Clutzy, with a Capital C

Mister Duck

Some of you may remember the tailbone incident of last fall. I'm embarrassed to say, I have another chapter to add to my storybook of clutziness.

Monday, like all of the holiday weekend, was hot and humid. I'd taken up the broiler chickens' feeders around 9:30 a.m. Around 3:00 in the afternoon storms started to roll in west of us, and ahead of them the air started to cool. The chickens started to come out from under the shade of their tarp, so it was decided they should be fed now before the storms hit. Notice I'm not blaming saying whose idea it was.

I hustled out to the pasture, filled feeders and waterers, checked for corpses of birds that had succumbed to the heat. (There weren't any, hallelujah!) It started to thunder, and then to rain, and I was hurrying, and I was running and bounding and hurdling merrily over the tent stakes that hold the tarp down when BAM! I was skidding on my face through the grass.

As soon as I came to a stop I jumped up and OW! My arm. My right arm. Oh no, don't be broken. Please don't be broken. There's nothing protruding, I don't feel any sharp edges under the skin, it can't be broken.

But the pain and swelling indicated otherwise. Reluctantly I made an appointment to have it looked at the next day. Our family doctor was on vacation so I saw one of the PA's whom I also really like. When I told him how I received my injury he got a little excited.

PA: What kind of chickens are these?

ME: Broilers, meat birds.

PA: And they're, like, free-range?

ME: Yes, we raise them on pasture.

PA: And you don't feed them any yucky stuff?

ME: No antibiotics, no hormones.

PA: And do you sell them?

ME: Yes, also beef, pork and eggs.

PA: I need your address

So...once the farm business was out of the way, we got back to the elbow business. And I had x-rays. (Why not? I'm sure my deductible has already been met after two ultrasounds and a CT scan already this month.) And the x-rays were rather inconclusive. Maybe I fractured my elbow, maybe not. Either way, it just has to heal on its own. No cast, no sling.

I was actually quite excited to come home and tell Matt that we potentially got a new customer out of the incident. Hey, I took one for the farm!

Mr. Glass-Half-Empty pointed out, "The money you make on these birds probably won't cover the cost of your x-rays."

Fourteen

Fourteen years today. One college education, three homes, three kids, one rock band, three job changes, one renovation project from hell, and one farm later...we're still here. And I suppose it's only fair to note that most of those things were my doing, not his.

I read recently that after 14 years, the divorce rate drops to 2%. I hope this means we're practically home free. I know we've both had thoughts that maybe we won't make it. The fact that we're both extremely stubborn may have lead to some of these moments, but it's also what may have got us through them.

Other than being stubborn, we are really complete opposites. He is steady, patient, opinionated, knows exactly what he wants from life, sees most things in black and white. I am a roller coaster of emotions, very impatient, never quite sure where I stand in my opinions because I empathize with all sides, want everything from life, and see every shade of every color almost to the point of being blinded because it is just so overwhelming.

Sometimes these personalities compliment each other. Sometimes they simply drive the other one crazy.

I love that he loves me, still, despite nasty ugly fights in which nasty ugly things were said to each other. I love that he is a good father to our children. I love that he has never allowed himself to use his rather horrible upbringing as an excuse for anything. I love that he treats others with respect without regard to "status". (Though a person has to learn not to confuse his -ahem- sometimes lack of tact with disrespect.) I love that he's the hardest worker I know.

Things are just now starting to get a little easier. We're just now coming up for air after the grueling years of early childrearing. (And I don't even want to hear that it's going to get grueling again once they're teenagers, so keep it to yourself!) Madeline's getting to babysitting age, allowing us to have dinner in town alone once in a while. For the first time in 6 years, we may actually play a round of golf together this summer. We're starting to remember just why we fell in love with each other, getting back to being more than just co-parents.

Happy anniversary, babe. I can't imagine being anywhere but here, with anyone but you.

Let me rephrase that

When I said the other day that I love the hot, humid weather and bring it on...

What I meant to say was, bring it on after the chickens have been butchered. Since Friday we've had hot, humid days with highs in the 90's. The kind of hot that makes you think your skin is melting right off your bones. The kind of hot that curls the hairs framing Olivia's face into graceful little spirals. The kind of hot that is the death of 7-week-old broiler chickens.

