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?