A Donkeys Tale

 

 

 

Some days this whole homesteading gig is just a big load of manure .Yesterday was one of those days. We lost our little miniature donkey Doolin.

"Lost" as in died, not as in he wondered into town, and hopped a bus for the warmth of Florida. I only wish he had.

After weeks of brutal sub zero weather, the temps broke yesterday am. We were elated. Almost 20 degrees ABOVE zero. But it was too little too late apparently. When Keith went out to do chores he heard our donkey call to him, not unusual as Doolin often called when he saw us or was hungry or lonely or bored.

But it sounded different and he wasn't standing by the feed shed as normally he does. He was instead around behind the shed lying flat out on the snow.

It's never a good sign when an animal is lying on his side out in the cold.

Keith came in to get me and it was obvious he was in dire shape. Irregular breathing, bright red blood on his nose, glassy eyes but his body warmth was still good. Keith went to get the tractor. While I waited, kneeling in the snow using my body to keep Doolin up right so he could breathe better I felt that he knew we were helping him.

The way he leaned against me--into me--was more than just fatigue. Rubbing him all over, trying to keep his circulation going, trying to encourage him made us both feel better I think.  With some pulling and lifting we were able to get him in the tractor bucket. He even fought us a little, kicking his abbreviated legs which was good and gave me hope. False as it was.

With my holding up his head and walking next to the tractor while Keith drove slowly, we got him into our machine shed and I called the vet. Our regular one was gone and the other told me "we don't do donkeys" but they would ask the vet for advice. I was ready to go to town to get antibiotics and steroids as I was sure that was what he needed.

Back to the machine shed to see if we could get him to drink but no. And then just as quietly as I have ever in my life seen an animal or person die, and I have sadly seen many of both, he just stopped living.

It took several seconds for me to realize he was indeed gone. Keith got my stethoscope and I listened but only to confirm what I knew.

Death is a regular part of the farm life. Animals get old, animals go to slaughter and sometimes when the weather is just too much animals succumb. But there is much guilt with this passing. Last week I noticed the bright red blood on Doolins nose and even though pneumonia normally produces frothy PINK sputum I still listened to his lungs and belly.

No crackles, (fluid) no wheezing and looking closer at his nose it seemed it was chapped and sore. I decided it was because of the terrible cold and ice and he was probably nosing around in the snow out in pasture just hoping to find some real green grass.

Even animals get tired of the dried stuff (hay) over the long winter.

I treated his nose with coconut oil and the bleeding improved. Then every other day or so I'd see a little more. But his appetite was good, he was active, he was...himself.

Until he wasn't.

I personally do not believe that animals have souls. When they die they die, But I do believe they have hearts and Doolins was big. A gentle creature from the time we brought him home as a tiny foal as a Christmas gift for our GK's 7 years, he had won all our hearts. Not that he couldn't be annoying. Always in your face whenever you tried to fix a fence or saddle up Ennis. He  had to be in the middle of everything!

Many kids got to ride him, many more got to rub his cartoonish face and long fuzzy ears. He was close buddies with our Shepherd Ashland as they spent hours chasing each other back and forth, back and forth in the pasture.

This morning Ennis is standing by the shed by herself. Ashland is laying at her feet ! She looks one way and then the other. I know she is missing her little buddy

She's not the only one.

 

Outhouse of My Dreams

Over the years we have received many interesting things from our children for Christmas: hand made pottery items, frames made from old china pieces, shelves crafted in woodworking class and we have truly treasured them all. And just when you think (a bit sadly) that the cute little homemade crafts will never be gifted again because, face it...your baby is now 23...you get THIS for Christmas

 

A beautiful hand crafted outhouse! Kept under wraps in our oldest son's Colton's garage, he had apparently started working on it right after we purchased The Poor Farm. We were shocked being as it wasn't even on our wish list. I figured some new socks and a few bags of black licorice would suffice.

 

 

But Colton is that that age now where he thinks HE knows what is best for his parents. And he was right. When we start building our new home (still waiting for Prince Farming to come along) we'll need facilities. And being as we currently use the property for target practice and the nearest gas station is a couple of miles away, it will come in handy in present time as well.

 

The beast was a bit tall and getting it out of the garage and into Coltons pickup took several strong young men.

 

 

 

The Poor Farm is about 11 miles from the site of outhouse creation and travel had to be slow. Couldn't take the chance of dumping it on the highway! "Dump" yeah. It is funny.

 

 

Fortunately there were no low bridges to go under and the Outhouse Ma Hal made it in one piece,

Even up the narrow in-desperate-need-of -at-least-two-loads-of-gravel-driveway. Getting it off the truck went well. In fact I hardly broke a sweat, as I just stood there and watched.

