Spring time progress

Spring is a time of beginnings on the farm. The first ducklings have finally hatched. Chicks are scratching in the dirt, following their mother's lead. The baby turkeys are performing turkey ballet in their barn stall, running and semi-flying, chasing flies. Entertaining to watch. And the goat kids are growing fast, romping and playing together as they follow the herd on pasture. Pretty pastoral. Almost easy to forget all the work that goes into creating this scene. But well worth the effort.

Last night's dinner was proof, all from the garden -- turnips disguised as mashed potatoes, with shredded homemade mozzarella melted on top; sliced beats in a dijon vinagrette; a salad of sliced carrot and snow peas; and a whole Chinese cabbage wilted in chicken broth with sauted onions and garlic. Dessert was homemade applesauce. A meatless dinner, but chicken, duck or eggs could have been added. A wonderful feeling to produce your own food.

Much has been planted: potatoes, onions, celery, carrots, garlic, lettuce, eggplant, tomatoes, peppers, swiss chard, turnips, spinach, snow peas, artichokes, asparagus, cabbage, beets, kale, radishes and corn. Still more to get in the ground, but time is elusive. And the orchard is finally showing progress with apple, pear and tiny cherries appearing on trees. The elderberry flowers have given way to small berries, the strawberry patch is prolific and the blackberries are covered in green berries, waiting to blacken.

Spare moments during the day turn goat milk into cheese -- cottage, feta, mozzarella, chevre and a white cheddar. I'm still learning the craft, but each production gets a little closer to just right.

Laundry hanging on the line, taking in the sun's rays, makes me think about the other "solar" projects I want to accomplish. Food security is just one part of this equation. The as yet unbuilt house still simmers in my thoughts, not quite done. But the barn is built. The animals have sturdy shelter. And Argosy is truly looking like a farm.

First hoophouse strawberry

Entering the hoophouse at this time of year nearly always brings a new discovery. This morning it was the first strawberry of the season just three days before the spring equinox. The plants are laden with blossoms which means I'll soon be eating fresh berries and putting up preserves.

Other plants are also thriving: spinach, mustard greens, several lettuce varieties, radishes and bok choy. Snow peas are doing well and hope to see peas soon.

Bucket o' Babies

What do you do when seven goat babies won't follow their moms out of the barn to pasture? Load 'em up in a wheelbarrow and give them a ride. Hopefully this won't become their preferred method of travel, but sure beats loading a baby under each arm out to the field. Shown in photo are the four doelings: Pepper, Clover, Java, Ginger; and three bucklings: Brennus, Duncan and Rob Roy.

First kid of the season

After two days of wet and cold weather, the first kid of the season waited to arrive until temps hit a "balmy" 58F. Thank goodness. Jalapena delivered one healthy girl, as yet unnamed, right after lunch today.

Dervaes Assimilated by "the Borg"

For some time now, I've followed the progress of the Dervaes Family of Pasadena as they've taken a small house in the city and turned it into a productive homestead. How cool. Until today, I had them listed as a link worth checking out.

Change.org is reporting that the Dervaes Institute has filed trademarks on the terms "urban homestead" and "urban homesteading", followed by letters to anyone using those terms requiring attribution to the Dervaes Institute. How disappointing. And what bunk.

The tragedy of industrial agriculture

Our food system is broken. The inputs required to operate the industrial agricultural system aren't sustainable. Gas, diesel and propane to run farm equipment. Petroleum to make the chemical fertilizers required because the soil is depleted of nutrients. Nothing brings all this home for me more than seeing the elements of industrial agriculture clustered all in one place.

Because I'm a "farmer in training", I try to take every opportunity to attend seminars, presentations, lectures and courses -- anything that might help me increase my knowledge and hone my skills. Naively, I drove to Raleigh today to attend The Southern Farm Show. I should have known better. The fairgrounds were packed with visitors, all there to see every piece of farm equipment you can image. Tractors so large that ladders are required to reach what amounts to a second story cab. Chemical concoctions to boost production and kill pests. Every accessory you'd need if you were running a "factory farm" or concentrated animal feeding operation (CAFO). It was an industrial ag extravaganza. And miles away from the smallscale, but sustainable route I'm trying to achieve.


Which brings me to a book I recently purchased. Fatal Harvest, edited by Andrew Kimbrell, studies the question of "how and why has agriculture, an endeavor that for millennia involved intimate knowledge of and profound respect for nature and place, become so industrialized that it's wreaking havoc all around the world?" The book provides side-by-side photo comparisons of industrial ag versus agrarian-based agricultural systems and poignantly demonstrates not only how unsustainable industrial ag is, but also how hazardous it is to Earth and her inhabitants.

Rain, rain, go away...

Last night's rainstorm left buckets of standing water around the construction site so there was no work on the barn today, although the ducks enjoyed splashing around the water-filled post holes. In the meantime, the building supply company brought in another load of lumber and prompty got stuck. I had to start up the tractor, which had been sitting idle during the cold months, to give the truck a push. It worked, but the truck left large gashes in the mud, which did nothing to add to the rough landscape left by winter's chill. I can't wait for spring.


In the mood for love
The cow was all doe-eyed and adoring this morning when I took her hay. After she rose up on her hind legs and tried to come over the fence, I was pretty sure it was time to call Mr. Hall, the AI guy. For months I've been watching for signs that she was in heat, but they aren't always straight-forward clues. Her first year, she'd bellow for hours - generally the early morning hours. Followed by several hours of jumping up on her shed. But she was too young to breed.

Mr. Hall has been doing cattle artificial insemination (AI) in the county for 52 years. He says I shouldn't get my hopes up as it may take another try. And we won't know for several weeks whether this first session "took". Having cow bred: Another "first" to add to my list.