Update of Farm News

It has been a long time since I have posted on the blog. There have been some changes. I have new horses that I will write about soon. I cut my hair and remodeled the house. Spring this year launched itself with a vengeance after a relatively mild winter. Almost everything is at least two weeks early. This will have some repercussions for the summer.
I decided to move away from the fjord horses for several reasons. Their smaller size meant that I had to use three horses for some jobs. Ever since my beloved Tora has grown too old to work a regular longer session, I have not found a team that I like. I have been spoiled. The new fjord Molly is stubborn. The problem with having tractors is that it is easy to use them when horses are a bit of a pain. If I had to work the horses to get anything done, I would work through the difficulties. Instead, I fully admit that I am on the look for the "perfect" team. For me, this is a kind and easy going pair that even beginners could drive. I purchased Brandy and Babe last year. They each had colts and that was fun but Brandy has proved to be less easy going than I had hoped and I have replaced her with Bonnie, a percheron mare. With the early spring, I will be able to begin work with them on Sunday.
When the weather turns warm, do you hope that you can plant early and step up your planting schedule? For some things, it is too late because they take a certain amount of time to grow. Stretching out the season would also take more ground to plant extra plantings of say broccoli. I am shooting for adding one extra week on the front end and having some things ready for an earlier delivery, sugar snap peas for example. The internal rhythm that runs my farm clock will be off and so I will have to plan and scheme more than usual. There are many questions... Will the insects arrive earlier? Will potato bugs be past their peak when the potatoes are up? What should I plant to fill in the gaps that will be left from planting earlier.
The greenhouse is heated (as much as you need in a mild year like this) and is beginning to fill up. It is nice to be back to working outside and being active. With this job, you have to roll with what ever the weather brings. I try and enjoy the warm, mild days and the early greening up and push away the feeling of dread that this is another sign of global climate change.
I borrowed a boar to breed my two sows and he is happily established on the farm. Sows heat cycle is 17-24 days. Gumdrop came back into heat and has been bred again. I hope she settles so I can return the boar to his home. With corn at $6.50 a bushel, it is expensive to keep him. Piglets will be born in July. I'll keep you posted.

Who needs Facebook, Wimp, Dump or Hulu when you can watch pigs newly on pasture. Big Mama, Porkpie and Gumdrop cautiously headed out between electric fence strands that led to the new pasture. One of them hit the fence and they all made a bee-line back to the covered pig pen. The sound of ears of corn hitting the ground brought Porkpie, the boar back out. His crunching brought the others out slowly. They scanned carefully for the hot tape, ready to head back at the slightest sound of a snap. Gumdrop, the gilt (a female pig who hasn't had a litter) decided she had enough and went back to safety but Big Mama and Porkpie made it all the way out.

The new pasture is ground that had plastic for melons and tomatoes last year. The plastic is gone but the hay mulch is still there. Pigs eat a fair amount of grass and weeds and they will enjoy eating the regrowth of winter rye and dandelions. Its good to see them out roaming around plowing sample furrows with their snouts as if to sample the local flavors. Do they eat night crawlers? The pigs can stay in this field for a while but soon I will need to seed it down to cover crops for the next years vegetables. I will move them then to another field where I am going to experiment to see if they will eat the noxious weed nutbrown sedge.