For us it's the trickiest thing about raising these birds on pasture. We don't have electricity out there, so we can't put fans on them. We don't have a hydrant out there, so we can't mist water on them. But after losing half our flock last year in a heat wave the day before they were to be butchered, I guess we've learned a few things. We only lost 4 over 4 days of heat this weekend.

We've learned to feed them at daybreak, and then take their feed away mid-morning. Eating just causes them to generate more body heat. Wait until late afternoon to feed them again. Kick them out of their shed. There's no air movement inside the shed, and the heat exacerbates any ammonia present and damages their lungs. Set up adequate shade, with tarps or by other means. Move them to fresh, long grass. Of course have plenty of water, and position it close to or inside the shade area so that they don't have to move far to get it.

Just one more week to get through until butchering day.

Winston's posse

Today was gray and wet as spring showers came and went throughout the day. It's astounding, the difference between a rainy day in March and a rainy day a mere two months later. In early spring the rains and winds still carry a cold punch and the earth may still appear dormant and lifeless. Today's rain was warm, gentle, nourishing. The fields this time of year are like nurseries of infantile corn plants, only a couple inches tall now, lined up in row after row. I imagine the first experience of rain splashing on their narrow leaves - only 4 leaves at this point - was a bit of a shock.

Today's rain will bring life to the garden seeds planted last weekend, and the rise in temperatures we'll see this coming weekend should incent those seeds to germinate and push through from the underworld. Unfortunately, it will do the same for the weeds.

Onion sets

Today was the first day that hinted at summer days to come. Warm air, thick with humidity. The sun battling the clouds for position in the sky. A strong westerly wind blowing sporadic showers across the state and on into Wisconsin and Illinois. That subconcious sense that you should keep one ear cocked, that sense that the air holds the potential to turn wicked and dark and twisting. It is tornado season, after all.

I know I'm one of the few that loves hot Iowa summers. Iowa winters catch me in their gray, cold grip, pushing sadness and depression down my throat and deep into my chest. As the grounds dry out from spring rains, as the chill leaves the wind and it finally feels safe to expose bare limbs, I come back to life. I would rather sweat than shiver. Bring it on.

The garden, May 22nd

Planting garden was our main task for the weekend. And what a gorgeous weekend for it! Sunny, not too windy, highs near 70 and lows in the 50s. There's just nothing more satisfying than being out there digging in the dirt. And the dirt just gets better every year as it loosens up and gains organic matter. Even the flower beds are hosting more and more earthworms. It's a good feeling to know that we're feeding the soil as well as ourselves.

One comical sight around here is the sight of the hens flocking to the garden when they hear Matt fire up the rototiller. They come a-running and follow behind him looking for worms, seeds and other goodies. They also like to eat seeds I'm trying to plant before I can get the row covered. It will be interesting to see how many holes there'll be in my bean rows. I hope the beans come up quickly so I can replant whatever's missing! Matt's got the fence up now, so this shouldn't be a problem anymore.

Another challenge is keeping Rafe out of the already-planted part of the garden. He loves to dig in the dirt, but he doesn't always watch where he's digging - or stepping. I think we finally got it through his head this weekend that he can dig in the walkway between the strawberry bed and the ends of the vegetable rows. He isn't too interested yet in helping put seeds in the ground, but he loves to hammer in the stakes to mark the row ends.

Olivia did help me plant most of the beans, cover the rows and tamp them. I discovered the addiction joys of growing drying beans last year. And I thought heritage tomatoes were fun! Drying beans come in so many beautiful colors and patterns and just like heritage tomatoes, drying beans have such fun names. I planted Bumble Bee, Ireland Creek Annie, Kentucky Wonder Bush, Empress, Shirofuma (an edamame type), and one other one I can't remember.

I keep telling Matt we're not going to have enough room in the garden this year, and he keeps trying to tell me we have plenty. We're going to plant all the melons, squash and pumpkins outside of the main garden this year so I think we will indeed have enough garden space, even for the many rows of cutting flowers that Madeline wants to put in for her 4-H horticulture project. She's got 4 trays of starts in the basement. But I won't be convinced until the last thing is planted!

