Animal Antics!

One of my main motivations for writing this blog is the hope that one day our children will look back on it, remember & understand.  So for this post I want to focus on the livestock, which brings some comic moments.  It’s not that we don’t have anything else going on; we’re expanding our delivery service and opening our farm gates to the public next week.  It’s all very exciting, but it’s having the animals here, doing their thing, that makes it feel like a real farming venture. 

Let’s start with our new arrivals.  Last Friday night, Ian and I toiled in the dark to finish a homemade ‘cap’ for the truck.  We were quite pleased with our $160 lid as they cost thousands to buy new.  Of course, being homemade, it made us look like hillbillies!  Anyway, early Saturday morning we set off to go and collect the first four of our pedigree piglets.  We worked really hard to source heritage hogs rather go down the commercial route.  If you’re interested in the differences, here’s a small article that outline some of the reasons for this decision: http://www.mnn.com/food/healthy-eating/blogs/6-reasons-to-buy-heritage-pork-from-small-farms

We got them home and off the truck without incident and settled them in.  They were very nervous but appeared to like their new pasture.  They tested the electric fencing causing quite the cacophony, but no harm done, they learn fast.  We named them John, Paul, George and Ringo.

That night, Ian went out at about 10.00pm to check on them.  He came running back into the house exclaiming that the pigs had gone!  Now I tend to be far less reactive than Ian when it comes to the animals but perhaps my “gone where?” question was a little daft, even by my standards.  So off we went with flashlights to traipse around an acre of chest high grass in the dark.  Nothing.  It was starting to look like our four heritage pigs that we had paid for that day had indeed gone. 

Ian and I met back at the pig house in despair.  It was at that moment we heard a faint snuffling noise.  Relief flooded over us.  We heard them, but where were they?  Further investigation revealed that they had tunneled underneath their piggy mansion and decided to make their bedroom underneath the structure intended for them. Pests! 

Underneath the house is where they choose to stay.  I call them 'the troglodytes'.  Seriously, why rent the basement suite when the mansion above is vacant?

The baby chicks have moved into the big girls’ hen house.  They’ve settled in now but were rather upset by this move at first.  Being free-range, the chickens go where they please during the day.  The babies were adamant that they were going to move back to their cozy nursery.  As the nursery is all closed up now, they persistently got lost.  Off we would go again, trawling the field in the dark looking for the chicks.  We usually found them snuggled into the sheep, apparently not quite ready to give up the comforts of a Mothers love.  This made for some late nights and I hate walking through that snake infested field at night, but at least the animals are giving me plenty of opportunity to become adept at it!

Let’s talk about the sheep.  Sheep must be one of the easiest livestock to look after.  All I do is change their water once a week.  Other than that I barely see them in all that long grass.  However, the oldest lamb is a ram and is getting a bit above his station.  He’s been testing us recently by threatening to butt us every time we go to check on them.

Last Friday, a delivery driver left the farm gate open unbeknown to me and I hadn’t properly shut their field gate.  Chaos ensued.  I wrote a brief Facebook status about this incident but it didn’t fully capture the comedy of the situation. Let me fill in the gaps.

I had come into the house to do some baking.  As I put 9 layers of cake batter into the oven I caught a glimpse of four fluffy sheep bottoms disappearing out of the farm gate.  Off I went, panicking.  There was no real need to fly into a blind panic; our farm is at the end of a single track road so very little risk of them causing a multi-car pile-up.  As I got down to the end of the drive, they were happily munching on the roadside foliage.  But, because the road is so narrow, I couldn’t get passed them to usher them back towards the farm and they were ignoring my food offerings and bribes to follow me back to the farm.  Every time I tried to get past them, I just frightened them further away from the farm and towards 256^th Street.  256^th Street is not a major carriageway, this is rural Langley, but the cars do come along there quite fast and there are a lot of trucks delivering feed to the many farms around here, so as they trotted out onto this road, I was quite worried.  Luckily for me a kind man stopped to help me.  He introduced himself as Farmer Rob.  I’m not sure if he was Christened Farmer Rob but that’s exactly what I called him.

I feel it’s relevant to tell you what Farmer Rob looked like at this point.  Contrary to what I told Ian, Farmer Rob can only be described as a bronzed Adonis.  He was beautiful in a masculine, country kind of way.  Approximately 30 years old.  In any other circumstance, I would have found this meeting very pleasing.  While I drawled over Farmer Rob, the sheep continued to refuse to comply and it was almost 30 minutes later that we got them back into their field.

