First Snow

Sixteen paws and what do you get?

Another day older and deeper in debt? check. Unconditional love and immense gratitude? Most likely. Also-fleas.

We rescued this little girl, who had apparently been abandoned at a country crossroads, about two weeks ago.

It took a week, and a great deal of convincing to get her to trust us. She was so skinny and nervous, and would bark and run back into the woods. Then, one night she caved, showed us her belly, and let us bring her home. Very insecure at first, she would hide behind Steve's legs, and snarl and lash out at the other dogs. Then, the fabulous Miss Maybelle won her over with a peace offering of frog toy. Now, they are BFF.

Interestingly, she didn't have a problem with the other dogs after that either. Maybelle wins the peace prize!

Unfortunately, the little bitch came with a flea infestation. She was thoroughly bathed with Dr. Bronner's peppermint castile soap twice, and that didn't have much effect. I sprayed the dogs and all bedding with my essential oil formula, and that didn't do much either. I found a couple of fleas on the 13 year old Otis. Then, I panicked. I really hate fleas.

So, this has been one of those times in my life when the universe has said to me "think more, react less", or even "shut up and listen", and here's why.

I gave up using permethrin based topical products for my dogs over seven years ago, because I began to question their saftey, given that that there have been no studies as to their long term health side effects. These products are stored in the oil glands under your pet's skin, and are then distributed continuously to the skin and hair of your pet through the hair follicles for 30 days. Pretty weird, at least. Then there is the chance of side effects ranging from skin redness and irritation to drooling, vomiting, diarrhea, lethargy or seizures. My concern here is that these are symptoms of what? Liver or kidney toxicity? It is not real clear. Yikes.

However, I ran down to the feed store and picked some up, and proceeded to treat all four dogs. Just this once, I said, to get rid of these vermin. The problem was, it didn't work at all. No effect.

Which forced me to recall that the last time I used something permethrin based it didn't work so great either.

The donkeys are plagued by flies every summer. They will have nothing to do with a spray bottle-one little "sshhh", and they are OUTTA there, man! Unfortunately, a bucket and sponge produces the same sort of reaction. So, some years ago, I tried using a permethrin based, spot on treatment, called Equispot, that works the same way as the ones for dogs and cats. It was a beautiful thing, for a while. It worked like a charm, I only had to treat them twice a summer, they were comfortable, and everything was fine. Then, after their first treatment this past summer, I realized, the flies were still chewing up their legs and ears, and they were mad as heck. So, what did I do? The shame and desperation of it-I purchased a roll on product that had many of the same ingredients to "back it up".

It worked. However, permethrin is extremely toxic to amphibians, and though I tried to apply it well away from their muzzles, it got in their water trough and killed their mosquito-eating goldfish. I felt horrible. I felt like a murderer. I loved those fish.

So it would seem that these flies and fleas have developed a resistance to permethrins. Upon further research, I have found studies that prove it can cause resistance in ticks and mites after 12 or so applications. Resistance to permethrin is coded in the genes and then passed on to the offspring-which totally sounds like something I don't wish to be a part of.

My sister sent me a link to this site, where I found several testimonies of people who had treated their animals with these topical products, found that they didn't work, and then found success with treating their pets with apple cider vinegar. How simple is that?

So-all four pups got a vinegar dip last night. Otis won the Good Sport prize, I think a good hot bath is just what his 13 year old bones needed.

The result? Haven't found any more fleas so far. The dogs are unusually clean, smell good, and their fur is soft and shiny. I really hope that this is all it takes. Dadgum, it seems I have to be taught over and over that some of the best solutions are those that are really the most simple, and the most natural. Less is more. Don't freak out. Etc.

Now, I have all winter to consider what I will do about donkey flies next year. I don't think they will fit in the tub.

Ruffled Feathers

I am climbing back up on my soapbox, today. Why am I all riled up this time? It is my frustration at the issue of wintertime egg scarcity. Every year, without fail, we have customers who become downright irate, we even lose business, because we do not have an abundance of eggs. So, let us consider how chickens work.

Keep in mind, first of all, that a chicken lays an unnaturally large number of eggs. The purpose of laying eggs, for a bird, is to reproduce. So, most birds will lay a clutch or two a year, hatch them, and go on with their lives. Chickens have been selectively bred over centuries to lay eggs just for us to eat. Even in the last century, the average number of eggs per year, per chicken, has gone from 83 eggs to 300 or more, thanks to our clever genetic manipulation.

The strain this puts on a body is significant. As I have harped on before, an egg contains everything necessary to make a baby chicken, and provide it with enough food and water for three days after it hatches. So a chicken is, essentially, always pregnant.

