I need a hobby.

Just one hobby. My problem is I want to do so much. My "bucket list " is now into Volume 8. I start one hobby and then decide I want to do another and another. First it was decorative painting. Then birdhouses out of gourds, then skydiving, (I can dream people) then photography (which I still love and play with) and now I'm goofing around with soaps, late at night when  I should be sleeping.

My newest venture started out looking like regurgitated pea soup.

I was sure this would be another fine batch for the home only supply. But as soap can do when heat and lye are involved, it morphed into this...

Now isn't that interesting ? A softer green and the little globs of whatever it was are going away. So I cut it into bars and 7 days after that I am rewarded with this...

Ingredients: Organic cows milk, organic coconut oil, lye, palm oil, olive oil, Tuberose essential oil and purple coloring

Isn't that cool ? Like dessert sand, or moon dust or residue from the nearby hazardous waste processing plant. I love it !  And the stuff actually lathers up very nicely and took on the the right amount of the Tuberose scent I added. So I named it after Elpheba. You don't know Elpheba ? You probably are not familiar with the Gilikinese either are you ? Read much ?  Elpheba or "Elphie" as I lovingly refer to her as, is the Wicked Witch of the West. In the book Wicked her side of the Oz story is finally told. An extremely hard to put down book. (Thank you Raven). Elpheba is hard on the outside but has a very sweet center. Just like my soap. Buy some now ($4.50 a bar S&H included) before the Jikinoph police call and make me stop using her name.

2 + 2 = 10

The new math. Never easy for me. Now it is just impossible. Two weeks ago we had four calves to bottle feed and no new deliveries expected. Good news in that it meant not so much time spent outside with calves. Bad news because in order to sell beef you must have steers to butcher. And steers my friend come from ? Yes, Carnac The Magnificient. you are correct . The answer is "What are calves ?"

An example of a calf.

So a trip to the calf store was needed. A couple of phone calls and an email or two and Keith was on his way to northern Illinois. There we found Krista Lidell and her organic dairy and some gorgeous Holstein calves. They were healthy and happy where they were, but still Keith convinced them to "go south" for the winter. Three hours later he and the new group were settled in on the balmy acres of South Pork Ranch. Everyone knows Central Illinois is much warmer than Northern Illinois. Sometimes by as much as 3 degrees.

Caring for 10 calves instead of 4 is not all that different. Except for 6 additional bottles, and enough additional straw for six hutches, and we needed 6 new collars as ours were pretty torn up and then a few more hooks to connect the collars to the 6 new lengths of chains to attach the 6 new calves to their hutches. And then 6 new pages of calf records to record where these little critters came from and how old they were and of course MORE PAPERWORK to prove they were indeed organic and Keith just didn't pick them up at Big R's Mid Winter Parking Lot Sale. And oh yeah, since they were all bull calves that meant 6 castration dates. (And you thought  blind dates were bad.) What did I forget ? Yes ! 6 ear tags to be inserted so all calves could be tracked through our massive farm.

Example of more than one calf

Yeah. Six more calves is really no big deal at all.

In a lather about rectums

January continues and so does our farm planning. We're no where near a ten year plan or a five year plan, in fact coming up with a one year plan is getting difficult. Especially since technically it will only be an 11 month plan, that is IF we finish up the plan before end of month.

Life keeps getting in the way.

The problem of today..the prolapsed rectum. Oh, don't be so sensitive. Farm blogs can't be about sunsets and soap making all the time. Well, its not my fault you haven't finished your breakfast. Get up earlier.

The rectum in hand, so to speak, belongs to one of our our smaller Red Wattle feeder pigs. A runt from the beginning. As soon as we noticed it, we tried to gently reduce it (Keith found the best angle and had the best results) and we separated the piglet from the others it was running with. Then I did some web research and talked to another pig farmer friend. Prognosis is poor and I expect we'll be euthanizing said piglet soon. To avoid future occurrences we'll follow some of the suggestions of the more experienced  pig farmers.
http://flashweb.com/blog/2011/01/rectal-prolapse-in-pigs.html


Seems the problem is often genetic and culling that gene from the herd (over time) is the best remedy. In the meantime prolapsed rectums can be avoided by providing large amounts of water, hay, good bedding and room to stretch out. Pigs are groupies though. They like to be with each other and in the winter have been known to lay on each other thus increasing abdominal pressure and adding to the problem.

So we looked at our largest group of pigs.