Ode to Molly

In January, I had to put my beloved dog Molly to sleep. I hadn't noticed how difficult things had become until I can back from a week away. She was very stiff and was having trouble staying warm. She wouldn't use her dog house and seemed confused. The slight droop to her eye suggested a little stroke and it was time to say goodbye. I called Dr. Al right away. I wanted her put down in the truck, her favorite place. Al Horvath has had a long history with Molly and he was so loving as we gave her a sedative. As she relaxed under the influence of the drugs, I realized how tightly she had been holding herself.
I got Molly in 1996 or so from a breeder. Australian Shepards, as with other working dogs, like to have a job. This is fine if its a job that works for both of you. I earlier had a dog who thought that chasing cars with their job. Molly was a young dog but had already chosen the job of carrying things around. I could live with that. It only meant in the spring, when the snow melted, the yard was littered with fire wood she carried around as I was getting wood for the house stove.
The best thing about Molly was her patience with kids. When families visit the farm, some of the children are scared of dogs but Molly would move really slow and the kids could pet her without a lot of jumping around. Molly loved it when people came to the farm and potluck meals were a chance to mooch off of everyone. I remember watching her take a hamburger from the hand of a disbelieving but immobile 3 year old. She just slowly and gently stole it. It was so funny to watch, I just couldn't intervene.
One of her favorite rituals was putting the horses out to pasture. Alf, my easy going gelding always is the last to leave the barn. He didn't seem to mind as Molly grabbed his tail and hung on for dear life, trying to hold him back from leaving the barn. Finally she would give up and drop the tail, smacking her lips in an effort to remove the hairs jammed between her teeth. She tried that once on a visiting horse and was tossed across the barn but its feet. This didn't slow her down from latching onto Alf's tail.
Molly had only three legs at the end of her life. She did not like having other dogs visit the farm and would not give up her alpha dog status easily. She and another dog had it out over top billing and she came out the worse for wear. The missing leg was something she adapted to but she was not able to walk up and down the rows with the horses as I cultivated anymore.
I am looking for a new dog now but they are big shoes to fill. I do miss having a companion. Molly was my shadow and company for many years and I will miss her very much. Thank you Molly.

Slow Starting Spring

I'm running out of things to do in the house, at least things I want to do. Its not that there aren't things to do outside but I just can't seem to face the weather for very long. On Monday in full sunny warm-ish weather, though, I had a great crew over and we did some MAJOR cleaning. 20 years of extra things I saved were sorted through. The horse trailer was full and went to the incinerator, (I was sure I would use those old storm windows) and the truck and car carrier took a load up to the scrap yard. It was worth $235. Now the grainery can be painted to match the barn. There is more cleaning and sorting to do but this was a great start. I couldn't have tackled it without the willing hands of so many. As the cool wet spring continues, all the work of tillage and planting that requires dry, warm soil gets compressed into a smaller and smaller window. I can wish it were warm but that doesn't make it so. Putting seeds and potatoes in the cold wet ground can be counter productive. Luckily I have the hoop houses covered and the soil will dry out in there and be ready soon for some early plantings. The greenhouse is a nice refuge and is bursting with young plants and the possibilities of a great bounty later in the summer. We started tomato plants earlier this year and they are looking amazing. Its full though and the onion plants are temporarily on the floor waiting for the snow showers to pass.

Cold Winter Mornings

I woke up to a very cold morning. I don't know the exact temperature but I look at two things, the needles on the big white pine by the kitchen and the frost on the old basement door. When condensation is frozen to the highest part of the panes, then it is at least 10 below zero. The needles on the pine squeeze closer together the colder it is and they are held together this morning like the ... well, (insert your favorite metaphor here). I wonder why someone would want to move here. Yet everything is glittery with ice crystals and life is somehow distilled in the winter to the essentials, dealing with water, staying warm, cutting wood, relaxing by the fire visiting with friends. Each day dawns with a list of things to do, some more critical, some less. The chair by the fire is alluring and writing an email instead of figuring out my new year's bank balance and starting a new quicken account wins out.

When I go out to the barn on these mornings, each animal emerges from its warm place. The cats come stretching, from a nook in the hay bales where they have made a warm nest; the pigs heave themselves out from the piles of hay and the horses just stand, oblivious of the cold in their warm coats and compact bodies. Fjord horses have extra short, thick ears that make me feel warm just looking at them. The chickens sit with all their feathers fluffed out like miniature feather beds, their toes tucked under, protected. They rise and shake out the warm air and get about the business of eating. Fresh water is welcomed and they each come up, ducking their heads and then rising the let the cold water run down their throats. The rooster makes a throaty clucking to alert the hens to the left over beans I have scattered on the floor.

