Thursday, January 12, 2012
Bring it On
The beavers were busy yesterday, After weeks of above normal temperatures we were beginning to think winter was delayed permanently but then predictions of snow started coming in for today.
"One inch and winds of 15mph" predicted at 8am yesterday
We did morning chores and started adding extra bedding to animal stalls. I painted the yard sign, yes PAINTED, with directions to the barn, house and farm store. Keith repaired the door to chicken coop and I painted it as well.
"One and 1/2 inches and winds of 20mph" predicted at noon
Keith moved big bales of hay in front Mad Max (top dog hog) and his harem's hogcienda. This will provide wind block and source of food. I burned lots of old trash and wood piles, overfilled the big calves hay feeder.
"One to three inches and winds of 25mph" predicted last evening
Keith moved large barrels of feed to barn to save on walking to machine shed should snow hit. He spread a few loads of manure as well and took small milk tank over to Forrest for repairs.
I planted spring seeds in an old concrete waterer, with a 10 foot diameter no less. I should have put them in months ago, but why? It was 56 degrees yesterday! I caught 6 loose chickens and threw them into chicken yard on my way up to the house.
"Three to Six inches and white out conditions" predicted this am
It's 8am we still need to bed horses, move mower inside garage. (Its had a dead battery for the last month), and move another big bale of hay in front of Red Wattle Wally's stall so he and his girls have wind protection and extra feed. Then we should be "ready"
As I write the sky is white and snow is just starting to blow across the yard. Keith volunteered to do my calf chores this am so I volunteered to make him a big coffee cake for when he comes in for his morning break.
That's how we beavers roll.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Dear Mom...
I am caught between two worlds. I love the technology of the Internet, I am an info junkie, a blog buffoon, a digital photo freak, a Book of Face lover but I hate how those very things have so destroyed real face to face communication.
A nephew of mine recently enlisted in the Marines. He is allowed letters. Period. No twitters or status updates, no blue tooth on his ear. Just letters.
So that is what he is getting from me. My recent ramblings about nothing sent to him 2 and 3 times a week, reminded me how much I loved getting letters from my folks all those years (10) that I lived in South Dakota. They were both excellent letter writers.
So, in their honor, one resolution of mine this year will be more letter writing. It's a soon to be lost art if we don't get busy with our pens.
From our Farm Your Face
Yesterday, was a big meat day here on South Pork Ranch. Three animals left the farm (via the livestock trailer on its way to the Eureka locker) while three returned to the farm via several coolers and assorted cardboard boxes.
Before November 2010, all our meat would go into two freezers in our basement where folks could purchase it through a freindly knock on the back door, but I always imagined 80 year old aunt Rosalinda tumbling down the back steps, so we opened our farm store. It also became inconvenient to crawl out of my evening bath in order to retrieve one pound of liver for a hungry customer.
Now, our meat (after being USDA inspected, labeled and vacuum packed) is sold out of two bartered upright freezers in our little farm store. Considering that meat travels over 1500 miles in the US before it gets to the consumers table we are happy that ours travels only 1/10 that distance. The Eureka locker, the only certified organic locker in Illinois, where we picked up over 1000 pounds of meat yesterday, is just 60 miles from our farm.
So, it goes from us, to them, to us and then to our customers. Farm to Face as we like to say. A really good system, except for the part where we have to put all the meat away in our store.
Frozen meat is how shall I put it?....Cold, yes that's the word I was looking for. It is COLD. It is times like these that we regret allowing our four children the option to grow up and move away. The days of young healthy, free labor were good days indeed.
Meat from our last pickup being stored in the machine shed freezers, is relocated to farm store via the high tech kids wagon. Empty spots are filled. Meat in coolers in the back of the pick up are unloaded and complete the empty shelf filling. Once the freezers are filled, any leftover meat from yesterdays pickup goes in the machine shed freezers.
All meat is hand marked with a lot number so we can track each animal to its own package of burger or bacon. Some of our meat is pre-weighed but some like our beef jerky is not so I had to weigh them and write the lot number on them. Yes, I did try a stamp, but the packages are cold and not flat so writing the lot number by hand works much better. Maybe instead of all the free advice you could show up on meat day and help put some of this stuff away. Hmmmmm?
Meat must be rearranged in the freezer into some sort of order. The method is complex. Beef on the left, pork on the right.
I once tried labeling each shelf with the meat located there but labels get moved or fall off so instead I try to put the meat back in the same area like I did the time before, but then I go and order an entire 1/4 cow made into beef jerky. That is over 100 pounds of jerky or approx. 200 packages of jerky which I forgot to plan for.
So meat is readjusted. And readjusted again. Keith is busy doing chores late since he had to leave early for the locker run. I'm just telling you that so you understand why I am doing all the meat adjusting. Someone has to milk and it ain't me.
