Good to see the Sun

My last entry, “Good to have some Rain”, was before the recent deluge drenched Suffolk with about a foot of rain and turned my farm into a big bucket of mud. So I just want to say for the record, I didn’t mean THAT much friggen rain.

Good to Have Some Rain

We planted some rye and fescue last week and hope for the rye to come up soon so we have something for the goats this winter. But we just didn’t get any rain until recently so I’ve been a little worried.

Ducks love storms, but not when they’re young.

I found nine almost-dead ducklings after last night’s storm, and was able to revive four with a heat lamp. Their fuzzy feathers don’t resist water like the oily, stiff feathers that they’ll get when they grow up. They could have survived under the wings of an adult but my ducks are lousy parents and often loose track of their young. It could be because they’re descendants of farm-raised birds; it could be because the parenting instinct is short-circuited by the little-ones scattering from me while the adults follow me around looking for food; or it could be that ducks are naturally lousy parents and survive by producing enough offspring to cover the losses.

From a financial point of view, I put little effort into them and get little return, so it works out. But I feel bad about the losses and am thinking about how much effort I should put into preventing them.

Use a Machete to cut Fiberglass Insulation Batts.

First, let me explain that I could start a home building blog but I believe, despite evidence to the contrary, that someday I’ll finish building my house and have nothing new to write about. So, since the house is on the farm, I’ll put house updates here.

That said, I discovered a great tool for cutting fiberglass insulation batts. A well sharpened machete easily cuts through the fiberglass and paper. It’s long enough to prevent the kind of hacking that you’ll have to do with a shorter blade, and it stays sharp longer than a razor. You’ll still have to keep it sharp, so you’ll be spending some time on that, but the advantages are worth it.

Somewhat Free Range Goats

We move the goats about every four to seven days. We move them more when the grass and weeds grow slowly but then we stop moving them when the winter comes and we feed them hay that we usually get from Wayne Byrum. If we neglect to move them when the greenery gets scarce, they will jump over or crawl under the net. So the little zap that the charger provides doesn’t amount to maximum security measures.

When we move them, we let them out for a couple of hours while we take down the net, move their little shed with the tractor, and reassemble the net, the charger, the waterer, etc. With a little shake of the food can they come running back home where, even with their little brains, I think they know they’ll be closed in for another few days, and don’t seem to mind.

I doubt I can call them “free range”, but even within the hundred square feet or so that they have, they can run around and butt heads. I don’t provide access to information media, so they have nothing to compare themselves to, but I think they’re happy.

Mark Killed a Sheep and I got to Help

Yesterday morning I helped Mark slaughter and butcher a sheep. Helping Mark is more about learning than contributing. I think it’s like the old joke, “I can have it done in an hour; with your help maybe two”. Larry also helped, so it took the three of us almost two hours and I think Mark could have done it himself in about 45 minutes.

I was most impressed with the kill. My goats generally die by a 22 to the back of the head, without them even knowing it’s coming. Hell, if you have to do me than do it that way. In fact, put some food in front of me to make me happy when you do it. Let my last thought be something like “Oooh! Bagels!”, then do it. But I digress. Mark held the sheep down than slit it’s throat. The sheep kicked it’s legs a bit but it was doing that before the cut. It didn’t fight furiously at any point, and after the cut it calmed down quickly and seemed to be dead within a few seconds.

I prefer my method but I see value in the ability to take an animal down using the simplest of tools, like a knife, and do so with such skill that you cause a minimum amount of suffering. I don’t trust myself not to make a mess of it, and end up having to chase a bleeding, screaming animal around with a knife. So for now, I’ll keep doing it my way. Hopefully there will still be some bullets available after all the conspiracy kooks run out of shelf space.

Egg Neglect

A muscovy duck abandoned her nest just before it started to hatch. Four lame ducklings managed to hatch but soon died and the rest just died in their eggs. I wanted to slap her around and yell at her but I don’t think that would have been productive. I don’t know what made her leave. It’s possible something scared her away or maybe it was just taking too long and she gave up just short of success.

First Day Out

These little guys, slow Cornish and brown leghorns, are a little more than three weeks old. Leghorns basically come in white, brown, and buff. The most famous leghorn was, of course, Foghorn. I believe he was of of mixed heritage, since his brown head and white body were an unusual combination . The Cornish are for meat and the leghorns, hopefully, will give us some eggs.

We got these guys from Privett Hatchery (That’s right guys, mail order chicks). Sasha decided it was time to let them out for a bit. They stayed close to the movable coop, but ran around and flew in short bursts. This is why we do this. I’m not against eating animals. I’m against denying them the right to run around.

Tina writes about getting grass-fed beef from a local farm where cattle are allowed to graze freely. By “local” I mean, the NC/VA border on the West side of the Great Dismal Swamp. I note this for the benefit of the hundreds of national and international visitors who I’m sure are just about to discover my wonderful blogs.

Update on Porky, the Killer Pig

I haven’t seen any more rampages but since we don’t really keep count of our birds it’s hard to say if we lost a couple.

I built the trough so the pig food wouldn’t be at ground level encouraging the ducks to stick around at feeding time. That seems to be helping, but a few still hang out.

We’ve also increased their feed, but I don’ t feel good about that because Porky and Bess are already overweight. Not that they’ll ever have to run to catch a bus or anything like that, but obesity has detrimental effects on health, including birthing difficulties.

What we’re feeding them, using the Folger’s standard, is a half a coffee can twice a day, of a 50/50 mix of pig food and scratch.

I used wire and fence staples to attach to trough to the gate but the pigs managed to rip the trough away. They butt it around like a toy and it will soon fall apart so I’ll have to build something more substantial.

Killer Pig

Today, while feeding Porky and Bess, our American Guenna Hogs, I noticed a dead duckling out where the pigs were. A bunch of ducklings have been hanging out with the pigs because they like the big mud puddle. I didn’t think much about the dead duckling; it happens.

The ducklings peck around the pigs’ food when I feed them, risking being stepped on by one of eight feet bearing about 100 pounds each. But they usually survive. This time, Porky attacked one of the ducklings, and with surprising aggression, killed it, and ate it. He went on to attack another. You’d think the ducklings would be running now, in horror and panic, but they didn’t notice. Ducklings aren’t bright. I tried to grab a few and toss them away, but they kept running back.

I don’t know how many ducklings we lost to Porky.

I don’t know if this was a rampage brought about by feeding time excitement or something that happens throughout the day, but I built a feeding trough to keep the pig food above where the ducklings can get at it. That might discourage the ducklings from hanging around at feeding time. I’ll provide more info soon.