I rise the same way, sliding out from under the cozy feather comforter. The area of warmth around the wood stove is smaller as the outside cold encroaches. The clothes on the floor of my little bedroom are cold but I am still warm from the bed and the cotton long johns feel refreshing. There is an order to do things to get the house up and going. Open the air control knob on the stove and watch the coals leap to life. As they glow, I head to the bathroom, stopping to run water in the bucket to fill the big kettle on the wood stove. Back I come, gathering up the bucket and adding to my hot water supply. I turned off my hot water heater a few weeks ago, wondering what that would be like. So far, not too bad. I carry water to the kitchen sink to do dishes. Putting my hands in cold water just doesn't cut it and grease is easier to dissolve with some heat. I use much less water this way and it is not hard. I don't shower a lot in the winter anyway and pouring water over my head covers me in large bursts of hot water that a shower doesn't offer. Clothes are OK washed in cold water.

Last year I used my electric baseboard heaters as supplement heat to the wood stove but not this year. For my own feeling of security, I want to know what its like to just have the wood. Not bad with just me here, but would someone else sharing my house think I was crazy? Am I crazy or is the rest of the consuming-world mad? 100 species go extinct each day. Polar bears, the poster children of Global Climate Change, are drowning. The little part of me that is desperate about this feels good about the wood stove heated water but am I crazy? I have a life that lends itself to this eccentricity. I have time in the winter, I don't have a job outside the house. I don't have to have clothes, hair and makeup a certain way to pass in the "outside world." A basic, simple life is good in theory, I am testing how it is for real.

Letter to the Editor I wrote and sent to the local newspaper and the Eau Claire Leader Telegram:

Dear Readers,

An important election is coming up and we are barraged by too many ads with throwaway lines and attacks. Most of us are feeling the pinch of the declining economy, which has for many decades funneled wealth to the few in amounts not seen since just before the great depression. We are scared and we are uncertain and this makes us angry. We want to blame someone. There are walls of deception that those controlling the wealth and power have used through out history to shield themselves from attacks and accountability. These walls are composed of the latest minority who can be blamed for our ills. We are turned against each other while the controlling system and those who occupy the seats of power watch the puppet show from a safe distance. Don’t be confused and misled. Historically those in power have blamed ethnic minorities, a certain religious group such as Jews or Catholics, even the Amish. Now we blame our black President, Jews and Muslims, politicians, the poor, gay people, immigrants, or anyone at hand who is different. While it is true that angry, confused people want to harm us, much of the rhetoric is part of the shield for the rich.

The human spirit at its core is generous and kind. We ALL want our children, community and friends to do well and be happy. We want meaningful work and close connections with people. I don’t think the government can provide us those things, but I know they can take them away by confusing and dividing us, by pointing out our differences instead seeing what we have in common. Many of the political ads say that our taxes are too high and that if we could just lower our taxes, life would go better. I would be happy to pay 30% of my income in taxes if I knew that this money went to providing good, preventative health care, building an infrastructure based on renewable energy, supporting our troops to defend against people who are confused about us and making sure our children have a good education and a healthy, safe life and much more. I am able bodied and can work. I am willing to share what I make so that we can all have a shot at a satisfying life. I am not very willing to share when the money goes to fund politicians backed by large greedy corporations, wars that are unjustified or subsidies for wildly profitable oil companies. We have been given the message that if we just buy enough things we will be happy. How is that going for you?

When you are asked to support candidates that say they will protect you from “them”, or “those people” who are to blame for all of the mess, make sure you are not just hearing the echoes from the wall of protection around the rich and powerful. These are knives that cut and divide us. People who do the real work, grow the food and educate our children, care for our elderly and collect our garbage, milk our cows and catch our fish, make our clothes and fix our power lines, process our turkeys and fix our cars, drive our buses and cook our food, make our music, keep our libraries, keep track of our checking accounts, cut our hair, harvest our fields, publish our newspapers and sell us food, these are the people who produce the real wealth and make our community strong. Even the rich, who so desperately cling to their false security just want the same things for their children and the world. They are just so confused and scared that they can’t think. Don’t be confused too.

