For Sale by Owner (We hope)

My tack shed. Yes, it is for sale too. Would make a great mother-in-law
apartment don't you think?

So we told our realtor Ba-Bye being as it didn't seem he understood what it was we were trying to do. Basically..SELL THE FARM!!

So now what? Well we still want to sell the farm and the business and the farm business and yeah selling the house along with it all would be good too. Enter FSBO the newest craze in all the land.

We talked to others who have gone this route and then I chatted with our attorney. Seems when we add up the cost of FSBO plus the lawyers fees we will still be spending about $21,000 LESS than if we sell the house through a realtor.

Thus, a good part of my day was reading complaints and complements(through the better business bureau)  about the FSBO business located in Chicago, talking to our attorney and working on our listing. I also cleaned a few rooms (barely) and took pictures for both the FSBO site as well as the Farm Blog site I did a few months ago. You can find the new pics here. http://certifiedorganicfarm.blogspot.com/  Even one of our bedroom. Oh go on. You know you want to. Everybody likes to snoop at other people's houses.  Tomorrow I might even post pics of our bathroom, once I empty the overflowing trash and the wash the juice splotches off the wall by the toilet. Don't ask.

Why you ask and if you are new to my blog you are entitled to ask, are you selling your farm? Because we want a simpler life. We want a tiny house and just enough animals and garden space to grow our own food. But first we have to get through the complicated mess of selling our organic farm business.

Simple is not as easy as it looks.

Status Report

Way way too tired to blog tonight so instead I am going to cheat and refer you to the farm blog I started when we put the farm up for sale a couple of months ago. I've done more work on it, then asked my Facebook friends to share with their contacts. (And they told two friends and they told two friends)
By the end of the day yesterday I had over 500 page views, even though it still needs work. Thank you everyone ! Of those 500 there must be someone who really wants to own and run an organic farm. I just know there is.

In the meantime, if you did not do this already as my FB friend would you consider sharing this link on your own blog?  I promise if you ever need me to promote another blog of yours I will do the very same thing for you.

YOU are the best.  No, YOU are..NO, YOUUU are .http://certifiedorganicfarm.blogspot.com/

When Harry met Sally...the farm adaptation.

Several weeks ago we arranged for a trade. "You give me a fine looking virile young man and I will give you the same" we said to the other party. Dates and places were agreed upon. Soon one of our Red Wattle boars, whose blood line was just fine, thank you very much, but too well known among the female RW's at South Pork Ranch, was traded to another team.
His replacement was named Wally and we liked him immediately. Heralding from Wickham Farms in Iowa  http://wickhamfarm.blogspot.com/2011/10/apple-time.html He was not quite a year old but  shaping up nicely. I especially loved the fiery gold strands in his body hair. What red blooded female wouldn't?  After allowing him some time to adapt to us and his new digs we sweetened his life even more by introducing him to a young RW girl named Sophie. Sophie is of the Kiss My Grass Farm fame (now on hiatus, the farm not Sophie)

At first they were not impressed with each other. He said she had a picky way of ordering her food in a restaurant. She said he ate like a slobbering, drooling, grain mashing, flatulating, grunting pig.

Wally left, Sophie right.

Over time, and realizing that there were not that many other RW's in the farm yard to select genetic material from, they agreed to a casual friendship, a date now and then, the occasional shared trough of soured milk.  It was not immediate but after a few more weeks, they began to look to the future.

With the camera woman holding a bucket of raw milk, "looking to the future"
 became piglets play.

     Personal displays of affection were witnessed and the clock was set ahead to three months, three weeks, three days, three hours and three minutes.

Sophie began taking long extended naps, even in the middle of the day.

Protective Wally left,  Gestating Sophie right.



You'd nap often too if you had 8-12 infants on the way.

A Hawks Eye View

In 2007 an aerial view was taken of our farm and in a weak moment when the company responsible came knocking on the door, I bought the photo. Dang things are not cheap ! My husbands birthday was coming up so out came the checkbook. Fortunately he was worth it. Looking at it now, I am disturbed ( we could just leave it at that but I won't) by the debris in the farm yard. Seems pilots take photos, just like company seem to drop by...whenever the dishes or in this case...the silage tunnels, have not been put away.

Main livestock barn upper left. Machine shed and shop in the middle.
 Little white blob in the garden, right side 2/3 of the way down...me napping

Since the photo was taken 5 years ago, many of the junk piles are gone, a few new piles have taken their place, but overall the farm is much tidier. Now that our farm has been listed for sale for 3 months with no lookers I thought I needed to get busy with promoting its sale so I started with this pic. After all it was just hanging on the wall gathering another web I might as well make it earn its keep.

I pulled up the web site I started 3 months ago and went to work. Still several hours of work to go but it looks and reads much better. Do me a favor and check it out will you ? Leave some comments on those pages directly or on this post if you prefer. http://certifiedorganicfarm.blogspot.com/

Then if each of you could forward the site to just 1000 of your closest friends I am sure we will be able to connect with that one person, that one family, that one small company or town that is dying to invest in a small organic farm. I knew I could count on your guys. You're the best.

Tomorrow I make soap. This work work work stuff is ridiculous.

Buckwheat ? Dat You ?