What stimulates a chicken to lay is light. To keep a chicken constantly laying eggs, she must have sixteen hours of light every day. Now, when the days are so short, it is a signal to her body to cease production. This is naturally when they begin to molt.

Both eggs and feathers are protein. Laying eggs consumes all of a hen's resources, and there are none left over for making feathers. Feathers that are old and worn out, damaged or lost, cannot regrow until laying has ceased. So, the timing is just right, as the days grow shorter and the weather gets colder, to grow a fluffy new set of pajamas to keep warm for the winter. Shown here in progress by the fabulous Clovinda.

Winter, to my mind, is a time for things to rest, and I believe the chickens earn their right as much as anything else.

But! Aren't the holidays a big time for baking? Don't you need eggs for all the bread and cookies and pie? What are we to do?

In the old days, folks used several methods to preserve their surplus eggs for the winter, including coating them with a layer of fat. Mother Earth News did an interesting experiment using some of them-read about it here.

I notice that their best method is also my favorite-don't wash em, don't refrigerate em! Shocking, I know. I only keep the very clean ones, and they sit there on my kitchen counter, happily not spoiling forever until I am ready to use them. Eggs are coated with a cuticle, or "bloom" when laid, which prevents bacteria from penetrating the shell. This is very helpful if you are a growing chick inside!

Note: the eggs we sell are promptly washed and refrigerated, 'cause thems the rules.

Secondly, if you raise chickens, and allow them to follow their own individual rhythms, you will find that some will molt in the late summer or the spring, which means they won't all quit laying at exactly the same time. So, a few troopers will keep on laying through the winter months. If you have a hen that lays well late in the year, take note, and breed her, for her daughters are likely to share the same trait.

I don't believe little Red, here, has molted yet in her two years, and still lays an egg almost every day. I expect when she does, she will grow her little scalp feathers back out-meantime she looks kind of pirate-y.

What if you don't have chickens? Heck, I am not saying do without, but be aware that the eggs you will find in your grocery store may have been produced in less than desirable ways. In a commercial system, egg production is kept optimal by the use of 16-18 hours a day of artificial lighting. If the hens are not intended to be slaughtered at eighteen months, after their first year of lay, molting is forced by two weeks of starvation. This means more efficiency, as all are on the same schedule.

Eggs will also keep at 33 degrees for several months, so it is possible, if you can find organic, high welfare products, that there is nothing wrong with these store eggs except that they are old. My feeling is that nutritional value is lost in this method, but that is just me, and not based on any scientific evidence, at least none I have found so far.

It is not always convenient or easy to be a good locavore. I think that it is important, whether you are vegan, vegetarian, or an omnivore with a dilemma, that you respect your food. Whatever you eat, it was once a living thing. To know what it was, what it looked like, where it came from, and how it was treated-that is how you honor the thing that is giving you life.

We had the pleasure of touring our state university's poultry research facility not long ago. The scientists who led the tour were wonderful, welcoming, open minded, and sympathetic to us small farmers and homesteaders. They do most of their research for big industry-but then, that's who pays for them to do it. What are ya gonna do? It is not to say that their work isn't important (but it can be pretty scary). We are ever seeking more efficient ways to exploit our food animals.

One of the tour leaders said to us-what y'all do, you will never "feed the masses."

That may be very true, but the way the masses are being fed is not sustainable-that is also true. Right now, it is a matter of consumer education and choice. If peak oil is here, there will come a time when it is no longer a choice. We ought to change our ways now.

Whew! That is my two cents and then some, so I will step down from here now. Love your food, love your farmers. Thank a chicken.

Sunday Morning Visitor

Good luck? Or, I wonder if she would like to come in and warm up by the fire..

Life of Maybelle

I love the destructo-pup. She's very polite to chickens.

Terrorizes poor old Starry relentlessly, though I believe Starling enjoys it.

Has a Linus and Lucy relationship with Otis.

Maybelle: You're my sweet baboo.

Otis: I am NOT your sweet baboo!!!

He manages to tolerate her somewhat when she's asleep.

When it comes to her frogs, well, she has little sympathy for them.

Then she says, "Hey! Give that here! It's still good!"

Sigh, and on to the next one. At least it's not the furniture. Sorry, froggy.

November

So, I have been slack lately about updating the blog, but there just hasn't been much happening. I am still spinning and knitting things, and trying to dream up amazing ideas for knitted Christmas gifts. I haven't come up with anything brilliant yet, and would welcome suggestions!