As I turned around to shut the gate, Farmer Rob bid me farewell (sigh).  I raised my hand to wave and shouted “bye Farmer Ro….”.  I didn’t get to finish the word “Rob” because the ram butted me.  Right on my bum!  He put so much effort into butting me that he sent me flying onto my face…in the mud….and the sheep poop.  I lifted my head from my disgraced position to see Beautiful Farmer Rob, still with his hand in the air, mid-wave, staring at me with his mouth open in disbelief.  For some reason, I decided to remain aloof about my predicament and uttered “Thanks again Farmer Rob, bye”.  With that, he shook his head and left.  It was all very Bridget Jones and highly embarrassing.  I shall never forgive that sheep for my humiliation and will feel avenged every time I put part of him into my oven.

During this episode, my nine cakes had burned to a crisp!

As I said earlier, it’s the animals that make this feel like a farm.  It’s also the animals that keep us humble and remind us of our naivety.  Time for us to work on our animal smarts before we can really call ourselves Farmers.

Tiki happiness

Goodness, I’m tired.  And I’ve managed to aggravate a shoulder injury.  But don’t turn away now; this is not a whiny ‘I’m working so hard’ post because I FEEL GOOD.  Something has happened for all of us this week to dispel fears and enthuse us.  I’ll try and encapsulate some of those things but for those of you expecting a high-integrity, agriculture related write-up, call back in a couple of weeks…maybe.

Firstly, let’s talk about aesthetics of the farm.  Remember the adult swing set I talked about that we’ve poured blood, sweat and tears into?  Well, that is almost finished and it’s evolved. Not only does it look amazing but it’s a real triumph to our recycle, reduce, reuse lifestyle.  It can no longer be referred to as an adult swing set though.  When Ian made the benches that were intended to swing, he made them so sturdy that they were too heavy to swing from the frame.  His solution….to roof the frame.  But then another issue;  the benches would hang over behind the frame if they were swinging and Ian’s OCD senses started tingling.  The benches will now be fixed to sit flush with the frame.  We had prepared 6 benches for the octagonal frame leaving 2 sides to hang hammock chairs from, but with the roof the whole thing started to look more like a Tiki hut, and so it obviously needs a bar.  That very week, the fridge at Ian’s office died a death.  Ian reclaimed it of course.  It’s currently lying on its back, raised off the floor being clad in wood.  We will fill it with ice and people can put their drinks inside.

Some of you might have an idea of a Homesteader in your mind and think that a Tiki bar is not an essential part of the lifestyle.  So let me explain why I am pleased with it.  I am happy because it’s a nod towards our intention to enjoy this land.  If you’re working hard then there has to be some rewards.  This Tiki hut is an enabler for relaxation, reward and social gatherings.  I feel it’s an achievement because it looks awesome.  When you drive along the road, it’s the Tiki hut that grabs your attention.  But it’s not intrusive, we chose to paint it and kind of bark colour as it sits next to the trees and the roof is clad in cedar coloured shingles.  It complements the landscape.  But here’s the real homesteading achievement.  The structure is approx. 18ft wide and 15ft tall.  I estimate the total cost of building it to be around $400.  Not bad for something that size!  Had we purchased new materials we think it would have cost around $5000.  Not only that but we have had the experience of bartering and utilizing volunteers.  I will post some photos next week when it’s completely finished.

The next thing that has made me feel good is a conversation with my friend Kirstin.  She asked me how I was dealing with the bugs and animals as I talked about snakes, spiders, frogs, coyotes and alike.  How have I come to terms with these things?  Well, it’s been like an extreme desensitization program.  What can you do when you’ve invested everything into a home?  I can’t walk away and move in to a condo downtown because there’s too much wildlife.  I still let out an involuntary squeal when I see a snake but you just have to plough on (no pun intended).  It’s become more of an annoyance than a fear and that happened real quickly because it had to.

The final thing on my quest for happiness this week came courtesy of the tractor.  Up until now I have found it difficult to tell people "I’m a farmer".  I feel like such a fraud and opt for less intimidating alternatives, like “oh, I’m just a Homemaker”.  This week I completed an unquestionably farm related activity.  I tilled the back field for the fruit bushes and created a huge compost heap.  Even as I was doing it I felt embarrassed every time our neighbours (real bona fide farmers) were in the field.  I imagined them sitting around laughing about us as they wondered what the heck we were doing.  Anyway, we tilled the patch of land once, and then I moved the entire top layer of grass and soil to a neat compost heap that will eventually go back on the same patch of land.  Then I tilled 3 more times, and you know what, it looks great.  I’d even go as far as to say it looks professional!  And so now I’m over it.  I have something to show that I can farm.  I have a patch of tilled land and some chickens, in a coop.  We also have plans now for the veggies, the orchard,  the poly tunnels and the duck pond. Not much, but a start.  I even have a Tiki bar to show that I can enjoy farming too.  Bet our farming neighbours don’t have a Tiki bar.

So to conclude this post, confidence is growing, friendships with new neighbours are developing, epic social gatherings are taking place, volunteers have been fed, food has been preserved, we're having fun, and non-invasive, environmentally sensitive, organic architecture is happening.  Sounds to me like we are rocking this gig.