Why yes it is, Buckwheat honey is spilling all over the place hear on South Pork Ranch. I wasn't home while the Midlife Farm-man (see, it doesn't rhyme, that is why I won't use it again) and the GK's harvested some long awaited for Buckwheat honey, the tall darkly sweet stranger of the honey world.

I love this years crop, its all mysterious looking and because it is deemed "rare" I covet it all the more. Seems farmers don't plant buckwheat as a green cover crop like they used to so bees have no way to utilize the flower they love the most. But one of our hives is just 1/3 of a mile from our neighbors buckwheat field so strange dark stuff...WELCOME.

I was surprised at how much the Gk's liked it as it does have a distinct flavor. I do believe though when it comes to kids, anything they are involved in cooking, baking, milking, harvesting makes all the difference in what they will eat, or at least try.

Ignorant glut that I am,  I was unaware that buckwheat honey is full of fabulous things such as antioxidants, even more than oranges and strawberries. It has also been used recently in several controlled trials as a cough suppressant in children under the age of 6. Seems is soothes irritated bronchial tissue and its viscosity makes it last longer than over the counter syrups. With none of the side effects of dextramorphan. often prescribed for annoying coughs, physicians are now encouraging moms to keep RAW buckwheat honey in their cupboards. Always check with your MD before giving any honey to a child under the age of 1. Opinions vary

My very favorite Buckwheat

This purple- black queen bee is also full of vitamins and minerals which make it healthier to slather on your wee ones pancakes and french toast then the average corn syrup concoctions. It will last forever in your cabinets and if it gets cold and crystallizes just plop it in some hot water. Buckwheat honey can be hard to find and expensive but you'll be happy to know we have a limited supply here right now in our farm store. Same price as our regular honey cause the bees told us it was no extra trouble really. The supply is limited as the GK's consumed a fair amount while "assisting" with the bottling process.

Good help...hard to find.


P.S. Please do send me hate email about my choice of google pics. Some of my very best friends wore afros in the 70's , myself included.

The More The Scarier

Farm tours, I'm talking about farm tours. Keith and I have always enjoyed showing folks our farm for all the reasons I talked about on yesterdays post but tours can be scary...scary in the eyes of the insurance carrier beholder that is.

When our farm products and offerings began to expand about three years ago we thought giving regular tours and charging for them would be easy enough way to pull in some more income.  Before moving forward I, the wet blanket of many an adventure, decided to ask our insurance agent about liability. I specifically wanted to know what would be covered under our home owners policy.

A friend of mine and her son who are at the top of my list for "Most Excellent Farm Visitors"

Basically, nothing would be covered.

Well, nothing would be covered if we CHARGED a fee for the tour because that would bump us into the world of "agri-tourism." Elevating ourselves to that height would require a separate and more expensive agri-tourism policy. Turns out once you charge for something you bear the brunt of liability.

 Facts are: tours take time and time spent doing tours is time taken away from other farm chores. Its hard for some folks, especially urban dwellers to understand the amount of work needed to tend a farm. Thus we ask folks to schedule a tour as we cannot always stop what we are doing to show people around.

So, instead we do not charge for tours but we tell folks that donations are happily accepted. We also happily accept purchases out of our farm store. In the last 5 years I can only think of one, maybe two (does family count?) groups who came for a tour and did not leave a donation. Probably because we didn't tell them one would be , once again, happily accepted.

Most folks are very pleased to contribute a small amount.

Our, oh OK, MY biggest concern is with the parents who bring the kids for a tour and take little responsibility for them. This is rare but even after I do my little dog and donkey show about electric fences (they hurt), animals in heat (they bite), tractors (no you may not turn it on and drive it) we still get folks who glare at me when I tell their children, politely; "Stop swinging the turkey around by its neck you little heathen !!" I meant to say "Heather", really I did.

But for the other 99.9% we are very willing to show them how we do things on this farm. We love telling the story of the nearly extinct Red Wattle hogs, the dairy cows that live 3-4 X's as long as feed lot cows, eggs that are laid in straw by hens they move freely in and out of the chicken house instead of living their entire short lives in a 2 foot square cage. So many wee ones have never seen farm animals up close let alone have the opportunity to actually touch and feed one. Their eyes light up, they giggle, they take pictures.

Their kids are pretty thrilled as well.

Through (other peoples) Rose Colored Glasses




The Morning Glory: An invasive weed or the foundation of a beautiful garden ?

 This evening a wonderful thing happened. We got to see our farm through someone else's eyes. Its amazing when it happens and seems to always happen when we need it most.

A young family, mom, dad and three kids almost exactly the same age as our own GK's came for a farm tour this afternoon. They live on the north side of Chicago and drove 2  1/2 hours to see us. The youngest, a girl, was immediately taken in by the sounds and smells that make up our farm. Without hesitation she befriended our huge dog, walked up to calves for a good look and asked numerous questions about the flight patterns and eating habits of our ducks.

The parents were equally inquisitive about the raising of our animals, and were as amazed to see baby pigs running freely across our pastures as were their offspring. The middle brother held 4 day old chicks as gently and with as much awe as if if were holding a precious glass figurine worth millions.