Sincerely,

Kate Stout

My cool new tool, a flail mower. We are taking down some sorgum-sudan grass.

Inventions

I love inventing things. It is one of the rewarding challenges that comes with my job and life. Recently I have been perfecting my solar shower. Last year, I had one in the greenhouse that was heated by filling a large coil of black plastic irrigation tubing with water. One end goes into a bucket and the other is attached to the cold water. When I am ready for a shower, I turn on the faucet and it pushes the hot water into the bucket. The bucket is suspended overhead and a toilet flapper lets out the water in a satisfying WHOOSH when you pull a string. This provides enough water for a long-ish shower. The drawback was that as soon as the sun went down, or if it clouded up at the end of the day, boom, no hot water.
The water in my new system thermosyphons into the bucket and it can be insulated. As water warms, it expands, causing it to rise. It has to go up in a continuously rising tube to work. One of my goals with this shower is to use parts and hardware that can be purchased at Fleet farm. Two black garden hoses are connected and provide the heating surface. In the picture, you can see the shadow of the heated water reflected on the bottom of the bucket. The jury is out on whether the volume of the hoses will be enough to heat the volume of the bucket, I'll keep you posted. I built the shower stall but my friend Mark Olson did the decorative joists on the top.

Riding the Rhythm

There is a quiet turning point that happens near the end of June; a moment when there is an easing of the frenzy of the past two months. It feels like the small relaxation that comes with the sound of the rain on the leaves when it has been dry. I am almost at that moment with the farm. Most of the cover crops are up but not ready to plow under. Most of the vegetable plants are in the ground. Most of the seeds are planted and the successions have been set up. The fall broccoli is planted and up. There is more to do, there is always more to do, but it seems manageable now and I can relax a just little.

The plants have started their own move towards maturity and can survive a certain amount of insect damage. Sure, the potatoes need to be sprayed with Entrust to kill the bugs who can strip the plants in a week, but the rest are getting on with the business of thriving. The first few deliveries have been made and the number of bags at the drop sites has solidified and is set. Now I can ride the rhythm of the summer's beat: deliver, harvest, plant, weed. It pulls me along instead of me pushing it into place.

There are still the emergencies that call for extra attention, the sick animal or the missed bag, but most of it has begun to roll along and I can just hang on for the thrilling ride.

Here we go!

The recent rains have the vegetables springing out of the ground. There is a delicate balance between rains and dry periods for vegetable growth and weed management. In my large garden(4 acres), I have the best luck with weed control when I can get into the garden with the horse-drawn cultivator. This marvel of engineering digs up the weeds and leaves them to wither on the surface of the soil. Wither when the soil is dry. When it is damp, followed with a rain, they are just replanted. Tilling the soil when it is too wet causes soil compaction.

When it is dry and I am desperate for rain, I scan the forecast eagerly for any sign of rain. As soon as it has rained enough, I look with equal urgency for a dry spell to transplant, seed and cultivate. I would rather have it on the wet side though than dry. Hand weeding is always an option although slower and more costly. Its all a trade off because more moist soil makes pulling weeds easier.

New technology enters our lives as a marvel and quickly seems indispensable. I scan the radar like an oracle and try and project the movement of the storm cells. Its doesn't affect the outcome, but I am addicted none the less.

Right now I am thankful for the moisture and cooler temperatures. Within days and sometimes hours, I will be wondering when it will dry out so I can get some work done!

Roller Coaster Spring

What a long and wonderful spring it has been. I am almost dizzy from the ups and down in the temperature. I farm to a rhythm that I have internalized after many years. When the weather runs counter to the beat, it is difficult. Ironically, having a longer spring makes me feel behind when actually I am ahead.

I have had time to plow with the horses and get used to my new mare, Molly. She is doing well. We have planted peas and oats as a cover crop that will be used for plow-down to add fertility to the soil. When it was warm in April, I kept saying to myself that it was going to get cold, all the while not believing it. The snow flakes coming down on May 8 made me feel a little smug that I hadn't planted out more crops that could have frozen. The last frost date in our area is around the end of May. When cold air drops down out of Canada, there's no arguing.

