dairy goat dreamin'

ok, so this may not be a dairy goat, and if I remember correctly, it's a billy, but this is the only goat picture I have. He's still a handsome fella.

We've got a lot of plans in the works here on the farm. A lot of plans. Some of them are a little more exciting than others. Right now the dream that's got me most in a tizzy is that of dairy goats. I don't really want a full-on herd of them. Just 2. Enough for us to have plenty of milk, make some cheese, and have some leftovers for things like soaps and whatnot. We've got the perfect little spot out back, a "barn" that could easily be converted into the perfect goat shed, and the fence posts in place for a generous goat paddock. I've finally convinced Davey that goat's milk and cheese are a good thing, and it won't make us crazy hippies that don't wear deodorant. Not at first anyway. (I've actually given a lot of thought to the evils of deodorant lately, more specifically, antiperspirant... the body sweats for a reason, no? Not such a good idea to stop that natural process.) Moving on.

I've spent the last several days on the hunt for the perfect pair of milkers (yeah, yeah... that's what he said), they have to be the right price, and local enough that we can transport them easily. I haven't found them yet, but that's ok. The dreaming's half the fun :)

Mr. Beefy

Oh, Mr. Beefy. You are the bane of my existence.

Beefy started out here at the farm as a calf,  along with Steak, a pair of holstein bulls that we intended to butcher for ourselves, our neighbor and extended family. Two weeks into our first beef experience, Steak died of causes unknown. That left Beefy alone in our pasture, for the most part. For a while we had the neighbor's horses keeping him and the pasture under control, but then the horses moved on, and Beefy was once again alone in the pasture. For a while it was ok. He was scared of us and kept his distance. But gradually, he began to get less and less skittish, and more and more bullish. It's been a long time since Davey and I felt safe walking down to the creek, or scooping up cow patties for the compost pile.
 And then there was that rainy November day that he decided to bust out of the fence and go for a gallop through the front yard. I pulled into the driveway with my mom and the girls in tow, fresh from an outing, to see Mr. Beefy trompling through my irises. As I parked the van, I watched him start attacking the riding lawn mower, and began to realize that we had a serious problem on our hands. He wouldn't let me in the house. There was no way in heck he was going back into that pasture. He thought it would be a lot more fun to start ramming the van. Cue the frantic phone call to Davey, where once again I proved that I'm not the person you want to depend on in a crisis. I will melt the heck down, ya'll. Every time.
So by the time Davey arrived (can you imagine what his bosses and coworkers must've thought of this excuse? "Gotta go, there's a crazy bull attacking my wife and mother-in-law!"), Beefy had banged up the van, the mower, and about ripped the license plates off our motorcycles. And he wasn't buying the whole, "Look! here's the empty grain bucket that I promise has grain in it!" routine that I'd been trying (from a distance) for the last half-hour. It took Davey another 2 hours of wrangling him with a shovel (and let's be honest, my grandpa's arrival with a bag of grain) to get him back in the fence. I'm telling you, if I could have figured out a way to hoist him up in a tree, I'd have butchered him myself that night.
We know now that cattle are herd animals, and if he had a companion, we might not have any stories to tell about Beefy. But oh, we have the stories. That was just the beginning.

chicks in the brooder, and Farm Day!

We got some new chickies over the weekend, and I'm so excited about it! After the Great Chicken Massacre of 2011, we had 5 unsuccessful attempts last summer to keep chickens here at the farm, and I swore I wouldn't try again until the chicken run had been completely revamped with razor wire and motion-sensors and heat-seeking missiles and what not. And while we may not get that carried away with it, we are hosting our first Farm Day of the year on Saturday, and our youth group is coming out to help us repair the chicken run, pull some weeds, and plant some stuff. And what better motivation for teenagers to get some work done than the chance to see some sweet, fluffy chicks get a good, safe home? Here's hoping, anyway.
This time around we've got 3 Amaraucanas, 2 Rhode Island Reds, and 1 Welsummer. I'm planning to go back to the poultry lady this week and pick up some Lavender Orpingtons, and hopefully another Welsummer. Eventually these pretty ladies will be gracing our table (and probably a few others as well) with fresh eggs. I haven't told Davey this yet.. but I'm also scheming to get a rooster and start raising some chicks of our own. I might even start my own small-scale chick hatchery. I'm thinking to raise Welsummers or Amaraucanas to sell. IF I can find a good rooster.