They admired our large mama hog in her mud puddle as well as her lover boy mate frothing at the mouth since it was that time of the season. Each of the kids collected as many wayward peacock and chicken feathers as they could find gazing on them as impressive art instead of just the same old feathers we walk over every day

And if all that was not enough they purchased a large amount of meat from our store and ordered a 1/4 beef for the future. Then they thanked us for all the hard work we do. Its folks like that which make it so much easier to get up in the morning and do it all over again.

Many thanks to the M. family. You have no idea how much your visit meant to US.

Gladiator !!

Yup, that's how I feel right now. As happy as Liz Taylor the night she announced the Golden Globe Awards for Gladiator. Lately my posts have been laden with despondency. melancholia, dolefulness (yes, I had to look those up) so it is high time I shared some good news.

Met with our realtor yesterday regarding our farm listing. No, it has not yet been sold. Yes it is still for sale. There is no real good (or bad) news with that announcement I just thought I'd throw it in there. I am going to take things into my own hands though and strap one of those big sandwich signs on my torso and strut around the county.

I will be naked underneath

I expect it will be no time at all before someone will make a decent offer on the farm just to ensure our very quick departure. In other news, I am now the proud owner of my 100th follower ! I'll keep her name private since she did not know I was running a contest (in my head, where most of my contests are run) nor did she know she would win a prize. As soon as I can convince her I am not just an ordinary blog stalker, I am an extreme blog stalker, I'll gain her trust, obtain her address and send her a modest prize.

Speaking of The Post, I finished wrapping up a little item going to place called Trelawnyd. Don't you love a mystery ?  Actually I do not. I prefer chic lit that is on the edgy side, that's if I had to pick a genre but who wants to be pigeonholed ? The GK's had a good time looking up this far away place. It was nice to spend the day doing pleasant things rather than the usual piglet evisceration activities.

What's that ? How is the writing going ? Well, thank you for asking. Every night this week while Keith did the outside chores I hid away in my library-slash-kids room-writing-studio. It was his idea, due in fact to fatigue on his part from hearing me whine about not having time to write. I am happy to announce much was accomplished in way of the rewrite of my first novel and much still needs to be done. But I am on a roll and determined to have ready for an agent by Christmas. If you are keeping track (really WHY would you?) this is my 5th goal regarding the completion of this novel.

Blog news. I did decide to venture forth with the syndication of my blog on http://beforeitsnews.com/story/1189/084/Has_anyone_seen_my_Buffer_Zone.html  They will  automatically pick up each post from this blog and broadcast who knows where. My posts will be in their self sufficiency section which not coincidentally is the topic of my article for today's Renegade Farmer Issue. (Two paragraphs down please) You might think I am doing this just for attention and recognition. Well comrade, you are correct. Seriously, to write well I must keep writing. Paid, unpaid, right now I am open to all experiences that will help me craft my hone.

More blog news. I voluntarily committed myself to  http://nablowrimo.blogspot.com/  The task at hand is to post on your blog every single day for the month of October. (light goes on huh ?) This will be my 8th post in 8 days. Criteria met, so far. Just another way to keep writing while at the same time meeting a deadline.

Finally, The Renegade Farmer is up and running again. A fantastic farm oriented e-zine the editor Zan Asha has done a fabulous job of shifting it all over to Blogger. I will be posting articles on Saturdays and am determined NOT to repeat what I have written here. So far I am 1/1. My article about self-sufficiency is here http://www.therenegadefarmer.com/  If you get a moment to pop over there and make a comment I know Zan would appreciate it. Be sure to read up on all the other fine writers/farmers as well.

                               Say goodnight Gracie.

The Life and Death of Piglet

Spots litter of 10 day old piglets

Real farming is not always real pretty. It takes a hard heart some times.

Yesterday we set about the task of castrating piglets again a small group of cross breds. Don't worry, no pics of such this time.  Their mama Spot is our Guard Pig. If she sees trouble such as in a car she does not know she perks up her huge ears and runs along the fence snorting. She is long lean and big, also a great mother.

Her litter was spotted like she is and red like their Red Wattle papa Mad Max. We call these offspring our Spotted Wattles. We had three males of her litter to castrate so Keith loaded mama into the livestock trailer with the lure of milk soaked grain, sort of a Captain Crunch with cream combo. Once locked in and doors welded shut (if any of our mama pigs were to remove our limbs for fear of her babies safety, Spot would be the one with human blood on her breath) Keith gathered up the babes.

Settled in the machine shed with doors closed so mama can't heat baby squeals, Keith sat with the first male in his lap but something was amiss. Instead of two little round lumps where the testicles should be this one had three. All were very close to each other and down low. Keith suggested a hernia might be responsible for the third little bulge. I palpated and with no obvious discomfort on piglet we were hopeful he had three testicles, instead of two and a hernia,  sort of like a triple yoker in an egg.

I took aim at the lowest bulge sure it had to be the little gonad and cut. Immediately little pink red loops of bowel came spilling out. I don't swear often, I like to save it for special occasions. This was indeed "special"
In a few seconds Keith and I knew what had to be done and he swiftly euthanized the boy with a whack to the head.

This is why I love my husband.

I could have done it if he wasn't at home. I hate the idea of animals suffering for no good reason. But he was home and he did it very fast. And like any good code team we reviewed our actions looking for opportunities for improvement. What could we have done differently ? Probably nothing, if we'd taken it to the vet he might have repaired the hernia and done the castration in his office but it would be unlikely it could be returned to its mama any time soon, and baby pigs do not often survive being away from their mothers at such a young age. In addition the cost would be more than the pig's value. Sounds harsh but if we kept every animal around for pets we'd be broke. One of those facts of farming.

