The Turkey Without a Country

He was a gift.

The kind that should be immediately returned but you lose the receipt and weeks go by and you decide it's just easier to keep it. At first he was sweet and tiny and cute and because he was cared for by humans alone he imprinted all over us. Then winter ended and he was set loose out of the chicken pen.

Yes, we raised him with a bunch of baby chickens and a few orphan pea chicks and its no wonder he has serious identification issues. Although he's known me many months, when he saw me last week it was like his first time. I was immediately saluted.

It was on from that moment. He follows me all over the yard with his constant feather rattling and red neck giblets dangling.

If I go to the barn he goes to the barn. If I go to the house, he goes to the house. Pushing kids on the tire swing? Surre he's right there. Just about gets himself beheaded as he struts back and forth in front of the swinging Goodyear.Not all that different from my HS years. Many a turkey was attracted to me back then as well.

But, he wasn't  the only one in a good mood this week. Just check out the dueling peacocks.

Who would keep at it all day if they could.

Really, the colored guy isn't as impressive as you think. He had a lot of help from a strong southerly wind. Overall, I have to vote for the ghostly fellow.

And then Keith comes along and Mr Birdbrain Turkey suddenly abandons me for something in long pants. Most fickle pair of drumsticks I have ever known.

Saponification Sunday...International Fame

With over 5 decades behind me, I've been called many names. I would estimate 97% of them were accurate. I have never, however been called, (you might want to tell your minor children to leave the room) a" Maitre-Savoneur."

Yes, I know, seems harsh, but as I said most names I have been called, are deserved. This one however is beyond me. Literally. Six years of French, 3 in grade school, 3 in HS, were not helpful in ascertaining the meaning of this label. But looking at it in context, it seems to mean "Maker of soap." How about that?

Maitre-Savoneur looks so much better than "Soap Maker" and I have my blog friend Cro to thank for my new international fame. Since his post about my soap http://magnonsmeanderings.blogspot.com/2012/03/crobar.html#comment-form our lives have been rocked with TV crews, news helicopters hoping to actually view me in the soap making process, and authors wanting first chance at my bibliography.

In addition, my non-soap store is growing with several more orders via email. A school in Chicago is going to use my soap (80 bars) for a fundraiser and the gang at St James bought out a basket of my soap my daughter Raven brought to work. The best part is...This is just a hobby for me, the volume of which I have complete control over and the making of all this soap is pure fun. The first hobby I have had where income is over expenses ( by almost $20 !) How unexpected. Of course this week I need to order more oils and the balance will shift dramatically. Overall though,

The Soapy Life is Good.

However...This weeks creation was not as perfect as I would have liked. Fame has obviously already gone to my head and I became careless. Too much Titanium Dioxide. Lured into the desire for a crisp clean whiter bar I went overboard. When I cut it,  the bar was fine for the upper 2/3 and then crumbled slightly at the bottom. TD sure can heat things up and even though I plopped the soap in the frig for 24 hours I still had a slight gel in the middle.

The bits and bobs of other soaps made it playful enough and 3 days after making,  it created a smooth lather so I'll be able to keep most of it. Photos always show off imperfections and although I'd like to just showcase my best specimens, truth is, most of my specimens are highly imperfect. Looking back over the months I do see (and feel) improvements so I will trudge forward.

I was very brave with my EO's this week, combining Sweet Orange, Grapefruit, Patchouli, Lavender, and Geranium Rose in small amounts. It was sweet but not overly so. The Patchouli grounded it well. So now tell me, you other more experienced soap makers ...how much TD do you use per pound of oils? Many thanks and have great week !

The Renegade DAIRY Farmer

The Following Article was written for this Saturdays Issue  (3/17/12) of The Renegade Farmer

http://www.therenegadefarmer.com/

For those followers who already know our story I apologize for this "rerun"

For new followers to my blog ...read on and THANKS for coming aboard!