Baby!!!

Mingo had her calf today, March 30. We had been waiting, each night proclaiming that the time was at hand. Finally she went into labor and produced the baby in less than an hour. I thought that she was due the end of February but I was only off by a month! Ironic then, that I won the baby pool within 5 minutes. I guessed March 30 at 5:00 p.m. and Mingo's calf was born at 4:55. The baby is a beautiful chocolate brown. Mother and baby are in the barn in a roomy box stall. I called Darrel, the former owner for some pointers of dealing with a new mom. It is nice that this time she will be able to keep her calf at her side. We will try letting the calf drink and milking her too. Right now her udder is so big, it might have milk for the whole town. Milk fever is something you have to watch in new bovine mothers and sheep too. When too much calcium goes into their milk production, the muscles don't have enough and they can get stiff to the point of not being able to move. You can avoid this by not stimulating milk production with rich food and not milking her out all the way. I will try this and keep a close eye on her.

What a fine Udder

Mingo, my 11 year old jersey cow is going to freshen, or give birth very soon. She is due according to her breeding date around March 8. Each day her udder has been growing and filling. This is called "bagging up." I expect it to fill out more until she begins to drip a little milk and then I will really watch her closely. Being on baby alert is nice because it gets you out of bed in the middle of the night. Sounds crazy I know, but the stars are really vivid around 2:00 a.m. and I feel very peaceful heading out to the barn to check on things. I have learned a lot since I came to Wisconsin in 1981. I didn't know any terms for cow pregnancy like "freshen", "springing" or "bagging up". One day Gary Faulkner, whose farm I was visiting for the summer, told me to go out and see if any of the cows were "pulling". Not wanting to seem ignorant, I decided to go out and see if any of the cows was pulling anything. I looked. They were all standing around like normal. I didn't see any pulling. I ducked back into the barn and reported that all was quiet. Gary stuck his head out of the door and saw one of the heifers mounting another one who stood still and waited. "Well there's one bulling right now," he said. Oh, BULLING. Thus began my education about cows calving and just one of the many terms that I would become so familiar with.

New horses at the farm

I have been working horses for 29 years ever since I first learned when I came to Wisconsin in 1981. It must be a real relationship because there have been hard times and great times. It is the best when it is at the center of what I do and commit time to. Like many relationships, as the thrill wore off, it has been put aside as other needs pushed in and took the attention. Several times I have considered getting out of the horse business and just using tractors.

One of my mares, Tora is now 23 years old. I bought Tora when she was 5 years old and broke her to work in only a few days. She has always been my smartest and most reliable horse. She can still work, but her feet hurt and she is over weight. I feel lost thinking of working horses without her but it is time to add new animals or stop with the horses altogether. With this in mind, I began to look for new horses. Perhaps, I thought, I should get a different kind of horse. I went and looked at some that the Amish had. Compared with my Fjord horses, they all looked big and awkward. Then I realized that to get horses I really like to work with, I would have to break them myself.

About this time, I learned of a herd of Fjord horses that had belonged to Betty Davidson. Betty had died tragically in a farm accident and all of her horses were for sale. In early December I went and looked at the horses. They were in need of a little attention but one stood out, Molly, an 8 year old mare. In another pasture were the weanling filly colts. All out of the same sire, they looked remarkably similar. I had not come with any intention to get babies but the group was so nice. Two of the fillies broke away from the bunch and approached tentatively. One particularly was very friendly and unfazed. They did not have names but were distinguished by number tags on chains. I fell in love with 13 and 15.

I called Betty's daughter Bev and said that I wanted Molly and the two fillies. I picked them up on December 23 and have not had a single regret. I have christened the two new fillies as Binna (female bear in Norwegian) and Snorri. They are learning about being tied up and having their feet handled. Molly will undergo some training when things warm up in February and I have the time.

It feels like the right time to recommit to working horses. The best days on my farm were when both the horses and I worked in a regular rhythm. I can't imagine my farm without these wonderful teddy bear horses.

