leaves,
crispy apples – and mice. On the farm, battling mice without a good barn cat is
like trying to lose weight on an ice cream diet. I almost got used to seeing
the little rodents zip across the beams and dart around corners. At least I
stopped jumping each time I saw one. Then one morning I reached into a feed bin
and a mouse ran up my arm. After executing a dance never seen before or since,
I got in the truck and headed to town.
Still rubbing my mouse scaled arm, I
told the nice lady at the animal shelter I wanted to adopt their most ornery
cat. She looked at me like I was nuts. (I get that a lot.)
At their floor-to-ceiling cat cage
and she pointed out a Siamese wedged in one corner with her ears pinned to her
head. “That one has bitten everyone who works here.”
“I’ll take her.” (I got that look
again.)
I learned long ago that ornery cats
do better in a barn setting than timid or lackadaisical cats. They aren’t
afraid to stand up to the occasional raccoon or opossum, not to mention the
farm dogs and an equally ornery ram or two.
“Will you get her out of the pen?”
the nice lady asked me, casting a wary eye between the growling cat and me. I’m
not sure who she was more worried about.
I grabbed a pair of leather gloves
from the truck and gathered up the hissing cat. The ride home was punctuated by
a variety of pointedly unhappy feline sounds. It occurred to me that I might
have bitten off more than I could chew. I’ve tamed a lot of critters, but this snarling
Siamese spitfire might prove my undoing.
Miss Kitty fit in our barn like a
turtle in its shell. She pressed herself up under the eaves and poked her nose
out just far enough to hiss at me. Earning her trust would not happen
overnight. Even though I was the person who freed her from the cage, she didn’t
look at me as her savior. If she could have spit in my eye, I’ve no doubt she
would have. Fortune was on my side since cats can’t actually spit.
At chores both morning and night, I
climbed the side of the barn – it was a single-story structure – and talk to
her up there under the eaves. At first I’d just talk until she stopped making
threatening noises. Gradually she allowed me to stroke her face, then her neck,
and then her back. Each new inch was a victory in trust. It took weeks before I
could pull her out from her hiding place and hold her. Finally the breakthrough
day came when I heard her purr.
Trust came hard for Miss Kitty. Life
had knocked her around a few times. Once she learned it, however, she never
looked back. For years she greeted me at chore time with a head-bump against my
leg. Safe, happy, and full of mice, she became a valuable partner on the farm. Never
again did a mouse run up my arm – not in Miss Kitty’s barn.
Sep 12, 2012
Nothing demonstrates wholehearted devotion to duty like a
Border Collie. Born to work, a Border Collie without a job will create one of
its own. Generally speaking, these dog generated “jobs” involve things
unpalatable to humans; such as chasing off cars, barking at marauding
butterflies, and digging emergency evacuation routes under the fence. Given a constructive
job to do, the Border Collie will tirelessly stay on task until removed from
the scene.
Tam, our Border Collie, is now deaf and no longer actively
helps with the sheep. Even so, she runs the fenceline continuously, keeping her
eye on the flock grazing the other side. In her world, she’s on the clock and
working.
The exact opposite in the canine world is our St. Bernard,
Buck. His only chosen occupation is to hold down our deck and watch the world
go by. Buck starts out excited when released from the dog pen each morning. He
runs with Tam to the fence to make sure the sheep are where they belong. Unlike
her, he is immediately distracted by a smell or a sound and wanders off to
investigate. Within minutes, Buck has found his way to his customary spot on
the deck and converted himself into a large, hairy welcome mat.
As Christians, we can
dig unnecessary escape routes, or we can lie on the deck and watch the world go
by. God has given us free will, after all. But how much better to use our lives
for a constructive purpose. . .the one God has in mind for us. Caleb followed
the Lord fully and waited forty-five years for his reward. His faithfulness and
devotion was indeed well rewarded, for his strength never wavered.
May 30, 2012
Boom!