Our grand plan for the aforementioned melons, squash and pumpkins is to plant them along the fence that divides pasture from lawn. It's going to be a whole-family project. First we'll lay paper feed sacks down to smother the weeds and grass, wet the sacks so that they decompose a little more quickly, pile well-composted manure on top of the feed sacks, and then plant our vining seeds and starts right into the compost. I hope it works! If it does, it will free up needed space in the main garden plus do away with the unsightly weeds that take over that fenceline.

I've been following this month's Eat Local Challenge with interest. While the ideal is to eat organically, locally, and seasonally...it's definitely a challenge to put into practice. Especially at certain times of year in northern Iowa. And when you can't have all three, what priority do you use? Does locally grown trump organically grown, or the other way around? And how does a busy family today find time to grow (or buy locally) and put up enough food so that they can eat year round?

This time of year it becomes easier to eat locally as the farmers market opens up and our own garden swings into production. But at the same time, this is the time of year that I hate to cook. I'd rather head out to the garden after work than head to the kitchen. And if I'm in the midst of canning and freezing, I usually don't feel like fixing a meal on top of that. So I find myself turning to fastfood and convenience foods more often than in the fall, winter and early spring when I love nothing better than cooking up a big batch of hot comfort food from scratch.

So...what do you, dear readers, cook in the summer that's healthy, uses fresh local ingredients, and is QUICK! And satisfies the appetite of a hard working, meat-and-potatoes man (who does also love salads and vegetables).

His and Hers

Matt turned Winston and Sara back in together this week. Sara quickly claimed the "good" hut for her sleeping quarters.

The Princess Pack

The farm population keeps expanding! The latest additions - three purebred Chester White gilts. They've been dubbed "The Princess Pack" because they're so fancy. They're almost too nice to live on this farm. They have pedigrees. When they came off the trailer they were absolutely pristine and white. As you can see, they're adapting to the dirty life here.

They came from a confinement setup, so Matt had to teach them how to eat out of old-fashioned feeders. Sometimes confinement pigs will freak out when turned into open spaces but these girls dug right into the dirt and started having a good time.


Length of frame

We felt that we could probably direct market more than the 2 litters a year that we're doing now. But it's one of those things - you almost have to have the goods to offer before you can find out how much you can sell. We didn't want to take too big of a risk, so we signed on as Niman Ranch producers. That way we'll have a secondary market for what we don't sell direct. And it will be a market where we'll actually earn a premium for our meat, whereas if we sold to Tyson we'd get docked.


And what we'll kindly call "width"

I'm the first to admit I know nothing about genetics and swine breeding. But I'm the one that chose the Chester Whites to cross with a Large Black boar. CW's are supposed to be good mothers, have large litters, nice temperaments, and easily adaptable to outdoor living. I think the frame length and meat quality of the CW's will compliment the LB qualities. But at this point it's just one big experiment! Can't wait to see how it turns out.



These girls are December/January born, weighing 150-160 pounds. They'll be ready to breed in the fall to farrow in March. Our Large Black boar is too large to breed these girls. So we have yet to decide whether we're going to try and buy a young LB boar yet this summer, or have them AI'd. There's also the matter of figuring out housing for everyone. It's a constant game of musical animals around here!

Quack

This is a terrible picture, but hopefully you can see that our new farm residents are ducks! Muscovey ducks, to be exact. Pattie hooked us up with a breeding trio - a white drake, a white hen and a chocolate hen. The white hen waddled off to the creek right away and I attempted to shoo her back but she got around me and we've not seen her since. This weekend I'm going to wander over the property line to our neighbor's side of the creek and see if she's hiding over there.

But the other two have been doing exactly what I want - hanging around in the cattle shed and hopefully eating lots of flies. My favorite thing is that if I come outside around 7 or 8 o'clock at night, the two of them are taking a leisurely stroll through the garden together. I know I'll have to fence them out soon, but right now it's such a sweet, romantic sight.