13 years ago when my husband and I started our Grade A Dairy, folks gave us funny looks. We had not come from dairy families. We had not inherited our dairy.  Statistically, licensed dairy farms had decreased from 131,509 in 1992 to 87,527 in 1999* the year we began. We had strong knowledge of what it means to run a dairy (my husband had worked for other dairy farmers for over a decade) and yet, we still bought a farm, built a barn, and filled it with cows.

Why?

Because it was my husbands dream that's why. He always wanted to own his own dairy farm and run it his way. So, we did.  Each of our cows were given a name, all of them had distinct personalities and my husband enjoyed being his own boss. Some days it went well, but over time our dairy farm turned sour. We liked what we did but hated the low pay dairy farmers often received for the 24/7 commitment. Since milk prices were set by beurocratic folks out of touch with real farmers, our milk checks were often far below our milk expenses.

More and more small dairy farms around us began closing their doors. Dairy cows were slaughtered for the families freezer or bought up by the Megafarms. From 1999 to 2009 licensed US Dairies decreased by ANOTHER 32, 595 farms.* We considered the same course.

Frustrated, we explored organic certification. It was a good fit with our beliefs about holistic, non-chemical and humane care of our herd, and 10 years into our lives as conventional dairy farmers, we transitioned. Organic certification further improved the health of our cows and our land but unfortunately made no difference in our milk checks. We were a small farm in an area of very few dairy farms and NO other organic dairy farms. The organic milk companies felt we were too small to mess with, not worth the gas needed to pick up our milk.

And still all around us and in our own state of Illinois, more dairy farms bit the dust. But  instead of following the trend we came up with something virtually un-"herd" of in the dairy world, the removal of Mr. Middle Man. Two years ago we started selling our milk ONLY to individuals who came to our farm, jug in hand. We showed them how to get the milk from our tanks and then we charged them FOUR times the amount the conventional milk company had been paying us. We weren't being greedy, we were just getting our income caught up with our expenses for the first time in years.

Our customers were happy because our charge for a gallon of milk was still HALF what they were paying for organic milk in the store.  Plus, the raw, 100% grass fed milk they bought from us was less than 24 hrs in the tank, more often only out of the cow 6-8 hours before it ended up in their own refrigerators. We had enough money to pay our  bills and our customers had found a place to buy the product they wanted for far less than they had been paying for milk sitting on the shelves for days and days.

Were we geniuses ? Rocker Scientists ? No. If we were we would have come up with this solution much earlier. We're just a couple of farmers who, when they found themselves with their backs up against the wall...took their small dairy business in their own hands.

Our cows, and nearly 100 raw milk customers a month, are glad we did.






* as reported in Hoard's Dairyman March 10, 2012  www.hoards.com

I need a few annuals please...

To fill up this monstrosity

See it?  Just in front of the silver car? To the right of the garage ? No? What are you? Middle-aged or something? Wait. I'll get closer.

Is that better?  So what is it ? An Art Deco bus stop? Well, I think it must be a planter of some sort. I'm not sure. I made a delivery to Green Grocer today in Chicago and then decided to go for a nice walk around the neighborhood, and there it was. So, I had to get even closer to see those hangy things, hanging down...

Oh, lights. They're lights. Sort of War of the Worlds looking huh? Yeah me too. Made of metal and colored glass. And check out the scrolling metal vine work. Sooo cool

The body itself was metal squares all beautifully aged into a fantastic patina. But how was I going to get this thing home to my new garden, the one I am making out of recycled materials. Yes, I am aware that stealing in not technically the same as recycling but maybe I could make the owners a deal.

I own a bunch of pigs you know, and a genuine miniature donkey, and a turkey who stalks me day and night that I would REALLY like to get rid of. 

So I went up to the gate.