My son and I look at each other across the kitchen, eyes wide.
“What was that?”
“I’ve no idea.”
We shrug and move to the living room to watch a documentary on Lewis and
Clark. History geeks that we are, we call this high entertainment. And
one-on-one time spent with a college student in his last year at home is
priceless.
Boom! Boom!
I look out the window at the smoking burn barrel.
“What did you throw in the trash?” This question is followed by his first
and middle names.
“Nothing.”
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Our back yard has taken on the look and demeanor of a war zone. Noses
pressed against the windows, we watch as several more explosions launch flaming
bits of paper into the stratosphere.
“’Nothing’ doesn’t blow up.”
His shoulders start to jiggle and his lips twitch.
“What did you throw in the trash?” I not only use his first, middle and
last names. . .at this point I’m reciting his entire social security number.
“I might have thrown away some old CO2 cartridges I used to use in that
pellet gun Grandpa gave me.”
“You’re going to be the death of us yet.”
“Yeah, but isn’t it cool?”
We stand and watch more flaming eruptions and smoldering fallout.
Thankfully the ground is still frozen and half covered with snow. I wrap an arm
around my son’s waist and lean my head on his shoulder.
“You’re an idiot, but I love you.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
I can picture my Heavenly Father, with His arm around my shoulder,
standing side-by-side with me as I blow up things in my life. He loves me, even
when I’m an idiot. Even when I loose flaming debris across the landscape of the
life He has purposed for me. Praise God!
May 16, 2012
The unusual contortion of my son’s face was my first clue. His cereal
bowl hung suspended under his chin. His jaw elongated below closed lips. His eyes
attempted to abandon ship.
“Did you put the lamb’s milk replacer on your cereal?” I asked.
Arms and legs flailing, he managed a mad dash out the back door where he
heaved his meager breakfast over the edge of the deck. When I could control my
spasmic middle and had wiped the tears from my eyes, I was quite impressed he
achieved this feat without spilling a drop on the kitchen floor.
The night before, I mixed a double batch of milk replacer for our orphan
lamb. The only container I found big enough to hold it was an empty milk jug.
Knowing this could be mistaken, I dutifully wrote “Milk Replacer” in thick
black marker on all sides of the jug. This apparently wasn’t good enough for my
sleepy-eyed son.
He accused me of trying to poison him. I assured him that if 8 ounces
didn’t kill a 12-pound lamb, one mouthful – thoroughly ejected – wasn’t going
to poison a 225-pound adult man. He was less than mollified and not at all
amused.
Achan (Joshua - chapter 7) took the things forbidden by God purposefully. He and his family
paid a terrible price. But we can also grab on to things accidentally that will
strain our relationship with God. By not paying attention to what we are
consuming, we leave ourselves open to unholy thoughts. A television program, a
magazine, a book – all innocent diversions we enjoy – hold the potential to
expose us to spiritually harmful things.
My son came away with a bad taste in his mouth for his inattention.
Inattention in other areas can be far more damaging. Be careful what you
consume.
Apr 13, 2011
Even though I fully expected Dance to have triplets this year, due to her size as well as the poorer quality of her wool when I sheared, it was still a thrill to get all three delivered, up and nursing tonight. All three are white, 2 ewe lambs and 1 ram lamb. This is the first one born getting cleaned up.
Not unexpected, but not welcome either. I predict our feed costs will double, as they did last time gas hit $4/gallon. Look for food prices to skyrocket in the coming year. It'll cost more to raise food, harvest food, and get the food to market. And I think it's high time I trained at least one of our horses to pull that cart stored in the barn. I need a new harness but as things are now, a good harness will cost me less than a full tank of gas. Mr. Ed's IGA has a nice hitching post behind their store. Sorry Wal-Mart, I don't save money if I have to pay gas to get there!
