The Swine Are Fine

Ladies and gentlemen, it's official: this must be a farm, because we now have pigs.

Farmer Fin picked up these little piggies on Memorial Day. They were just eight weeks old. It's always a weird relationship with animals we know will be meat one day. Our job is just to keep them happy and healthy for the duration of their tenancy here. They are fascinating creatures. The first thing the girl pig did at her new home was root up a pretty big snake and bite its head off. Unlike the goats, they like to sleep late, and they never ever pee in their house. Their house is a luxurious A-frame and they have a nice little set-up near the top of the hill, food and water and delicacies like the whey from cheesemaking, and they seem pretty content with it most of the time.

Most of the time. Not always. Seems they're pretty curious about the world in general. Smart too. They figured out before we did that the solar charger for the electric fence was no longer carrying a charge after a few rainy days. By the time we got all the kid goats back in their pasture and the new charger hooked up, those piglets were gone. Slipped right under the bottom strand of the perimeter fence and into the (endlessly fascinating) forest. 

Farmer Fin saw them outside the northwestern edge of the fence line. The chase was on. We crept through the forest for about a half mile when, slightly past the verge of giving up and becoming responsible for a new feral pig infestation (or just a tasty treat for coyotes or a fisher), I spotted them, all snuggled up beneath the branches of a fallen tree. I whistled for Farmer Fin, and he slowly approached.

On the count of three, we each lunged for a leg, and fortuitously managed to grab them at the same time. The squealing was unearthly, and also loud as hell. It continued as we, each with 30 pounds of screaming, thrashing piglet grasped tightly in our arms, began the hike back over rough, marshy, unmarked terrain towards where I figured the pigpen was. 

Finally we reached the pen and deposited the piggies there. The piglets curled up in their house and went right to sleep, all tuckered out after their adventure. We humans were pretty worn out too.

But, you know, after the rain, the rainbow. The bruise on FF's jaw will fade, feeling will return to my arms, and someday all we will have is bacon and memories. Bacon and memories.

This Double Rainbow Is Actually From Last Week

New Month, New Pasture

Happy First of June! It sure feels like summer here. We celebrated by moving the goat pasture again. They are loving all the lush, juicy grass. Look at all those goats!

Om Nom Nom 

Little Juno, Chowing Down

High Winds, Small Calamities

There was a high wind warning out on Thursday. Evidently there were some particularly strong gusts from the west between the hours of 3:00 PM, when Bird and I walked past the goat yard on our afternoon constitutional, and 4:30, when I went up the hill with some hay and grain and saw this:

At first I thought the wind had ripped the roof off the shed. Then I realized that the shed had actually flipped over, twice, onto its roof. Amazingly, the goats were all okay. They must have been crowded on the other side of the pasture, waiting for me to come up with their grain ration. Notice, in the photo above, that they are chowing down as though their house is not upside-down right behind them.

This shed is the older and larger of the two. We built it the year we got Violet and Pansy, and then Juniper and Sassafras, in the spring of 2010. It was like our second carpentry project. Since then we have dragged it all over the hill: three summers and at least three dozen moves. So we were not sure what it would look like if we were able to get it back round again. Farmer Fin bought a high lift jack at Agway, and our trusty friend Dan headed up to help out. While he waited, Fin jacked up the shed.

Safety first! FF wedged the goats' wire spools underneath the raised section of the shed. He was later informed by our dear and knowledgeable degenerate mechanic friend that this form of ingenuity is known as the "Alabama Jack Stand." 

A blizzard arose as FF worked the come-along to get the shed onto its side. It was a pretty hairy ten minutes (or so I heard; I was actually at the day job).

By the time Dan got here and I got home from work, Farmer Fin had successfully flipped it once. I tried to distract the goats while the menfolk used the truck and the come-along and various lengths of rope to flip it again. Amazingly, the structure survived with minimal damage - some cracked siding and one torn-off roof panel, now repaired. All told, it took about three hours of patient work to restore what a gust of wind upset in a few seconds. But all's well that ends well.

January Thaw

The barn reached another major milestone: it's all closed in. We built and hung the hayloft doors last weekend, when it was unseasonably, snow-meltingly warm. First the west side:

Then the east side:

The goats liked the little thaw. I think they feel better when they can see some grass. Miss Jasmine (AKA Gremily) got a pretty new pink collar too. What a beauty!

Happy Holidays

Happy holidays from the land of plenty. Plenty of cat:

Plenty of jars:

Plenty of pit bull cousins passed out in front of the fire:

Plenty of snow:

Luckily, the barn doors were on just in the (Saint) Nick of time! We here at the farm hope your dark season is warm and merry and bright.

Did I Miss Something?

Oh right, November. What can I say? I was working off the farm (like, for wages) and I kind of forgot about the farm blog. Acknowledging that I still owe the blog some attention, a few highlights:

The Annual Ethel Kamin Memorial Jell-O Mold

Best Use for Leftover Stuffing: Put an Egg On It

Fireside Dogbed Snuggle Times

Farmyard Snuggle Times...or a Two-Headed Goat

Here's hoping for a bloggier December.

Enjoying Fall While It Lasts (Before We Get Dumped On)

Bittersweet time, October. You know the snow's going to fly eventually, but not when, or how much, or for how long. So you prepare for winter, stacking firewood and changing out the storm windows and stocking the pantry and all. These logs came from our property, which is kind of satisfying.

At the same time, though, there's a little bit of summer still hanging on. Every tomato you eat might be the last one. This was certainly the last ratatouille of the year. It's nice to have the oven on for six hours on a chilly autumn day when you're too stubborn to admit that it's probably time to turn on the heat.

The goats are enjoying what remains of their time on pasture, with a few crunchy fall leaves thrown in for variety.

 They stay warm by eating all day and snuggling all night. Sounds like a pretty good life, doesn't it?