 

 

 

 

As impressive as the outside was the inside was oh la la. I'm telling you the apartments and houses I lived in the first decade of my adult life did not a loo as clean and comfort filled as this one.

 

 

 

Check out that magazine rack! And the double decker toilet paper rolls. And for those who truly understand infection control...the sanitizer dispenser.

 

 

So thanks to the Loo Crew

 

From left son Kyle, husband Keith, friend Nat, son Jason and son Colton.

Not pictured but totally deserving of special thanks is daughter-in-law Tab who gave up her garage parking space for several months while the Loo who Grew was being created.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Raw Milk Monday

Please note: If you are new to my blog you can catch up on the reasons for my raw milk passion and the struggles our own farm have experienced, by reading any of the previous posts on the topic I have written over the last 4 years . To do so, simply enter "Raw Milk" in the search bar, on the right.


Its' certainly been awhile since I've updated everyone about the raw milk status in Illinois. So here goes.

You might recall, the last meeting of the Dairy Work Group, a subcommittee of the Food Safety Committee of the Illinois Department of Public Health (IDPH) was held in November 2013. A couple weeks later Molly Lamp of IDPH emailed the members of the Dairy Work Group, of which I was one, telling us the group was no longer needed.

Our comments and suggestions were now on their way up the chain of law making command. After a year of hard work, heated discussions and banging our heads against the brick walls put up by those who were far more interested in the welfare of big Ag than they were in the ability of small farmers to make a living selling a wholesome product.

Last week I was contacted by  Eva Voinigescu  a reporter with the Medill News Service in Chicago. She's working on a video story about raw milk policy in Illinois. Like a good reporter ( a rarity today with so many just re posting and re tweeting without ever verifying their sources) she called Molly Lamb for a comment.

Ms. Lamb told her that the group was NOT disbanded.

How very interesting is that since we've not had another meeting nor have any been scheduled for 2014.?  Ms. Lamb told us herself the proposed rules suggested by the group, and hopefully all the documented opposition to those rules, was making its way towards the Joint Commission of Administrative Rules (JCAR) .But once again I am not surprised. If I learned anything last year in the trenches of law making it was this:

Facts are not valued in the process. Opinion, power and end results for those who will benefit most, are on the other hand, greatly valued.

For your viewing pleasure I've recopied the shortened flow chart of the rule making process for raw milk sales in Illinois. Once again I have to state that we in Illinois were very fortunate that we found out about the changes being suggested BEFORE they went to JCAR and at least had the opportunity to oppose then and suggest more reasonable solutions. Whether or not our work made any difference still remains to be seen. But we were proud to at least be part of the process.

Bottom line as of today February 10, 2014. There are NO enforceable rules regarding raw milk production or sale in Illinois.

Winds of Change

Being in our 50's we understand the facts of life. Teenagers hate you. Produce goes rotten before the cookies do and it snows in Illinois in the winter.

But THIS winter had been over the top. Snow then freeze then thaw then rain then snow and freeze and thaw and sleet and more snow topped with a nice frosting of ice.

99% of the time the wind will come from the south east and the majority of shelters take this into account.

Which means even with bad winds our animals have good dry places to get out of the wind. Except when the wind shifts, like it has been lately and blows in through the open north sides of the barn.

Leaving us and them with indoor precipitation. Drifts in the barn etc...

We are so tired of this winter!

Ashland grows Up and Up and Up

You might recall this little guy. The dark one in the back.

 

 

 

He was about 4 months old when the pics above and below were taken.

 

 

I snatched him last year while making a delivery in Chicago, on Ashland Avenue thus the name. I am sorry to say I bought him from a pet shop instead of a shelter but he probably would've ended up in a shelter so what's the difference? Well the main difference was he was one sick puppy. Parasites to the max. losing weight, vet visits and his first two weeks here were rough. Then he got better. And bigger and bigger.

 

He is still growing.

Rumored to be 3/4 German Shepard and 1/4 Huskie, he was the first dog in the history of our farm to ever be allowed inside. Because he was so sick it just had to be. So he was house trained. And he does tricks! Like sit. Who knew dogs could follow commands? We do enjoy his company in the farmhouse.  Except when he insists on lying in front of the sink just because there is a heat register right there.

Sometimes he's inside and sometimes he is out. He tolerates the cold and the heat equally well. Sometimes he chases the pigs while other times he obsesses over the ducks. Chases them but never actually has them for dinner.