The other option would have been to have let it alone and grow to market size. We have enough boar meat in our freezer now to meet our own needs for the next years and only a handful of customers who want boar meet so not needed in that regard. We could have raised it to market size and just taken to the sale barn where we would've gotten enough enough to cover our feed costs, not our labor and time costs.

So in retrospect I think we made the right decision but still, I hate those kind of days on our farm
. Hate them.

Lovin' that Junk Man

Hmmm. What is that farmer up to now ? That isn't hay at the end of that hay fork on his tractor.  What could it possibly be ?

I put the camera down and I look closer. My heart is racing, hopeful, anticipating the possibility that maybe...just perhaps...oh Mother of Abraham Lincoln it is ...JUNK. ! Glorious junk going baa bye.

For some time now we've had a beaten up dumpster on our property collecting...collectibles. The struggle to fill the beast is just that, a struggle. What the Midlife Farmwife sees as junk, the "Use-it-up-wear-it-out" Farmer sees as potential. It took several years for me to get him to agree to having a dumpster on our property. "Why ?" he pondered and then finally he caved.

He caved about the same time I threatened to let him sleep with his" potential" instead of with me. The sad part was he actually took a few days to weigh the pros and cons. When he gave in a dumpster was rented and delivered that over time became junk itself. The dumpsters owner brought us a new one a couple of mnths ago and somehow the two of them there junkmen decided the old dumpster could stay.

You can imagine my utter joy at that decision.

Husband promised the bad dumpster would be used to gather everything that could go to the steel recycling plant and over the summer he has kept his promise (and his softer bed partner) and now the crappy dumpster has gone the way of recycleville. Keith hoped to get $40-$50. Instead he got over $100

You watch, tomorrow I'll wake up and there will be five dumpsters in our farm yard. So much for natural consequences.

Has anyone seen my Buffer Zone?

On organic farms we are required to have a "Buffer Zone" which is a strip of land between your organic fields and your neighbors (or your own ) non-organic fields. The organic standards do not state a specific width for this buffer zone but they will tell you that approximately 25 feet is adequate in most situations.

For example, if my non-organic neighbor owned a conventional farm with 3000 cows, yes we do have some that large in Illinois, my Buffer Zone would need to be wider in order to filter out the chemicals used on that huge farm which might drain into my organic fields. (I heard that. One more crack about the width of my personal buffer zone and you will be promptly removed from my followers list)

Our milking herd on pasture Oct 4, 2011. One of the reasons our
raw milk tastes like melted ice cream

But our neighbor farmer used to be organic himself so those prohibited substances draining from his field towards ours, is minimal and well filtered by the 25 foot wide strip of land. This buffer zone can not be certified organic however, so any grass on it cannot be used to pasture our herd nor can it be cut and baled for winter feeding EXCEPT to our non-organic animals.

Buffer Zone Bales of Hay ready for Barn Segregation

Wait ! What ? How can we have non-organic animals on an organic farm ? Well, we do because a few of our animals are never raised to provide products to others. So when we fill out our organic application we just list which animals we want certified organic and which we do not. Take Doolin for example, our goofy Equus Asinus, (Oh man, I think I just stumbled across a new nickname for some of our more stubborn family members.) that hunk of hide will never be made into jerky for our farm store, even though I have threatened him with that end result a few times.  HE can eat buffer zone hay as can his two other horsey friends.

I call this "Green Hay Against Blue Sky"
an original Midlife Farmwife Composition
8x10 prints just $39.95 includes shipping

So the buffer zone hay is baled and stacked on a rack which must be blown clean of all non-organic hay left over from the last person who used the hay rack. This "blowing clean" must be documented on our Cleaning Log. (Those of you mulling around inappropriate comments involving the phrase "blowing clean"...need to pick up the phone, your High School is calling.) This hay is then stored in our barn AWAY from any organic hay. This buffer zone hay must be labeled as such so it does not get accidentally fed to our organic cows, steers and pigs.

I call this "Prairie Shame"
Male Peacock loses all tail feathers at end of season.
Feels as ugly as hay
8 x10 print On sale for just $ 39.90 includes shipping

 So once again the complexities of organic certification made a little clearer. I hope

You say MOSA, I say MOO-SA

After much ado about something, another  inspection has come and gone and we remain very truly yours...certified organic for another year. Yes, I stressed a little. It is my calling and my husbands cross to bear. Someone must worry about all the little stuff or that last bolt will not get screwed into the bridge project on Rt 24 in Forrest and civilization as we know it...will come a fallin' down.

So we are three for three, organic inspections that is. The first year was the worst, weather speaking. Cold and rainy our elderly inspector left no blade of grass unturned. The process lasted ALL day and he ran us over the coals. Still I felt he was fair and that we had indeed earned our certificate.

Last year was another year of not knowing what to expect as we added swine production onto our application which the year before dealt only with land and dairy cows. Our inspector Doug was thorough but very realistic. He shared great ideas from other organic farmers and we came away in good standing. As is my compulsive nature I took notes throughout the day (only about 5 hrs) and was able to use those notes to quiz Keith in prep for this year. Yeah, I heard that. You all are just wishing YOU were the ones married to me are you not ?