Water Without Electricity

Water freezes. Of course, this is obvious, but to someone raised in California, it still comes as somewhat of a surprise. Making sure that animals have water in the winter is an ongoing challenge. In the summer, I use lots of water from the barn to water and wash vegetables as well as water the animals. In winter, the amount is cut back to around 30 gallons a day.

In the barn, water comes from a sand point. This is a 1 1/2 inch pipe driven up to 25 feet into the ground with a sieve on the end. When the pipe reaches a shallow aqua fer, the water is pumped up. In summer, a jet pump attached to a pressure tank does a great job. In winter, this above ground system has to be insulated and kept warm. I have done that with insulation and light bulbs. Slowly the ground freezes outside the insulated box and creeps under the edge. Often the pump comes close to freezing or actually cracks.

This year I have a hand pump that lifts the water from the ground. When the pumping is finished, the water drops back below the frost line. While the pump above ground freezes, it has no water in it, and a quart of warm water poured in loosens the leather seal and primes the pump. Pumping water by hand is hard work for your arms and back. I have set up this pump using pulleys, rope, a bungee cord and two boards to be powered with feet and legs. Instead of working out in the house, I pump water in the barn. This new pump not only lifts water to the level of the handle, a common feature of many hand pumps, but it can push it up hill further. There is a hose on the pump that goes up into the hay mow and then goes outside to the stock tank. This allows the hose to drain when I am done pumping and it doesn't freeze. I can fill a medium stock tank in about 20 minutes on stepping.

New Animals

New animals have joined the menagerie at the farm. Never willing to leave well enough alone, this spring we have a new kitten, a cow, two new fjord horses, three piglets and some baby chickens.

Several hens went broody this spring. They sit on the eggs and refuse to move. We set two on eggs in their own little boxes apart from the rest. The hens would have nothing to do with a traditional family, they wanted to share a house. 21 days later the two mothers emerged with 3 chicks that they have been happily co-rearing. They are growing quickly and doing well. Another hen started a batch and should be hatching a few more soon. Having already ordered chicks through the mail who arrived on May 15, we now have lots of new pullets that will begin laying eggs this fall. That will bring the total laying flock to about 25. Many of my hens are Buff Orpingtons and some of the new chicks are Buff roosters. This means that when hens set next spring, the offspring will be pure bred. I want to maintain an older breed to help with genetic diversity.

With the arrival of the new cow, I realized again that most of my life has been a creation of early dreams of having a farm. Flamingo (I didn't name her) came from my neighbor who milks 90 jerseys. She is milking on 3 quarters. After a somewhat rocky adjustment period of homesickness, she has decided that North Creek isn't a bad place. Every morning and night she comes in and willingly lets us hand milk out a gallon of fresh, foamy milk. The sound of the milk streams hitting the pail is very satisfying. She is easy to milk and hasn't kicked once. I bought her a red collar and a bell to complete the picturesque scene. The milk is piling up but we have made butter, yogurt and some mozzarella worthy of handball equipment. I think it will melt on pizza given a high enough temperature. The pigs are happy about the new cow and get feed soaked in buttermilk, skim milk or whey everyday.

The new fjords arrived though a complicated labyrinth of connections with Amish and horses I had raised years ago. Buck, also known as "the brut" and Bubba is a very large overweight fjord horse who makes my other equine look possitively svelt. Bruce, who is now known as Jack is normal sized and a bit scatter brained. Neither has been worked consistantly and are in the process of building muscle and experience. It continues to be hard to find the time to do the horse work when I have a tractor but the times I get out with the horses is rewarding. A new corn planter will add an excuse to harness them. Horses work best when they are used regularly.