 

 

Since he came to the farm after Fannie, our Great Pyrenees,  he is at the bottom of the doggie totem pole. When I come out of the house Fannie will not allow him anywhere near me until SHE decides it is time. She eats first and gets the best spots in the barn to sleep in.

But he gets joy from other things

Like chasing snow.

 

Must be the Husky in him. I'm wondering if its too soon to hook up a sled behind him?  

Feeder, breeder, sucker, eater What's the difference?

You might look at this guys and think...

Pig. Just a pig.

But really he is so much more. He might be a suckling pig still nursing, fat and round and oh so yummy. Sold while still hanging with his family they are oft used for parties. Folks like to roast them whole with head and feet in place so their guests know it's a pig and not a camel they are having at Aunt Bertha's 93rd birthday fest. Roasting pits can be dug directly in the ground or made out of a pile of bricks. They sell for $6.75/pd

Or maybe when he is closer to 8-10 weeks and after weaned from mama, able to enjoy grub all by himself, we might sell him as a  Feeder. Feeder pigs are very popular on the new homesteads. people buy a few, raise them to around 6 month of age and take them on a field trip (no stopping at McDonald's but maybe Bob Evans) to a locker who slaughters and packages the meat. Enough for your own family and maybe some friends. A great way to start raising hogs without having to do chores in the winter. Buy in spring, sell in fall, have ham at Christmas. They sell for $125 each

After the age of 10 months , if large enough, our Red Wattle hogs might be used as breeders. We used to register our young stock, based on the traits of their parents, as breeding stock, but now we wait. We have 3 year old gilts just now having their first litters (thus turning them into sows) and I'm sure I'll probably only register 1 of the 3. She'll be the prettiest one, with the long lashes and the wide hips. They sell for $300 each if young and up to $1200 each if they are a bred sow or proven boar.

Eaters are those hogs we save for our won freezer and for the store freezer. Like the ones we sell to customers they are 6-8 months when they go to the locker. When they come back they are in in nice neat vacuum packed see-through packages with all the appropriate labels. It is the most expensive way we sell our meat. Mostly because of all the packaging and labeling. Each vacuum pack is 40 cents each. Each label with our farm name is 12 cents. Plus more for the organic seal and weighing of the packages.

Pretty is never cheap.

Thus the meat in our store is sold by the pound. Bacon would be $10.49 a pound compared to paying just $ 4.65 pound ($3.75 a pound plus processing) if you bought an entire hog. So now you know why going "Whole Hog" is a good thing.

Farm Diversification ...In Reverse

We got our dairy license in 1995 and sold to a co-op.

We raised a few pigs and calves each summer for freezer meat for a few friends and family

Then we became certified organic and sold more meat out of our basement freezer.

Then we stopped selling milk to the co-op and sold only to folks who came to the farm.

Soon after we started selling to a Chicago Grocery Store

Then another and then two more

Then we sold our meat at the local Farmers Market

Then we started selling to restaurants. First one, then two then ten.

After that we opened up our farm store

Then we sold roaster hogs to folks who liked parties and we delivered all over the state

Then our Red Wattle meat got picked for chef contests and school events and fund raising and and and and

And we were very successful

And totally exhausted.

So we put our farm business up for sale. While we wait for Prince Farming to come along and sign on the dotted lines we have taken up a new direction.

We call it, reverse diversification

First we cut back on roaster hog deliveries and then we eliminated the restaurants. We started resigning from the boards we served on and all the other events.

We stopped entering our pigs in beauty contests!

Last week we stopped selling to grocery stores.

As of  yesterday 100% of all our pork, and milk and beef) will now be sold direct to the consumer who comes to our farm, ONLY and we are very excited but of course worried.  When we ceased selling to restaurants, we prayed our customer base would be strong enough to purchase our meat directly or in the grocery stores.

And now we are pulling away from the grocery stores. Again we have to ask, "what if our customer base is not large enough to support what we are raising?" or "what if there are enough customer numbers but not enough consumer cash to afford our organic meat?" or "what if we have enough customers, who have enough cash but don't want to drive out to our farm?"

What if?

What if?

What if?

What if  we do manage to sell enough meat just out of our own farm store to actually pay the mortgage and the feed bill and the phone bill?

We won't know until we try.

Our customers tell us they would buy more meat if we had it available; that they have friends who would buy our meat if we had enough. That they would like to pre-order a whole beef and a whole hog every year.

So OK we'll give it a try. Instead of spreading ourselves so thin we'll spread ourselves thick.

About 1 &1/2 inch thick for 7.75/pound if you happen to be a bone-in pork chop in our farm store.