Oh, and speaking of Farm Day - our first open-invite work day is this Saturday, April 14th. We'll be planting, fixing the coop, pulling weeds, moving around some bricks and whatever else looks like it needs doing. We'll end the day with a meal around the fire, and maybe even some music. Bring your work gloves and a camp chair, tools if you got 'em, or just come to hang out and keep us company. It's gonna be a great day!

good for the soul

So. The other day I was having a day. You know, one of those days. I may or may not have been a completely irrational, emotional wreck. The morning started rough, and I was having a little bit of a mommy-life-crisis. Being a new mom, loving it, finally starting to get the hang of it, and then feeling completely stuck all at the same time. It's just a day in the life. But sometimes it gets to me. What I wanted to do was crawl back into bed and pretend that this day had never happened, mope around til Davey got home, and have a good cry. What I actually did was throw the girls in the van and head out to Athens to meet Davey for an apologetic lunch and do some grocery shopping. And just for kicks I took the scenic route. Some day, when my camera has reliable working batteries and I'm feeling ambitious, I will make that drive again, and stop in the middle of the dang road every 5 minutes and show ya'll what I'm talking about. But for right this moment, you're just gonna have to take my word for it. I took a 20 minute drive through some of the most beautiful country this side of heaven. When I got into Englewood - a forgotten rail stop with 1 stoplight, a post office and a hardware store - I saw a horse and buggy parked on the side of the highway, and some men from the Englewood Mennonite community putting up a sign for their farm market. I've written about our Mennonite-run farm market in Delano before, it's my regular grocery trip all summer, but Englewood is about 5 minutes from my house. We're just over the ridge from the best produce I've ever had. I started to feel a little better. I drove on through the one stoplight, and rounded the corner to see another buggy and pony, and I think I even cracked a smile. I drove on past rolling farmland, woods and streams, fields and wildflowers, and suddenly, I was healed. Amen and hallelujah. By the time I got into Athens, I had that happy, tingly, peaceful feeling of knowing that I'm where I belong, in the middle of what I love, and so dang grateful to be here. I was reminded that we're here in the "middle of nowhere" because we want this simpler, quieter life. I won't say easier, because the things that we love take a lot of hard work, but the work is not a burden. It's not a means to an end. All the hard work that we're doing here is part of the journey, and it's a beautiful, wild ride.

P.S. - I don't want to steal anyone's photos, so if you click on the link below, there's a lovely little slideshow and article about the Delano Farm Market. It's good stuff, ya'll.

http://www.examiner.com/family-recreation-in-atlanta/delano-community-farm-marketpicture?slide=11253071

garden update

For those of you just joining us, there's more about the early days of the farm here. I'm not going to bother moving all those old blog posts over.. they're happy where they are. But from here on out, I wanted a clean start to just tell the story of the farm. Though I'm not going to promise I won't occasionally muddle it up with recipes, craftyness and what not. I am what I am.

It's hard to believe it's April, already (although the temp makes it feel like it's July). We've been hard at work, planting the new garden, for a few weeks now. We've really tried to focus this year on growing all the fresh foods we eat on a regular basis, so we're growing some things we've never grown before. It's kinda hit or miss. Some things are doing well. Others, mostly my sure-fire, never-say-die crops, are either struggling or dead in the water. Peas, kale, carrots, and green onions? We've got a date to replant this weekend, my friends.
But, my parsnips and celery are up. I may have danced a little jig when I saw them... I'm not telling. Seriously though, when you wait 3 weeks for seeds to sprout and then finally, FINALLY, they're up? It's a good thing. These are 2 things we've never tried to grow before, but we use an awful lot of celery every year, and parsnips? Well, they're just plain yummy.
We've also got beets, cucumbers, strawberries, and some early tomatoes and peppers alive and growing. And my seedings that I started inside are going like gangbusters. I rigged a dandy new setup with an old metal shelf and some fluorescent lights, and I've got 3 levels of seed action going on in my utility room. I'm loving it.
Another good thing? The size of our cornfield this year. We're planting it 3 sisters style, with corn, beans and squashes all interplanted in hills, and it's the size of our entire vegetable garden last year. It wasn't until I started planting the beans and squashes yesterday that I realized just how BIG the field is. 90 hills of beans, squash, and corn. That's gonna be a whole lotta squashes. Mostly pumpkins, actually. And you know what? I am more than ok with that. I bought about 8 different kinds of pumpkin seeds this year from Baker Creek- orange and green and blue and bumpy and crazy - pretty much every unique style of pumpkin I could find. Those of you who know me will know that I am really, really excited about this. I do love me some pumpkins.
We also ordered black beans - Cherokee Trail of Tears beans, to be exact - and Davey is super excited about them. It was when I was planting them that I realized how big this field is gonna be. One packet of seeds only did about 20 hills. Phooey. Next time I'll know to order the large packet. In the meantime, I'm gonna need to go on a bean seed hunt, because I can't even handle the thought of 70 hills of green snap beans. A girl can only snap so much! I'm hoping to find some more black beans, or maybe some red or pinto beans. Mmmm, beans. We've been eating a lot of beans around here lately. Beans, beans, beans. They're really quite tasty. And versatile. And cheap. Beeeeeeeaaaaaaans. I think I need to stop talking now.