Last Friday we had the same inspector as last year. Piece of cake huh ? Well, not so much. Oh, he was fair and reasonable but he focused on a few areas he did not focus on the year before (trickster) and at the end of the inspection, we had THREE areas where he was recommending improvement . I was unhappy (with myself.) I should have KNOWN he would need proof our straw being organic being as that was a new standard as of June 2011. A couple of weeks ago I started looking for that growers organic certificate, I had it but misplaced it and then I forgot all about it. DANG IT ALL THE WAY TO SALLYNOGGIN AND BACK !

In fact, I was so ticked at myself I called a realtor and put the farm up for sale. Oh yes I did. Two months ago I did. Still waiting for that group of young healthy motivated folk to make us an offer. Waiting...waiting...
Be sure to click here if you want to see our bedroom clean for the one and only time this year
http://home.lyonssullivanrealty.com/32796750-NorthCHATSWORTHIllinois/104586/LCBOR

So yes, its true. We need to improve in three standards out of  a total of over 200. If MOSA gave out percentage grades that would put us at about a 98.5. Think I could be satisfied with that ?  Well at the time, no, I was not. Today, I am very thrilled with it and very happy we can get on with the business of farming.
But, as I promised myself last year, I will keep up with the paperwork so there will be no surprises.

                                                        Sure I will.

Frustrated Scupltor

The problem with a public blog is that the public feel they can just make any kind of comment they want. Take for example Mr Cro , as I call him. After my last post

he had the unmitigated gall to say this about my recent soap creations, "You're really a frustrated sculptor, aren't you!" Now why would an individual who has never even met me, say something so personal ?!?

What evidence does he have that I ever wanted to be a sculptor at all ? Did we ever sit together (with spouses of course) in a wee cafe sipping Jamison or Guinness or heaven forbid some cheap red wine and discuss my dreams of artistry ?

Has Mr Magnon, AKA Cro, ever even read that test they give you in HS where they measure your aptitude for future life success based on your favorite colors and foods and desire to organize all your desk pencils by order of eraser size.? I think not

So, where he gets this bare-brained idea that I am a frustrated sculptor want-to-be whose life is empty and unfulfilled since all she does all day is scratch pig ears, boil a little pig lard and call it soap and write a few pages in her soon to be released novel (if you call "soon" about 3 years away)...I just don't know.

Made over one week, pouring several different batters over several
different pieces of old soap or "imbeds" scented with cassia, clove
and orange EO's All colors made with natural plant materils or clays.
I imagine that if Picasso had made soap...
it wouldn't look like this at all.

Meanwhile back at the farm, our MOSA inspection (Midwest Organic Sevices Association) went very well. I can say that now but 24 hrs ago I was a pit of frustration because I could not find two organic certificates needed , one for the straw we bought and one for calves we bought 9 months ago, AND I forgot to write the cow ID number on one of our locker slips.

That means of the over 200 organic standards we must meet, our inspector was writing recommendations for improvement on just 3 of those standards. I should have been giddy with relief over how well we did, No, I was upset with the lack of perfection. Will I ever learn to be satisfied ?!?!?

Today, I feel much better. Might have something to do with the beautiful weather, the family who toured with their 2 year old son who was more delighted with a single peacock feather than I have been all year with all good things that have come my way, and the GK's who are at this moment giggling hysterically over the antic of Mike Myers as Cat in The Hat.

Mike Myers always makes me smile too. I should've asked HIM to be at our inspection yesterday. Might have spared my husband from that grumpy wife he so often deals with. Or at least given him a cat mobile driven by a mouthy fish to escape in.

Soap as the Meaning of Life

In less than 48 hours our MOSA (Midwest Organic Services Association) inspector will be here to do his annual thing...he will inspect us. He will look at our critters, our critter housing, our barns, our feeds, our bedding and all our files/receipts/certifications. He might even notice the wonderful handcrafted soap in our bathroom made with certified organic Red Wattle Lard. Segue to soap starts here...

Made with palm, coconut, olive, canola oils with a spattering of Mango Butter
and several pours of essential  Lavender and Geranium Rose
Smells great but looks like the moon's surface. Indigo and woad powders
are due credit for the bizarre colors.

 We are of course, not ready due to major paperwork procrastination and the lack of extra time I have requested repeatedly. Does anyone listen ? Do I receive even one hour of extra time a day ? I do not.
Yet, warrior that I am, I am in the midst of rifling through piles of paper that should have been organized months ago but was not, convinced I can get it all together before The Man enters the farm. Perhaps if I soaped less...


Same soap, smaller piece next to gifted shell I adore. Obviously the two were
separated at trace. Colors of the sea all for me all for me.

 We have no one to blame but ourselves. We CHOOSE to be certified organic. Eejit farmers for sure.

BUT, I need a break from Livestock Input  Inventory Update  and Farm: Update Organic System Plan Form  (to name just two of the required forms) Therefore, I will post about that which makes me smile, soap. Because the long and short plan of it is, organic inspection paperwork may be necessary, but it does nothing to rev my engine.

Or perhaps the soap and my bathroom tile were once one and the same.
Either way, I kept only half the batch and hot processed/rebatched  the rest.