Finally all 1000 pounds of meat is put away. We decide this would be a great time to sit down in the kitchen and get caught up with each other over pot of coffee number two. I've been up since 0330 and Keith has been up since shortly after that.
And who do you think shows up at that exact moment? Well the Illinois Department of Agriculture's meat inspector that is who. Seems its time for our annual inspection.
No problem, we give him a fresh cup of coffee and a few beef sticks to chew on while he finishes his paperwork at our kitchen table. Funny how he didn't show up until AFTER all the meat was put away
.
Before November 2010, all our meat would go into two freezers in our basement where folks could purchase it through a freindly knock on the back door, but I always imagined 80 year old aunt Rosalinda tumbling down the back steps, so we opened our farm store. It also became inconvenient to crawl out of my evening bath in order to retrieve one pound of liver for a hungry customer.
Now, our meat (after being USDA inspected, labeled and vacuum packed) is sold out of two bartered upright freezers in our little farm store. Considering that meat travels over 1500 miles in the US before it gets to the consumers table we are happy that ours travels only 1/10 that distance. The Eureka locker, the only certified organic locker in Illinois, where we picked up over 1000 pounds of meat yesterday, is just 60 miles from our farm.
So, it goes from us, to them, to us and then to our customers. Farm to Face as we like to say. A really good system, except for the part where we have to put all the meat away in our store.
Frozen meat is how shall I put it?....Cold, yes that's the word I was looking for. It is COLD. It is times like these that we regret allowing our four children the option to grow up and move away. The days of young healthy, free labor were good days indeed.
Meat from our last pickup being stored in the machine shed freezers, is relocated to farm store via the high tech kids wagon. Empty spots are filled. Meat in coolers in the back of the pick up are unloaded and complete the empty shelf filling. Once the freezers are filled, any leftover meat from yesterdays pickup goes in the machine shed freezers.
All meat is hand marked with a lot number so we can track each animal to its own package of burger or bacon. Some of our meat is pre-weighed but some like our beef jerky is not so I had to weigh them and write the lot number on them. Yes, I did try a stamp, but the packages are cold and not flat so writing the lot number by hand works much better. Maybe instead of all the free advice you could show up on meat day and help put some of this stuff away. Hmmmmm?
Meat must be rearranged in the freezer into some sort of order. The method is complex. Beef on the left, pork on the right.
![]() |
| This is the PORK freezer. On a good day it will mostly contain PORK |
So meat is readjusted. And readjusted again. Keith is busy doing chores late since he had to leave early for the locker run. I'm just telling you that so you understand why I am doing all the meat adjusting. Someone has to milk and it ain't me.
Finally all 1000 pounds of meat is put away. We decide this would be a great time to sit down in the kitchen and get caught up with each other over pot of coffee number two. I've been up since 0330 and Keith has been up since shortly after that.
And who do you think shows up at that exact moment? Well the Illinois Department of Agriculture's meat inspector that is who. Seems its time for our annual inspection.
No problem, we give him a fresh cup of coffee and a few beef sticks to chew on while he finishes his paperwork at our kitchen table. Funny how he didn't show up until AFTER all the meat was put away
.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Saponification Sunday , Fiona Farrows and WATCH OUT Tide.
Sunday, Sunday Sunday. A day to relax and rest unless your friend Jay comes to visit. I keep telling myself that one day that guys' battery will run down...in the meantime we feed him, we watch movies together (Waking Ned Divine, LOVE IT) we count new born babies, we test powders and clays and then he helps me make laundry soap for the farm store.
This week I pulled out all the natural coloring bags. Indigo, Woad Powder, Orange Peel Powder, Wheat Grass Powder, Maddor Root powder. and French Red Clay. Why so many ? "Cause when Mr Jay is here, he and I have a hard time focusing. Residual bad behavior from our teen days of running from the cops, I mean "in track." Yeah, we were on the track team together. Athletes. Sure we were.
We spent a good part of the morning testing different powders and their solubility in oil VS water. Then we made laundry soap with him cutting little circles with a box knife out of paper bags while I ground up shaved bar soap with washing soda and borax. Truly with all that white powder floating around in the air we're lucky that...lets just say we were lucky.
We cut, we ground, we shaved, we labeled and then after feeding him fresh eggs, fresh sausage, fresh coffee we sent him home with a big bag O' meat for his Greek step father Gus.
Yes, he really has a stepfather named Gus, who is Greek, who owns restaurants and if he hears you making fun of him you might want to hide under the table. He may be 86 but he is no cream puff. He has a great recipe for one though. Of course it is a secret and if he tells you he will have to kill you.
