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

Burren Blues

                   A year ago, at this time, I was here

An area of Ireland known as the Burren. Most folks there pronounce it as one syllable "Burn", It is in the West, the best part of Ireland as far as I am concerned. The least populated, I find its beauty awesomely breathtaking and you should know, I do not use that word "awesome" carelessly or frequently.  Driving through it is a waste of time, you must walk it. Or even better, ride through it on a sure footed Connemara pony and you'll see and smell its true essence.

Kilmacduogh Castle with the O'Shaughnessy Chapel on the left
No, I will inherit none of it but I love to hang out here

Did that riding thing with several of my good buddies last year. The view cannot really be described and because I forgot my camera that day, the view is buried deep in my foggy grey matter to come spilling out in my end stage death bed rambling I'm sure. Well...what are death beds for ?

It the Burren's midst is a tiny establishment, The Burren Perfumery. A one lane gravel road leads to it and just when you think the small signage was wrong several stone buildings appear. Walking in you are flooded with the smells of the all wonderful creations made from the flowers and fauna of the Burren wrapped up neatly in soaps, creams and of course perfumes.

So these memories make me sad as I am not there but look ! I am here. And here right now in Central Illinois it is sunny and warm and the animals are enjoying the pastures. Best of all, I have the house to myself (utter joy) so I will look forward to visiting the Burren again and be thankful for what I have now...just enough 12 year Jamison in the bottle to make one more hot toddy this eve. after all my work is done.

There is more than one way to honor the Burren you know.

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.

Family Schamily

Just came home from our annual fall family gathering where we gather at State Farm Park in Bloomington Illinois to eat and greet. I am the oldest of 6 kids. One died in childhood but the rest of us went on to terrorize our neighbors, co-workers and best of all, each other.

I have no pictures of said event as I MADE myself leave the camera at home. It interferes at times with real communication and observation. Beside with other 6000 pics on my computer at this moment I think a few missed shots won't matter.

We grill several pounds of meat, share salads, desserts, drinks and then play miniature golf, volleyball, and basketball.

We stink as a whole at most of the sports which makes it all the more entertaining. About half of us are under 20 and the rest are over 40. A couple of stragglers fall in between. The old mock the young and the young step over the old when we fall down attempting to do something ridiculous like serving the volleyball.

Each year I am reminded how fortunate I am to have such a family. The five of us siblings have reproduced or married into a total of 13 children. One of those now has 3 children (my grand kids), soon a nephew will leave for the Marines and so it goes. Families expand and grow and sometimes move away. At our gatherings there really is no forbidden topics of conversation. We DO talk about religion (we have Christians, atheists, agnostics and those still undecided) and politics, (most of us are strongly conservative and at least mildly so) and we discuss finance, world peace and why the cheap hot dogs can be very good when enough sauerkraut and ketchup is slathered upon them.

At the end of the day I drive home while two GK's and one hard working farmer husband fall asleep leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Never a good thing.

The perfect end to a perfect day is revealed in my kitchen window. I hope your weekend was super as well.

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.