Working with natural clays, charcoal and Indigo powder however, thrills me endlessly. I blame all you soap nuts out there, especially those like that Cocobong Chick who had the nerve (and generosity) to send me all natural additives to play with. How could I resist ?

This weeks experiment was on the bluesy side, love playing with the blues. So I mixed woad powder with some raw soap and then some indigo with more raw soap and got a really hard and great smelling bar that looked , well, different. I liked it some, then muchly, then against my better judgement I threw half the bars in a crock pot and cooked them like a Sunday roast. Plopped it in the mold and poured some cold process soap on top.

Sort of Funky Wunky huh ? I added some Titanium Dioxide for the white
in the top layer, got some veinage but the charcoal layer in between
was satisfactory. Is it better this way or should I have left it alone?

You decide. I got paperwork to do I told you.

Dirty Women

Did a rare and unusual thing this past weekend, we left home. Packed up our bags (except for the one with all our toiletries which was packed but left ever so inconveniently right there in front of the toaster) and the Gk's, bribed number two son to do chores for 24 hrs and went north...then west...then north.

We landed in the bustling berg of Geneseo, Illinois, home of the painted pig on every corner,  where I met famous woman of a dirty nature. Namely Miss Effie and Miss Amanda and Miss Tammy as well as Miss Tamara and my editor Miss Zan of The Renegade Farmer. Lots of very busy woman who once had corporate jobs or factory jobs or ordinary jobs and now had jobs that were much harder as they were all either cooking and gardening and teaching and bee keeping and soaping and blogging and bow making and doll crafting and spinning and weaving and owning construction businesses and homemaking and child caring and oh my...they were doing it all while being their own bosses at the same time and hopefully making ends meet with self generated income.

And before I go one step farther. Do you know how to tell a really busy self sufficient woman ? Well by her uniform of course. It looks something like this:

Miss Amanda (middle) discussing the pros and cons of Leghorn chicks with Miss Tammy
 and Miss Effie whose real name is Cathy

a beautiful heavy duty grape themed apron and a fabulous pair of equally sturdy chore boots. Anyone can look good in heels, it takes a special gal to look good in rubber Wellies. What a day it was. Keith sat in on Miss Zan's beekeeping class while I toured our host's (Amanda) property and chatted it up with the other dirty gals (this is a definition related to our outdoor work, not our moral status.)

The highlight of the tour was this extraordinary building. I fantasized about it being a writers hideout  complete with padlocked doors but apparently it is meant instead to smoke meats on the top level

                                  
                              and store roots attached to veggies, on the bottom level.

Testosterone man Jason and husband to Amanda, HAND DUG the entire root cellar portion of the building, WHY ? Because he could that's why. Its the same reason my own husband carries new born, 100 pound  calves through the fields and up to the barn when he could drive the truck or tractor out to rescue them in bad weather. Because he can.

And they say women are illogical.

After our dirty women gab fest, and sharing of marketing ideas, product production, business plans etc ...etc...we promised to get together more often . Even if, in the case of Zan Asha, it would mean a trip to New York city where this ultra creative woman cares for 7 bee hives on her roof top. Not only is she the Queen Bee of her urban neighborhood she also creates special fairy dolls and kittenfish. Yes, kitten fish. I love her website for the music as much as for the creativity. Listen for yourselves http://vagabondcreations.blogspot.com/   Oh yeah, she also edits the Renegade Farmer E-Zine.

Zan is the tall, youthful one on the left. I'm the un-tall, been around the block
backwards more than once on a two wheeled tricycle, one on the right.

I think  my next road trip (as a warm up to NY) will be to Miss Effies U-Pick Flower Farm owned and run by Cathy Lafrenze, and featured in Midwest Living not so long ago.This hardy chick and I hit it off right away. We're both on the edgy side, the edgy MATURE side. And we both admitted neither of us care about our hair anymore or housework. We do however care about how our barns appear to the general public. Check out her entrepreneur style right here right now
http://www.misseffiesflowers.com/

Cool huh ? What was that ? You have tiny ones at home and can't possibly start your own business ? Don't be throwing those words around Miss Amanda,  an accomplished soaper and the founder of http://www.mymommyscreations.com/   My GK Allana went nuts when she saw what was available to dress up little girls hair and could not be torn away from the turtle bow she brought home with her that day. She wore it up until bath time last night and put it right back in her hair for school this am. The best thing about that bow ? Yes its real cute, but best of all...IT STAYS IN THE KIDS HAIR !!

In addition, her prices are a real steal for the quality of hair bow you are getting. Order now before she too gets discovered by Parent magazine or someone else who will buy her company for the 1/2 million it is worth.

So there it was, my "restful" weekend with hard working woman. I left to go on a mini-vacation and came back with great ideas for making an even better living with homemade, home raised, home loved,  products.

Lucky me.

                                

Shower me with Calendula

It doesn't take all that much to make me happy.

One day I'll be able to say that without hearing all the jeering behind me. In the meantime I practice on the joyful thing by taking showers because showers my friend...make me happy. Oh they've always amused me or maybe the really good ones, you know...not too hot not too cold, even made me smile slightly but I always saw them as just utilitarian, something one had to do. And often I was too busy thinking about the next step such as,  "I suppose the last person left the towel in a big wad and I'm going to have to dry off with moldy dampness again..." to fully enjoy the shower experience, But then, I began making soap . Now 9 months into the craft, I am also much more into my showers.