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| Full Bred Red Wattle Hog Fiona and her new brood, about 12 hrs old. |
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| As a nurse I thought Castor Oil had only one redeeming trait. Who knew it could create happy bubbles as well? |
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| Soap made with (from top down on tiny bars) Orange peel powder Maddor root powder and Indigo powder |
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| Just one more product for the Farm Store Watch your backside TIDE |
We cut, we ground, we shaved, we labeled and then after feeding him fresh eggs, fresh sausage, fresh coffee we sent him home with a big bag O' meat for his Greek step father Gus.
Yes, he really has a stepfather named Gus, who is Greek, who owns restaurants and if he hears you making fun of him you might want to hide under the table. He may be 86 but he is no cream puff. He has a great recipe for one though. Of course it is a secret and if he tells you he will have to kill you.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
(Antique) HELP WANTED!
Farm, farm, farm, blah,blah,blah...
We needed a break today so off to Campaign (60 miles south) to pick up a few things at the...uh...farm stores...after doing all our morning chores of course, and then into Copasetic Consignments to pick up a pair of lamps I bought two weeks ago while on a shopping trip with mes suers. (That was for you Cro, sorry it's all I got)
This is where I need the help. I love antiques, even more so as I get older and my parents get deader. Not being disrespectful, just factual. But, I am no expert and therefore thought maybe some of my antique blogger friends, Tom? John? Algernon? might shed a little light (sorry, so very sorry) on this pair.
The lamps are brass, I believe, heavy, with marble, perhaps, between the base and the main body.
They stand 27 inches from finial tip (one finial is missing, I assume there must be finial replacement stores? Finials R Us ?). The marble bases are real purty as is the general scroll work.
The shades have been replaced with some kind of faux leather that (I think) looks great. No idea what the original shade was. They have been rewired. No markings on the base or anywhere else I can see. I paid $75 for the pair and love seeing them on the mid-century buffet I inherited from my folks.
So, who knows anything about lamps? Who cares to take a few minutes to tell me what you know? Who wishes I would go back to talking about diatomaceous earth and its treatment of bloody stools in calves.? These answers and more can be found on tomorrows The Midlife Farmwife. Stay tuned.
We needed a break today so off to Campaign (60 miles south) to pick up a few things at the...uh...farm stores...after doing all our morning chores of course, and then into Copasetic Consignments to pick up a pair of lamps I bought two weeks ago while on a shopping trip with mes suers. (That was for you Cro, sorry it's all I got)
This is where I need the help. I love antiques, even more so as I get older and my parents get deader. Not being disrespectful, just factual. But, I am no expert and therefore thought maybe some of my antique blogger friends, Tom? John? Algernon? might shed a little light (sorry, so very sorry) on this pair.
The lamps are brass, I believe, heavy, with marble, perhaps, between the base and the main body.
They stand 27 inches from finial tip (one finial is missing, I assume there must be finial replacement stores? Finials R Us ?). The marble bases are real purty as is the general scroll work.
The shades have been replaced with some kind of faux leather that (I think) looks great. No idea what the original shade was. They have been rewired. No markings on the base or anywhere else I can see. I paid $75 for the pair and love seeing them on the mid-century buffet I inherited from my folks.
So, who knows anything about lamps? Who cares to take a few minutes to tell me what you know? Who wishes I would go back to talking about diatomaceous earth and its treatment of bloody stools in calves.? These answers and more can be found on tomorrows The Midlife Farmwife. Stay tuned.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
The Dangerous Farm
Non-farm folks generally think pastoral thoughts as they drive by.
"Martha, look at that there peaceful pastoral scene" said Freddy
"Yes, dear it sure is peaceful in a pastoral sense" said Martha
What they don't see is the behind the scenes drama that sadly can take lives. Farming is one of the most dangerous jobs (number 4 in the top 10) in the US. I was always the nag hag of the family, running after Keith and the boys when they didstupid, asinine, ought-to-be-slapped-upside-the-head, thoughtless stuff. You know, like riding on the tailgate of the truck, or the livestock trailer or the manure spreader. They all had issues with riding INSIDE of vehicles for some reason.
But vehicular related accidents on the farm are just part of the risks.
Hay, can be a bigger threat. A couple of year ago, a distant neighbor of ours was crushed, and died, when large hay bales fell on him. He was in his 30's. We use the same type of large square bale and after that particular accident I was the shreiking mama who put the big kaposh on climbing on the hay bales. It made me unpopular with the teens in our family who would climb up top for some private time away from the adults.
Then last week, I saw these bales of hay Keith pulled out of our barn.
At first I thought mold, but a quick feel (I'm too tired for anything more than that lately) revealed dry and crackly. Sure enough this black stuff is burn marks. Put away on the moist side, the hay heated up and started to burn. Fortunately for us, this happened at the farmers barn where we buy our hay. By the time it was shipped to us it was cold and no longer a threat.