Any knitters out there should check this out. You can upload any image you like and this program will convert it into a knitting pattern for you. I used the swallow on a felted bag for my sister.


I have been working on my propagation skills, taking cuttings of figs, blueberries, and some perennials before it gets too cold. I am still figuring out who likes soil and who prefers sand, who likes to be covered, and who likes to "breathe", so I have had to do several sets. I have decided that hydrangeas, in particular, seem to do best from cuttings taken in the Spring.


Steve found and identified some wonderful wild mushrooms that we have been nomming on-they are so delicious. These are "pear shaped puffballs". This one is especially charming.


Our donkey Gladys's expanding girth seems to indicate that she may be in foal again (though it's hard to tell for sure, she is naturally wide), so a visit from the vet will be in order soon. If she is, we can expect her little one, with any luck, sometime in March.


The old swine flu has been getting around over here, and we are both feeling a bit under the weather, so I think I will go make a nice pot of spicy ginger tea.

Things that give me hope

Chocolate chess pie, for one. Seen here with "mandatory shot of espresso".

Ah, it is a frustrating time for me right now, as I am not so much farming at the moment. The air is crisp and the temparature is pleasant, and I feel like I ought to be planting and planning and and celebrating the harvest, and I am doing none of those things. I've got farming in my blood, for sure, I daydream of cabbages and collards, leeks and strawberries.

However, I find comfort in my part time job of two years as a server in the grooviest little restaurant I know. Panciuto, located in historic downtown Hillsborough, is doing an exemplary job of promoting local farm products by making them into unforgettable yums.

It's a cute little place. Cozy and inviting.


The chef shops at the farmers' markets a couple times a week, and works his magic on whatever fresh items are available.

The best part for me, other than the satisfaction of seeing our own farm products being turned into something amazing, is the real pleasure the customers take in consuming them. It's hard not to have pride, when folks are always telling you things like "This is the best thing I have ever eaten my life"! They really mean it. Some of them even tear up a little. I have taken empty plates back to kitchen sometimes that look suspiciously like they might have been licked.


One of our eggs, looking all elegant.



So, it makes me hopeful that in showcasing the fruits of our labors this way, folks will go home equating local produce with good eating! It is not only healthy to eat fresh, local, seasonal veggies, it is also awesomely delicious. Spread the word.

The first days of Fall

My favorite tree, I think, with the groovy name Diospyros virginiana, American persimmon. They aren't ripe yet, but I am keeping my eye on 'em.

September

"Sorrow and scarlet leaf,
Sad thoughts and sunny weather.
Ah me, this glory and this grief
Agree not well together!"- Thomas Parsons, 1880, A Song For September



Autumn is beginning to creep on in. The nights are so cool now, the leaves just beginning to turn a bit, the seeds ripening.



The overall feeling I have is of being in limbo. There are no answers for how to move forward from what I have been working for these past years. There is not much to plant or harvest, no hints as to what my next opportunity will actually look like. The weather has echoed my mood. Neither hot nor cold, not much sun, and, though we are getting a good shower today, not much rain, either. Most days are a damp and fuzzy gray stillness.

Still except for the sound of tractors, harvesting tobacco, the sounds of construction at the neighbor's house, crickets chirping, and bees still busy putting by for the winter.

There are still a few things producing, always a happy sight. The squash blossoms,

surely one of the most radiant flowers on this earth! The figs are still ripening, along with some apples. The turkeys are happily feasting on windfall in the orchard.

The three koi in our pond have been, er, fruitful. The little koi are such a delight to see every day, although I am becoming alarmed by the rate at which they are growing!

Anybody need some koi?

We have found good homes for quite a few turkeys and chickens, but it seems that there is no further interest, which leaves us with 80 or so young laying hens that will have to meet some end. It is sad for me to tend to them every day, they are no longer needed, but still here, chasing crickets, doing their thing, totally blameless for their lack of necessity.



So, I keep looking for the next step, and I wait. It will come.

"I trust in Nature for the stable laws of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant and Autumn garner to the ends of time."- Robert Browning

Watermelon harvest

= happy chickens.

I have been saving seeds from a particular variety for a few years, now. The most perfect ones have golden yellow flesh with a delicate blush of pink in the center. Each one is like a work of art.

The variety still isn't totally stable, I usually get a few plain yellows, and was surprised to have a couple of plain reds this year. Oh well, I'll just keep trying. With the help of my lovely assistant Wiley, I saved a good quantity of mature seeds from the best melons.

Washed them well, and spread them out on paper to dry.

The poultry feasted on the rest.

Evidence of happy chicken-ness.