Will my soap suds up really well ? Will it be a bubbly or creamy lather or even better, a little of both ? Will the scent still be present ? Will the slight amount of coffee grounds give me the perfect amount of exfoliation on my pony feet or will I emerge from my shower as I did at age 12, the first time after I shaved my legs, jagged bloody gashes streaking up both my legs ?

Recently though, the shower thing has been even more perfect due to my new soap interest, Calendula Gal. I call her Callie. She looks like this

I created her a few weeks ago from a concoction of Olive, Babasu, and  Rice Bran Oils along with Red Wattle Lard, Calendula petals, Titanium Dioxide and an essential oil mix of Orange, Blood Orange, Clary sage and Lavender. The lather is fabulous and wild and crazy and unrelenting. It smells great too, all sweetness and light but not too much so. And the scent over the weeks has not lessened one bit. Is it the TD ? The plant material ? The olfactory faeries in my head ?

Doesn't matter. Some miracles just can't be rationalized with science. There is no rationalizing the horrible cut job on theses babies either. Not too hard to tell these are handmade is it ? I don't own a real mold or a real cutter so I make do with an empty baby wipe container and a knife. Usually I can eyeball it pretty well and sometimes I even use Keith 's miter box for more even cuts, but not with this loaf. Nope. I just hacked at it and then tried to pretty it up with some edge beveling.

The rose is till blooming nicely even though the nights are getting cool and I used it in this shot as it slightly detracts from the bumps, holes and chips of my soap. It is that same theory that causes me to wear earrings whenever I go out in public. Distraction from the bumps, holes and chips is always a good thing. 

When the flaws are especially evident the larger rose (AKA dangling earrings)  is best. So there it is, my far from perfect soap that I am really liking.

Hmmmm. Thats a lot of romantic talk about a bar of soap. I think it might be time to start hanging out with real people again. If I could just get them to take my calls...

Stupid is as Ridiculously Slow and Stupid Does

First, ( and always it seems lately ) MY APOLOGIES.  In the back of my head someone nominated me for something again. A few weeks ago I believe. For something well done possibly or could have been a mediocre nomination, which is more appropriate. Please forgive me for not publically recognizing it when it happened. I genuinely appreciate these sweet things you sayeth to me. So, looking unsuccessfully through past comments for this nomination for something somewhere I noticed something else.

On Sept 16, I received my 1000th comment ! It was made by Walter Jeffries whose blog was the very first one I ever started following over 2 years ago. How can you not believe in good Car-Ma, ( You can never get luckier than a Chevy Nova I always said,) Fung Shray, the power of the purple crystal etc...when something like that happens ? Well I don't but still, its fun. Thank you Walter over at Sugar Mountain Farm http://flashweb.com/   Dang it now ! I just hopped over to Walters site and seems he asked me to take a few pics of my rooster art and post on my blog. Missed that request completely. Forgive me Walter. I will do just that.

You know, if I would just get some kind of routine in my life I maybe wouldn't be playing catch-up all the time. I'm telling you the pressure of the blogging world are mind numbing. And speaking of syndication...
I received an email two days ago from a website known as "Before Its News" http://beforeitsnews.com/
inviting me to have my blog syndicated and available on their site under the self-sufficiency section.

Being the limelight hog I can be (what self-respecting, Irish writer isn't?) I was flattered. I am also highly suspicious. Reminds me of those "Whose Who is Whatever" books you get invited to be published in after you pay $39.95 for the book of course. At least this web site did not ask me for any money.

Did they ask you for any money to have my blog syndicated ? I mean we all are very close you know and the folks at Before Its News might take advantage of our friendship by asking you for handouts. And you being kind, gentle, generous folk might send money just for the sake of said blog friendship. Oh how I would hate to see you get ripped off.

So lets do this. Lets just skip this middle guy.gal.potential web thief and you can send the money directly to me. Sure, send cash, I happen to think the post office has the highest of morals. That way you can support me the way you want to and I can keep from losing any of my material or brilliant ideas to virtual strangers. Sort of a win-win situation, for me.

Oh relax, I am indeed messing with your heads. Not about the blog syndication part , in fact why don't you check out that site for me and let me know your thoughts?, but I am kidding about the money.

Everyone knows you should never send cash through the mail.  Certified bank checks, however, are always welcome. Speaking of gifts, what do you think Walter would like for making the 1000th comment ? Hmm?

The Little Farm That Could

The hardest thing about being a small farm...is being a small farm. Keith and I are constantly looking at ways to expand/improve/organize/maintain our farm and all its products while remaining financially solvent yet keeping the farm attractive for future buyers and physically able to get up out of bed the next day.

Looking at our farm from a different view point.

I'm not kidding about the bed part. Keith falls asleep HARD, I fall asleep for awhile, wake a while, sleep a while, watch reruns of SOAP for awhile so when it is indeed time to get up I am rarely in the same place in our huge full size bed that I was when it was lights out. Last night was a toss me/turn you night (Just don't) and when I dropped my leg off the side of the bed to get up, I instead slid the whole hippus maximus right off  the mattress that does not need to be 60 inches deep anyway does it ? and slid down to the floor.

Made me mad.