It's that time of year again! Actually, this the latest we've ever started lambing. Since Jeff aged out of 4-H and we didn't need lambs born in January to be ready for the fair, I've pushed back the start of lambing a little more each year. I think I've hit upon the perfect formula now. The rams go in the day before deer season; the lambs arrive the middle of April. That's after hypothermia cold and before fly season. Brilliant!
I only kept 6 ewes this winter. There are 3 aged ewes and 3 yearlings out in the barn. I like to see yearlings have a single their first year, but it looks like China might have twins. Queen and Lilly should be carrying singles. The older girls all look good. EweNika and Mingle should have twins and Dance looks like she may be carrying triplets.
Watch here for updates and photos as the 2011 lambs arrive.
Jan 26, 2011
Michigan weather can be as fickle as any feline. Warm and wrapping itself around your ankles one minute, hissing and spitting at you the next. A common phrase here is, "If you don't like the weather, wait 24 hours."
For the last week we didn't have temperatures... we had minus temperatures. It would have had to warm up to get cold! It was what we call in these parts, "booger-freezin'". The goal is simply to get from point A to point B with all your digits their original color and your face still flexible enough for speech.
I suit up for morning chores in the dark, before 6:00 a.m., and this morning followed the normal routine of insulated coveralls, wool hat, chore boots, knit gloves and finally leather gloves. Three steps outside the back door and I knew I was overdressed. I opened the hatch to our outdoor wood burner and discovered not only coals, but logs still in there. Yup, it was warm all night. After hanging the grain buckets for the horses, I pulled off the leather gloves. After feeding the sheep, I stuck my wool hat in my pocket. By the time I'd tossed out the horse hay, I had my coverall unzipped by half. Once the dogs were fed and the grain buckets put away, the knit gloves were off and I was on my way back to the house, pulling the coveralls off my shoulders as I went.
How warm was it to cause this change in attire and reduced amount of wood burned? It was 27 degrees. Honestly! But after the preceeding week, it was the warmest 27 degrees I've ever felt. I'm not ready for shorts yet... but maybe next week we'll up to freezing!
For the last week we didn't have temperatures... we had minus temperatures. It would have had to warm up to get cold! It was what we call in these parts, "booger-freezin'". The goal is simply to get from point A to point B with all your digits their original color and your face still flexible enough for speech.
I suit up for morning chores in the dark, before 6:00 a.m., and this morning followed the normal routine of insulated coveralls, wool hat, chore boots, knit gloves and finally leather gloves. Three steps outside the back door and I knew I was overdressed. I opened the hatch to our outdoor wood burner and discovered not only coals, but logs still in there. Yup, it was warm all night. After hanging the grain buckets for the horses, I pulled off the leather gloves. After feeding the sheep, I stuck my wool hat in my pocket. By the time I'd tossed out the horse hay, I had my coverall unzipped by half. Once the dogs were fed and the grain buckets put away, the knit gloves were off and I was on my way back to the house, pulling the coveralls off my shoulders as I went.
How warm was it to cause this change in attire and reduced amount of wood burned? It was 27 degrees. Honestly! But after the preceeding week, it was the warmest 27 degrees I've ever felt. I'm not ready for shorts yet... but maybe next week we'll up to freezing!
Waiting is always the hardest part. We're in waiting mode at Twin Willows Farm. The first lambs should arrive this weekend, but as with humans, due dates are fickle things. Our ewes are naturally bred by the ram, no artificial insemination or use of a marking harness to give us a calendar date. Instead, the ram is turned out with his ewes in the fall and we count ahead five months for the first possible lambs. It looks like they will stretch things out this year. Two of our ewes are very close to lambing and a couple may be as much as a month away. Only time will tell. Watch for updates and photos of the newborns when they arrive. Golly... I love this time of year!
Feb 24, 2010
"Load the .22 and come out here." Hardly the normal greeting I expect when answering the phone. But then, my husband rarely calls me from the barn. Being a dutiful wife, I moved the frying pan off the stove, loaded the .22 and headed out to the barn.