But seeing it sitting out there has reminded me how dangerous our job is, how fortunate our farmer friend was and how we all need to remain vigilant when it comes to farm safety. So if you see me walking around our machine shed or large livestock barn with my nose up in the air please assume I am just checking for heat in the hay, not being a stuck-up Midlife Farmwife.
"Martha, look at that there peaceful pastoral scene" said Freddy
"Yes, dear it sure is peaceful in a pastoral sense" said Martha
What they don't see is the behind the scenes drama that sadly can take lives. Farming is one of the most dangerous jobs (number 4 in the top 10) in the US. I was always the nag hag of the family, running after Keith and the boys when they did
But vehicular related accidents on the farm are just part of the risks.
Hay, can be a bigger threat. A couple of year ago, a distant neighbor of ours was crushed, and died, when large hay bales fell on him. He was in his 30's. We use the same type of large square bale and after that particular accident I was the shreiking mama who put the big kaposh on climbing on the hay bales. It made me unpopular with the teens in our family who would climb up top for some private time away from the adults.
Then last week, I saw these bales of hay Keith pulled out of our barn.
At first I thought mold, but a quick feel (I'm too tired for anything more than that lately) revealed dry and crackly. Sure enough this black stuff is burn marks. Put away on the moist side, the hay heated up and started to burn. Fortunately for us, this happened at the farmers barn where we buy our hay. By the time it was shipped to us it was cold and no longer a threat.
But seeing it sitting out there has reminded me how dangerous our job is, how fortunate our farmer friend was and how we all need to remain vigilant when it comes to farm safety. So if you see me walking around our machine shed or large livestock barn with my nose up in the air please assume I am just checking for heat in the hay, not being a stuck-up Midlife Farmwife.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Saponification Sunday
Yes, I am aware I did not talk about soap last Sunday. Now what was the reason ? Oh yeah, Christmas but hey, no more slacking off for this gal. Today is Sunday and therefore we talk about the soap, until I forget the next time. There's a 50/50 chance.
Decisions are being made on this first day of the year, important and earth shattering ones...there will be no further advancement of my soap business at this time. How's that for definately indefinate? With all that is going on farm wise my soap shall remain ETSY-less, EBAY-less and ON-Line Store-less.
Instead I will sell it only in my own little farm store and to the folk who ask for the occasional bars after reading my blog. Oh, and my hard core repeat buying soap customers Jean, Shannon, Wayne and Vickie. And those sisters of mine and their female offspring and my daughter, her daughters and of course the daughter-in-laws. Not to mention, but I must, my mail lady, and the owners of the two small nearby antigue stores but I won't be refilling those...well unless I change my mind...you know like if they beg me or something.
Does that make my soap very exclusive ? Naaaaaa. It just illumintes the slothfullness of the soap maker. Or maybe, just maybe a tired farmwife who is finally admitting she has limits. We're funny that way are we not? Insisting on doing EVERYTHING and then getting mad when EVERYTHING doesn't get done; but I regress.
But lest you fret, Saponification Sunday will continue as soap is fun and I am in need of more levity in my life right now and besides, the last thing I need is the law firm of Cro, Cocobong and Cro showing up at my door demanding their blog money refunded.
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| This weeks cold process creation colored with maddor root powder, scented with Frankincense Essential Oil which is very weird and yet likeable |
Decisions are being made on this first day of the year, important and earth shattering ones...there will be no further advancement of my soap business at this time. How's that for definately indefinate? With all that is going on farm wise my soap shall remain ETSY-less, EBAY-less and ON-Line Store-less.
![]() |
| Made with Coconut, Babassu, Olive, Sunflower and Castor Oils, it stacks well don't you think? |
Instead I will sell it only in my own little farm store and to the folk who ask for the occasional bars after reading my blog. Oh, and my hard core repeat buying soap customers Jean, Shannon, Wayne and Vickie. And those sisters of mine and their female offspring and my daughter, her daughters and of course the daughter-in-laws. Not to mention, but I must, my mail lady, and the owners of the two small nearby antigue stores but I won't be refilling those...well unless I change my mind...you know like if they beg me or something.
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| Dipped in Pink Himalayan Salts and Epsom Salt Crystals, my homemade bath salts. |
Does that make my soap very exclusive ? Naaaaaa. It just illumintes the slothfullness of the soap maker. Or maybe, just maybe a tired farmwife who is finally admitting she has limits. We're funny that way are we not? Insisting on doing EVERYTHING and then getting mad when EVERYTHING doesn't get done; but I regress.
![]() |
| Hot Process Crock Pot Soap created from 4 different Cold Process bars. |
But lest you fret, Saponification Sunday will continue as soap is fun and I am in need of more levity in my life right now and besides, the last thing I need is the law firm of Cro, Cocobong and Cro showing up at my door demanding their blog money refunded.
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| Scented with Lavender, Lemongrass, Sweet Orange and Bergamot. You say Pychotic, I say Eclectic |
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