But no one said running a small farm would be easy. For example, Keith and I both would rather be outside providing animal care so we can raise them big, healthy and happy and sell them for a fair price to us, to our restaurants, to our grocery stores and  to private customers. But what is "fair?"  I 'll tell you what FAIR is...FAIR is a huge burdensome, time sucking, brain destroying, Internet searching noun  that cannot be proven or disproven. Don't even get me started on "Fair Trade Coffee" as it seems only depraved old men with donkeys are entitled to "Fair Trade Payment"

Why can't a good, decent, honest, hard working white fellow/gal  get good money for his/her Middle Western Dark Beans?  I said, don't get me started. Thus my frustration. Keith and I have not increased our price of restaurant pork in 3 years. Its way past time. Corn prices are stupid high as is organic straw. So we block out several days to hit the books again (thus my little blogcation) but all our other chores eat into the "free time" and we are not neat as close to coming up with a FAIR price as we want to be.

Right now I am sifting through all our processing receipts, which locker charged us how much for what ? 4 years ago we used 4 lockers then we decreased to 2. Its working well but still I see now all the little details I might want to put in the memo box of a quicken entry. Tidbits like costs of sausage patties VS sausage links. I do understand the importance of tracking ones sausage but I would rather be playing with the newborn sausages in the field.


Even the smallest operations must have the ability to interpret data
otherwise how would we know for sure that mustard is
thicker than cheap syrup?

We easily need a full time secretary/full time herdsman but there is no salary for such.  If I sold lots more hogs in the next few months we might have enough extra for a little tiny secretary on the side. But first we have to figure out all our costs related to raising of the pigs (and later the dairy and the beef and the chickens and the honey and the soap) so we can raise our prices in a Fair Trade manner (don't get me started). We have data but no one to interpret all the data. We have customers, great customers but no one is keeping them well educated and updated, keeping them INTERESTED in the farm, so they will be driven towards future purchases unless they read this blog and some do but it is so ramble ramble sometimes it really cannot be labeled as education.
These are just a few of my favorite things that keep me up at night. Oh and that ridiculous term "Fair Trade"
but please don't get me started.

Chicago...My Kind of Clown.

Its a funny city Chicago is, we never know what kind of hilarity we are going to find on delivery day. For example I find this piglet butt hysterical

I don't know why. Maybe its just the angle, or the voice of Miss Piggy in my head . "Hello ?  Who took my skirt ? Is this any way to treat a lady ? Someone get my agent on the phone NOW!" After all, Keith is working so hard to get down those steps I should be respectful and not giggling behind his back. I can't seem to help it. Tense times does that to me. In Mass my sister and I would get to giggling and we would have to pinch each other to gain some control. Laughing in the middle of the Our Father ? Not good.

Then dad would catch us out of the corner of his eye and he would whack us (not so hard) to get us to stop. But that made us giggle more which made mom really mad and then she would be pinching us to get us to stop and her pinch was no laughing matter. Oh the cycle of abuse. I miss them everyday.

Following the drop off of two roasters and one large whole Red Wattle hog to Old Town Social,
http://www.oldtownsocial.com/   we headed north to In Fine Spirits.

There we delivered about 35 pounds of very fresh boneless pork shoulder. This Italian restaurant and its chef Marianne work so well with us. We do not always have shoulder available all the time, in fact we have to wait until the supply in our farm store is low enough so we can process the rest of the hog (sans shoulder) for individual cuts to go in the store. Good stuff like bacon and chops.

Marianne always  orders when we have it available and ALWAYS makes wonderful comments about our fat cap. As a mature sized woman, it is a real treat to have someone speak well of my fat cap. I cherish those pats on the (fat) back.

I am also grateful for the free advertising she gives us and the other farms she supports.  FRESH healthy food is important to her. So fun to see our farm name in the middle of her "Our Awesome Farms" board in her restaurant, in Neon (chalk) none the less.

With 9 whole minutes left on the parking meter, and we never waste those minutes, we walked into my favorite thrift shop, The Brown Elephant. If you like junk and retro and rehab and recycle and just stuff, you must visit this gem. Once an old Vaudeville theatre it is now in its 9th life selling treasures. Perhaps you are the mood for some lamps

That pair of pink ceramic ones (lower right) calls to me in a Marilyn Monroe sort of throatiness. You too, huh ? I love the front stage part of The Brown Elephant. Can you not see Jimmy Durante and his big banana
twirling his cane ? If you do not know Jimmy then just leave this blog right now you big baby. Speaking of fresh fruit, I forgot to thank Cassie Green at Green Grocer for her order today.

http://www.greengrocerchicago.com/  The only grocery we choose to sell to in Chicago and YES, smarty pants (I learned that term from MBJ) we have had other groceries ask us to supply them. But we only have so much meat so we pick and choose who we will serve just like they pick and choose who they buy from. America, gotta love her.

OK, now all you folks who did not know the Snoz...come back. I need all the followers I can get. In addition to the well lit area at The Brown Elephant, they also have books

And of course, a few bags...(That remark was uncalled for. It was acutely accurate but uncalled for.)

On the way home we stopped in my old neighborhood, Ravenswood, at my favorite Irish Pub (in the US) and had a pint and a Sprite ,which we washed down with some fish and chips.
http://www.oshaughnessychicago.com/    

A grand day all together.