Hmmmm, now that I look at it, this thing reminds me of...of...YEAH ! The gate at Graceland. I don't do country (yes, that's what I said I don't do country, I do Bad Company, Supertramp and lately some fine Adele but not country, OK I do folk but thats not the same. Folk artists don't whine.) Yup, all this gate needed was a couple of huge musical notes. So back to finding the owner of the big planter device.

Problem was, I couldn't find a doorbell or even a man made knocker. I mean a door of this size should have pretty big knocker shouldn't it? (That will be enough out of you Frau Blucker) I looked from this angle...

And I looked close up.

No knocker, so I guess the mystery vase stays in Chicago , on Ohio street in the West Town neighborhood. Sure would love to know the history of this piece. Anyone ? Anyone?

In the meantime I just ask around the neighborhood. There was more than one fine entryway in this neighborhood.

Bye Bye Big Tank

Isn't she cute all shiny and petite like? No, not the farmer on the right, I'm talking about the new (old) milk tank. As we continue to downsize our farm and work towards the goal of living on much less, we started with the dairy. Currently milking 12 cows with a goal of milking only 5 by June, we no longer needed the big tank we had when we were milking over 20 cows a day. (We've always been a small dairy farm, now we are just smaller still)

The tank above was our first milk tank when we started the dairy in 1999. Then we outgrew it as we sold more and more milk to Foremost, losing more and more money. We had cows, we had milk but we had no control over what we were paid for our milk. Some years as low as $10 cwt (for every HUNDRED pounds of milk.)  In the good years it rose as high as $17 cwt. We still lost money as price of feed always ran ahead of price paid for milk.

So the small tank went out in the yard. For years I wanted hubby to get rid of it , sell it, just get it off the farm. But he held tight to it. Used it to store grain. Worked well for that. Sort of like he always knew we'd need it again one day.

Then two years ago in April we went rogue and stopped selling to Foremost and started selling only direct to customers. Today we charge just $5 a gallon for raw, certified organic, 100% grass fed milk meaning we receive approx. $62 cwt. (Based on the fact that a gallon of milk weighs about 8 pounds)  We make a small profit after paying for all our organic hay and bedding. Leftovers are fed to pigs which also give us a fair profit as long as you don't figure out what you are paid hourly :)

But, it all takes time, precious time that the two of us cannot create out of thin air. Yes, we have tried.

So, as we cut back, we have less milk and need less space to store it. So out with the huge tank that took up 2/3 of our milk room above and in with the old, now new again tank. It took a couple weeks at the electricians shop to get up and going again but here it is...up and going.

And just LOOK at all that room our milk customers have for their coolers, their kids, their mother-in-laws and whoever else is wonderful enough to help them get the raw milk they want so badly.

Thank you honey for holding on to the small milk tank. I never should have doubted you. Wish I could say it will never happen again but we both know who we're dealing with here.

Sophies Choice

Mama's Boy

We started raising Red Wattle hogs three years ago. Still listed by the American Livestock Breed Conservancy as "Critically Endangered" we thought we'd like to do our part to increase their numbers. To date there are still less than 2000 of them in the entire world.

Of those 2000, South Pork Ranch is home to 17 of the gentle giants. They are cool pigs, but we have found some of the females to be on the quirky side.

Sophie is one of the quirky ones. Her first litter produced 10 wonderful babes and just one died a few days after farrowing. She was a great mother to the remaining group. Her second farrowing went differently. She had another beautiful litter and all went well until day three when mysteriously...all but one remained.

Her story was flimsy. Granted Sasquatch has been filmed in some parts of the Northwest but not so much in central Illinois. Tracks of the mighty half man, half gorilla were not found near her hutch, unless the hairy beast has taken to wearing rubber boots, the only tracks found anywhere near Sophie's house of ill repute. Hey ! If you suddenly "lose" a group of piglets your home becomes ill-reputed in my eyes. I'm judgemental that way.