Sweaty Math

Thinking about Peak Oil is one thing and acting on it is another. In his "Crash Course," Chris Martenson talks about the human labor embedded in one gallon of gasoline.* My chain saw uses about a quart of gas per hour. "Sure," I thought, "I could use a cross-cut saw." The big pine woods of Wisconsin were cleared primarily with axes and cross-cut saws after all. I borrowed a saw from a friend and went to work. Half an hour later, I had cut enough wood for 24 hours of winter stove heat. My chain saw could have cut all of the small log pile with 1 quart of gas. It will take me at least 4 1/2 more hours of hand sawing. If gas cost $20 a gallon, it would still be only $5 for the quart of gas that could cut up all the wood. I'd like to "earn" $10 an hours for sawing. At 5 hours of work, that would be $50. The $5 of gas for my chain saw gets pretty insignificant with this in mind.This is the capitalist way to look at it though.

Another way to look at it is my health and the environment's health. Monday, Wednesday and Friday, I drive to the High School and work out with weights. Sawing the wood, I felt parts of my body I am not as familiar with. Half an hour of sawing a day could put me in good shape. It worked many muscles, core, back, arms and even legs. I was breathing hard too so the cardio is covered. It could also put me in the chiropractor's office. Jury is out on this. I'll let you know in the morning. Sawing by hand is very immediate and real. The old adage that heating with wood heats you four times, when you cut it, when you split it, when you bring it to the stove and when you burn it. This wood has already really warmed me. It was quieter and meditative. It's also just plain hard work.

I put a hand pump in the barn this winter to water the animals. It was such a romantic, nostalgic idea. Its also just plain hard work. The horses drink a lot of water. Many more energy savings ideas and I will be in good shape or just tired. Doing these trial runs of energy savings showed the relative value of gasoline to get hard work done.

Saving a trip to the store 30 miles away seems more important when the two gallons of gas saved could cut 40 hours of my labor's worth of wood for heating. I have made a commitment to cut wood each day this week and see how it feels. With gas at only $2 a gallon, it seems foolish but it brings into focus the amazing qualities of gasoline.
*www.chrismartenson.com/crashcourse

Signs of Spring

Signs of spring appear as the weather warms: a few more birds, interest in basketball and eggs. The chickens very accurately measure the day length and perk up. Suddenly after a long dry spell, there are eggs again. At first just one, a fluke? No, now each day there are 5-7 eggs. Chores much more pleasant with these small gifts. I put them in my pocket and try to remember they are there before an enthusiastic disrobing ends up with a wet, gooey pocket. Already the eggs are building up and I will have something else to barter. I am hoping that several of the Buff Orpingtons will get broody and that there will be some chicks this spring. I have tried doing them in the incubator but the hens know just when to turn the eggs so that they hatch. [These wonderful pictures are again taken by my talented mother, Meredith. Thanks mom!]

Optimistic Bread

Basic things really are reassuring. Comfort food took on a new meaning this afternoon as I took a loaf of fresh bread from the oven. It was not just any bread. It was home made. In it was an egg from my chickens honey from my neighbors freshly ground wheat from another neighbor It was very very good. Renee Bartz came over the day before to use my fanning mill. A fanning mill is a wonderful Dr. Suess machine that removes chaff, grasshopper parts, weed seeds and other "extras" from grain. A big grin covered Renee's face as she cranked the handle on the machine and out of one shoot came the un-thrashed heads of wheat, another the weed seeds, another the light, broken wheat, and into the bottom hopper came the wheat. In exchange I got a zip lock back of wheat kernels. I put them in my electric mill and into the hopper poured the flour. The metal burrs of the grinder heated the wheat but its smell was wonderful. Right then and there I whipped up a loaf of bread. This bread is comfort food in the best sense of the word. It made me know that I could have the best bread possible using resources close to my farm. Living on the farm, I know that I can feed myself and many others if necessary. Right now all I have to worry about is how to not eat the whole, warm loaf with the butter soaking into the bread... drooling?

Maybe it could be better....

Rob Hopkins, who started the Transition Town Movement, says, "It is possible that life with less energy will be better." I like that idea, its hopeful. Hope is a word that has gotten a lot of use recently and that's a good thing. Looking towards a life with less energy, I want to have hope. One of the places that I have found hope is in this little animated film by Frederic Back called "Crac!". Its a French Canadian film that celebrates their traditions but also the community of people who lived with less energy. Enjoy.