Looks cozy and spacious. Room for both the bacon and the eggs. But if you pan that eye of yours to the left

You can see how the hogs like to snuggle. Outside of this barn is lots of pasture and room to run but when it is cold pigs will lie together for warmth and debauchery.  So today, after Keith takes yet another hog to the locker, we'll talk about how to move which hogs where and when. Yesterday we tried to warn them of the upcoming moves

But when there is milk in their feeder, attention span is short.  So come on you fellow pig farmers out there. Tell us how you deal with the prolapse issue. How often do you see it , what do you do about it and how do you avoid it ? And thanks again to Walter Jeffries who covered the topic so much better , which I swear I did not know until I was researching this here blog and THEN looked at his blog to find he had blogged about said rectums several days earlier . That's my story and I am sticking to it. Your honor Sir.

You Take the High Road and I'll Take a Nap

Me last summer. The heat always gets to me. I prefer the cold.

Really, I'm serious. I just want to nap. Phones off, drapes pulled, blanket over my head. Not a long nap. Just that brief kind to reset all your buttons, reconnect the loose synapses, readjust the worn down connections. Just a little snooze that lasts oh, say...three or four weeks. After that I'm sure I'll be fine.

The Story of M

We love our customers. No one has better customers than we do. No one.

Yesterday was a busy day. Many customers came to the farm store.  Some had called ahead (not required unless you are getting milk for the first time) some were just drop- bys. Then "M" called. A tragic accident had just occurred in her home, in Chicago. Her beloved dog had knocked over her bottle of farm fresh raw milk. All that goodness now coating her floor. There was a bit of panic in her voice. "May I drive down and get more ?"

Of course.

So late evening as dark descended "M" made the TWO HOUR trek to our farm and replensihed her milk supply. Then she stopped at the store and picked up some meat. Keith gave her directions home and off she went down the dark and lonely country road.

A few minutes latter, a phone call. "M" was stuck in a ditch. She had gotten disoriented by the snow covered road thinking the ditch to her right was another lane ! Poor Dorothy we thought, she's not in Kansas anymore. We hopped in the truck, tow rope in hand and found her about a mile from our farm.

She was so embarrassed and apologetic. Keith hooked up the rope and I pulled her vehicle with the truck while Keith pushed. She was out in no time. Directions and encouragement were given again. Off she went. Eager, I am sure, to return to the safety in numbers she was accustomed to in the big city.

Thanks "M" for loving our milk soooo much you would drive 4 hours to get more. YOU are the customer of the month. A prize ? Yes, she does deserve a prize. What shall it be ? Ideas ?

"M" in disguise. She is our hero

Time for a long soak

Many years ago when I was a young, innocent, blushing bride, oh wait, that wasn't me. Anyway, many years ago when I had been married to Keith just a few months, he told me the biggest lie of all time. He said, and I quote, "Don't worry, things always quiet down in the winter." Funny guy. Hee-lair-e-us. Life on the farm never "quiets down" but it does shift focus from one season to the next.

As I mentioned in earlier blogs this month, we are in full planning mode. Except that we are continually interrupted by farm life itself which makes the planning part laborious. So on occasion when the timing is right and son Jason is free to do chores (he works full time for another farmer because THIS farmer can't yet afford to hire him full time but one day...) the husband and I take off for some R and R. Sometimes all we can spare is a few hours. We'll leave after morning chores, go out for lunch, visit a few antique stores, and then arrive back at the ranch in time for evening chores.

The time away may be short but it helps.

The best trips are the ones where we actually get to stay away overnight, Again its rare and depends solely on the relief milkers schedule , but when it happens we are so very appreciative. Giddy in fact. But until that opportunity comes again I'll just have to be content with a long soak in our claw foot tub upstairs. Once I clean it out. I told you, housekeeping has been on the bottom of my list lately.



A little piece of heaven at The Burren Perfumery, County Clare , Ireland
http://www.burrenperfumery.com/



Hillbilly Transportation

This is my Gator. Minus the wheels, and the engine and a seat and a few other accessories. Don't get me wrong. Keith and I are far from Amish, (hmmm "Far from Amish " another  great name for a band) but our equipment list is on the small side or I should say the very used side. We have two tractors. I call them the Big Tractor and The Kubota. We do not have any of those 3 or 4 wheeled devices that are great for smaller chores so we invented this modern marvel, the Milk Mobile. Fairly simply to operate which works well since the operator herself is fairly simple. One loads the milk bottles into a crate to avoid  tippage, then positions herself in front of the purple plastic and then PULLS towards the area of desire. PUSHING is possible but impractical since the sleds back end is knee high to a raccoon. (Yes raccoons have knees, could you try focusing ?!?)

The sled was rescued by Keith years ago on a drive by dumpster road trip. Annoyed once again, I ignored the additional inventory until the first snow following its acquisition. Seems the designer of said sled knew of what he was molding. The dang thing slid well through the snow even with a very full load of calf bottles. Certainly much easier than this Midlife Farmwife dragging her rusty red wagon through the drifts.