Silhouetted in the barn door, Michael stood keeping our dogs away from a very large possum. The scraggly creature was weaving around in the drive leading to the barn. One look and I knew why he'd called me and kept the dogs away. That possum wasn't healthy. I didn't want to get very close to it myself. I'm a pretty good shot but it was dark except for the light shining out of the barn door and I missed with the first bullet. Chagrined, I moved closer and put the possum down.
Michael disposed of the body while I returned to the house and finished dinner. We sat together, enjoying salmon burgers and salad when it occurred to me that other people might find this rather odd. I asked my husband, "Do you think it's callus that we can put down a possum and fifteen minutes later be sitting here and calmly eating dinner?" His response was, "It's not like we're eating the possum." I married a very wise man.
Feb 10, 2010
It's been a snowing, blowing kind of northern Michigan day. Nothing out of the ordinary, just February being February, you understand. The wind shifted at some point from east-northeast to north-northwest. When that happens, we get a substantial amount of drifting in the barnyard. I suppose the logical progression of events should be removing the drifts before starting chores under these circumstances. But one really can't look into the soulful eyes of a hungry horse and tell him to wait, now can one?
In foul weather we carry the horse hay out into their shelter. Tonight there were two large drifts between the main barn and the gate to our horse paddock. With a scant half bale of alfalfa hay, weighing roughly 25 pounds, balanced securely on my left shoulder, I cleared the first drift easily. I stepped over the second drift that reached well above my knees and my right foot came down on the other side. The other side which consisted of a thin layer of snow covering a firm base of ice.
Watching my right knee twist sideways and my right foot lodge under the wooden fence, I deliberately pitched forward to prevent alfalfa chaff from getting into my eyes as the hay came crashing down on top of me. It took me only a moment to get my foot retrieved and climb gingerly back to my feet. It appeared everything was still in working order, so I gathered up the hay and finished chores.
Back in the house, I stripped out of my chaff-laden clothing and headed for the shower to get rid of the rest of the hay, including that which had taken up residence in my ear. Now here I sit, leg elevated, knee iced and rethinking the whole issue of a hungry horse with soulful eyes. You know... I think he could have waited after all.
Nov 24, 2009
Do you want to stop all conversation going on around you? Do you want all eyes in the room focused on you? Do you want people to take a step back and give you some space? This is easily accomplished by uttering a simple little sentence, "I need to get home and cut up a deer."
Our son brought home a nice sized spike buck last Tuesday. Being the thoughtful young man that he is, he hung it up in the garage before beating a hasty retreat back to college. The usual collection of friends and neighbors stopped by that first night to "ooh" and "aah" over this particular example of nature's bounty. The next night, however, there was nobody in sight. It was time to start cutting and wrapping.
Perhaps people are too squeamish these days to lend a hand cutting up a carcass. Or perhaps they are leery of a wild-haired, empty nesting, menopausal woman wielding a large knife. It's hard to say.
Our son brought home a nice sized spike buck last Tuesday. Being the thoughtful young man that he is, he hung it up in the garage before beating a hasty retreat back to college. The usual collection of friends and neighbors stopped by that first night to "ooh" and "aah" over this particular example of nature's bounty. The next night, however, there was nobody in sight. It was time to start cutting and wrapping.
Perhaps people are too squeamish these days to lend a hand cutting up a carcass. Or perhaps they are leery of a wild-haired, empty nesting, menopausal woman wielding a large knife. It's hard to say.
Oct 30, 2009
This week was sheep shearing at Twin Willows Farm. Here is a Youtube video that shows the process well. The sheep being shorn in the video is a Border Leicester, the same breed I raise.
I shear my sheep twice a year because Border Leicesters grow 10" to 12" of wool in a year. My wool customers prefer the fleece length between 4.5" and 5.5". That's the optimum length for many types of preparation before spinning.