Sophie, too busy scratching herself to answer
questions about her missing piglets

So, the case grows cold in front of our very eyes as Sophie focused all her motherly love on one spoiled mamma's boy. Yes, just one male remained and having every single one of Sophie's teats to himself, he has grown fat and sassy since his arrival 4 weeks ago. He also has all the makings for good breeding stock so we left him uncastrated. Oddly just a few days later we got a phone call from a farmer IN NEED of another Red Wattle Boar.

Two wattles, Nice ears, all good reasons
for letting this Baby Red Wattle
keep his pigjigglies.

SOLD. Baby boy will go to his new owner in a few weeks after he is weaned.

So , now we have that tough decision to make. Sophie has had one good litter where she proved herself well. Followed by another litter where several piglets are still unaccounted for. Did she consume them out of boredom? Sell them on the black Red Wattle market and pocket the cash for herself? Do we believe her far fetched Sasquatch fable and give her another chance or do we make her into one large batch of cheddar brats?

Decisions...decisions...

Saponification Sunday

I am home. Wasn't gone long. Didn't go far but home feels good. And speaking about things that feel BAD !

Hotel soap is bad. Of course staying at the Ramada for 50 clams, one is lucky to get any soap but still...I remember the old days when I would be either attending nursing conferences or in my heyday, speaking at nursing conferences (cancer pain control) I was very thrilled to be put up in a hotel.

Rose Soap in Mold

I come from family that slept in the back seat of the wood sided station wagon on road trips, there was no fancy dancy motel, let alone a HOTEL. Nope, the folks took turns driving and we kids took turns fighting over who got to sleep on the back seat VS the floor of the back seat. So, I was well into my 30's before I learned about the word concierge.

And when I got to those fine hotels I am just a tad embarrassed to tell you, I stuffed all the hotel soap and shampoo and conditioner in my paper bag, I mean Samsonite, that I could fit. No, I never took towels...that would be stealing.

Rose Soap sitting in Rescued Miter Box

Yesterday was the first time I DID NOT want to take home any soaps. I did not even want to use them and was kicking myself all over the place singing "we will we will rock you", never mind, I was just upset for not remembering to bring along some of my own soap.

My skin has been paying for it all day. Dry and tight, not the extra firming wasn't a little welcome, but when my eyes starting bulging out and running into my bangs, I knew the soap had tightened my skin over the limit. So as soon as I got home I threw some of my homemade soap into the travel kits I keep stocked at all times. Because you never know when Aer Lingus is going to call and say "You just won a free trip to Galway leaving tonight ! Grab your Bags," that's why.

Rose Soap Tower

This weeks soap was a special order from my sister Peg who asked for "something in a rose please." So I colored with a tiny bit of pink french clay and scented with geranium rose EO. I left it in the frig for 3 days and then cut it on day 8. Not because that was the plan mind you, I just got distracted with farm frolics. It cut great. Smells like a spring garden and I believe the seester will approve. My first shabby chic soap.

Random Rooster painted during
my rooster period

I also mailed soap to several followers this week who had helped me name my beer soap from last week. It is a blast to go into the Chatsworth post and mail off packages to France, Spain, California, Canada and the best one of all METAMORA ! I feel so wordly. Imagine how I would feel if I actually visited those places?

I'd feel broke.

Rose Soap On Bottom Of Miter Box.

Now, all my antique blog friends out there, listen up.  What is your opinion on my new soap cutter? I found this wooden miter box at a resale shop in El Paso, Illinois. The original price was $2 but they were having a clearance sale that day so I paid only TEN CENTS ! Tell me your opinion.

Rose Soap that needs a more creative
name than Rose Soap but no, not via
a contest as you people
are sucking me dry of soap.

 How old? Any value? Shall I keep cutting soap or give it to my son to list it on his EBAY store.? You know your opinions mean the world to me, unless of course you disagree with me.

Miter Box Side. Rose Soap MIA. And how
exactly does a rabbet cut wood anyway?