My main purpose in getting them is for fly control. But if these two are as prolific as Muscovies have a reputation for being, it will be fun to try some roast duck as well.

Louisa

Did I not say she's the most beautiful calf ever? She looks like a sweet little lamb. This is Carmel's baby. Last year her baby Fudge looked completely different. Different bulls, but both bulls were black. There's some other genetics coming through here.



She'll be our last calf now for awhile. We have one more cow that was bred late, so she probably won't calve until July.



Has anyone figured out our naming scheme this year?

And now back to our regularly scheduled programming

So where were we?

After 6 hours of surgery, Olivia has a brand new eardrum! They also cut the scar tissue out of her ear canal and took a skin graft from under her arm to put there. Now the trick is to keep her at a low activity level while it heals. It's tough. She's an active girl. I get sick to my stomach thinking about going for her checkup in 3 weeks, and finding out it didn't "take".

In the midst of all that, I got sick. Sicker than I've been in...ever? We're talkng pain just below childbirth. I almost wasn't able to go to the hospital with Olivia. Ultrasound and CT scan have not shown anything definitive. After much lying on the couch and moaning, I'm feeling almost back to normal now. I think I'll be over it before they ever figure out what's wrong with me. It is kind of fun to be able to call myself a medical mystery, though.

Having 2 of our 4.5 team members out of commission is not good. Matt and Madeline recruited the neighbor girl to help move the broiler chickens out to pasture after we got home from Iowa City on Saturday. Madeline stepped up and took over Olivia's bottle calf feedings, and collected, washed and packaged eggs for me. She also helped Matt feeding the broiler chickens and with all the household stuff - cooking & cleaning, etc. This place is definitely a team effort.

I haven't yet finished posting baby pictures. Still to come...the most beautiful calf I've ever seen, Ava, and baby plants. Also a new (to us) species arrived here last Sunday. Stay tuned!

Graduate

Madeline and Ike have been participating in advanced obedience classes the past 9 weeks. Monday night was the final class and they received their "diploma".

Everyone always gets a kick out of watching Ike go through the tunnel.


The instructor brought biscuits for the dogs who successfully held the long sit and long down that night. Unfortunately, Ike wasn't one of them. He sits there awhile, and then it's like he just makes up his mind that enough is enough and he's getting up (or laying down, in the case of the sit).



The new puppy arrives Saturday and it will be interesting to see how Madeline juggles training both dogs at once. But this is definitely one of her favorite activities. Once Ava gets older I think Madeline would like to try some AKC events. Anyone have any advice on how to get started? I know she's interested in the Junior Showmanship and Obedience.

Once Madeline and Ike are done training for the county fair in July I'll get to have my dog back. I plan to try for Canine Good Citizen and Therapy Dog International with him.

Bottle Babies

Stevie, Tommy, and SpongeBob

Olivia asked to have some bottle calves this spring. (I think she's trying to build her case for getting a horse.) These are Holstein bull calves from local dairies, which only keep their heifer calves. We get them at a day or two old.

This year they're more expensive then we're used to paying - about $200 each. 5 years ago when we first started doing this they were almost half that. And I've heard that not long before that dairy farmers simply disposed of them, because nobody wanted them.

They get a (big) bottle of milk twice a day. Olivia makes the bottles and feeds each calf, and also makes sure they have plenty of water, starter feed, hay and bedding.

They're penned off from each other because otherwise they would suck on each others navels, which leads to infections and is also just plain annoying. Once they're weaned they'll get turned together and have access to pasture. We'll sell them in the fall, probably to our neighbor who feeds them out to butchering weight. We don't do Holstein "beef" anymore.



This summer Olivia can halter-break one and take it to the county fair, if she wants. (Halter breaking is an interesting experience, with a great variety of methods for doing so.) They have an open class bucket/bottle calf where kids from kindergarten thru sixth grade can lead their calf into the arena and answer questions from a judge. This gives them some experience before they get into 4-H livestock shows, in a non-competitive setting.



A birdseye view of bottle feeding.

A new month

means a new feature article at Farm & Garden. I got the gig this month for an article on Double Digging. These little writing jobs are so much fun, and I always learn a lot doing them!