Enjoy the video of this nice gentleman shearing. I do my shearing solo with no photographer in sight. It's just me, the sheep and my bottle of Aleve.
I shear my sheep twice a year because Border Leicesters grow 10" to 12" of wool in a year. My wool customers prefer the fleece length between 4.5" and 5.5". That's the optimum length for many types of preparation before spinning.
Enjoy the video of this nice gentleman shearing. I do my shearing solo with no photographer in sight. It's just me, the sheep and my bottle of Aleve.
Oct 19, 2009
Relocating family and farm, we moved 225 miles in late fall of 2000. The month was November and winter knocked at our door. A vast, sprawling barn that once housed dairy cattle needed immediate attention. One exterior wall had to be rebuilt and space converted to suitable shelter for the horse, sheep and farm dogs. Snow swirled overhead as the last board was nailed in place. With everything safely out of the elements, we settled into a new routine and put the remaining necessary repairs on hold until spring.
Two enormous willow trees flanked the tri-level house, inspiring the name Twin Willows Farm. The same trees caused considerable damage to the roof shingles. With each snowfall pieces of shingle would slide off into the deep drifts below. Roof repair hit the top of our home improvement project list. We prayed it would stay sound enough until spring. It did. The roofing crew arrived on the first weather permitting day. They stripped and shingled the entire roof, all three levels, in one day. Mission accomplished!
Spring brought not only rain, but layers of melting snow. The driveway, we discovered, lacked gravel. It lacked gravel so much that our little car sank halfway to it's axles during one particularly heavy downpour. Home improvement project #2 presented itself. The paving crew arrived shortly after the roofing crew left.
The sound of metal ringing against metal filled our weekends for the next month. Metal posts driven into the rocky, uncooperative ground as the base for new fence to be stretched. Horse fence consisted of three strands of electrified wire and went up quickly. Sheep need more protection from coyotes and roaming dogs. Woven wire requires more posts and must be stretched and clamped to each one. Electric wires, both above and close to the ground inside the woven wire, are also needed to keep coyotes from going over or digging under the fence. During the summer our pastures took shape.
In the following years our little farm has continued to improve. One project at a time, it's becoming the place we want it to be. From killing thistles to patching barn roof holes to fixing gates, it's a never ending job. We keep a dozen or so Border Leicester sheep, a dozen or so Silver Fox rabbits, three horses, three dogs, a couple of cats and one geriatric duck named Herb. Life is good.
Two enormous willow trees flanked the tri-level house, inspiring the name Twin Willows Farm. The same trees caused considerable damage to the roof shingles. With each snowfall pieces of shingle would slide off into the deep drifts below. Roof repair hit the top of our home improvement project list. We prayed it would stay sound enough until spring. It did. The roofing crew arrived on the first weather permitting day. They stripped and shingled the entire roof, all three levels, in one day. Mission accomplished!
Spring brought not only rain, but layers of melting snow. The driveway, we discovered, lacked gravel. It lacked gravel so much that our little car sank halfway to it's axles during one particularly heavy downpour. Home improvement project #2 presented itself. The paving crew arrived shortly after the roofing crew left.
The sound of metal ringing against metal filled our weekends for the next month. Metal posts driven into the rocky, uncooperative ground as the base for new fence to be stretched. Horse fence consisted of three strands of electrified wire and went up quickly. Sheep need more protection from coyotes and roaming dogs. Woven wire requires more posts and must be stretched and clamped to each one. Electric wires, both above and close to the ground inside the woven wire, are also needed to keep coyotes from going over or digging under the fence. During the summer our pastures took shape.
In the following years our little farm has continued to improve. One project at a time, it's becoming the place we want it to be. From killing thistles to patching barn roof holes to fixing gates, it's a never ending job. We keep a dozen or so Border Leicester sheep, a dozen or so Silver Fox rabbits, three horses, three dogs, a couple of cats and one geriatric duck named Herb. Life is good.
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