The season has started to change and I am so looking forward to fall. Summer was a scorcher. It burned up all the tomato plants in the test garden and the zucchini there had made as much as it was going to make. This morning, I cleaned out the test garden and readied it for fall planting with the help of my trusty neighbor ranchhand.
After clearing out all the vines and dead plants and placing them in the compost pile, Angelica and I piled on some extra goat bedding. The bedding will, over time, decompose and create rich earth loaded with water absorbing humus. This was the main reason I wanted goats. They are my compost and fertilizer makers.
Farmer G and I planted garlic bulbs, dill, cabbage, okra, and onion seeds. The only remaining plants in the test garden from summer are the green chiles, a few basil bushes, and one cucumber vine that may or may not survive.
Next is the pumpkin patch which had really been planted way too early in the season. We harvested all the pie pumpkins and a couple of gourds from the vines. There are still some good vines left that I will mulch around and then set in some new seeds to try for pumpkins in October--perfect for Halloween carving.
I have an order in to Johnny's Seeds for larger jack-o-lantern size pumpkin seeds. The giant vines are still going, but I haven't seen any fruit on them yet. I'm still crossing my fingers we might get one massive monster to carve.
The pumpkin patch needs a better border. I have one determined hen that escapes the pen and I find her each morning turning the soil all around the patch and on the sides of every path, making a big ol' mess!
A little family run farm based on the principals of permaculture. We work with the land to conserve water and revitalize the desert while growing produce to feed ourselves and others. Follow us to learn more...
Monday, September 5, 2011
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Look Who's All Grown Up
When I first saw Jorge as a baby next door, I actually wondered where the heck he came from. I knew Angelica had two does, but no one was sure that Pepper was pregnant. She hid him well until the day he popped out. He was a cute little fella and he grew up fast.
I bought him because I felt sorry for him when I was having a particularly bad day. He was all alone and crying every time I drove by. It was pretty pitiful. When I got him over to the ranch, all the other goats took pleasure in wailing on the poor, little guy. He ended up living with the two ladies closest to his age and eventual grown size, Vanilla and Canella as well as all the sheep. Until the day Lucky the Ram decided he was the big boss and started battling with Jorge. I have been told sheep hit differently than goats and can kill a goat if they tag him just right. So, Jorge has been in solitary confinement in the back pen that adjoins the lady goats area. He has his own pallet mansion and never has to fight over food. The scenery is particularly nice if you're a male goat. He gets daily love and attention from me because I really can't resist his cuteness. He thrives on pets and scratches and conversations about how handsome he is.
It was his turn today for a hoof trim this morning, so I led him from his pen to the stanchion. I have to take him through the area where the lady goats are. He waggled his tongue at them and made his special moaning noises. He's turning into a manly goat. If you've never been around male goats (bucks) here's something you should be aware of. They have a special scent that attracts the females and it's musky and strong. Farmer C calls it the "stench of awesomeness" and Jorge is starting to bear it. If you pet a buck, that scent gets in your skin and doesn't wash off very easily. It might well be with you through several hand washings. Most people find the stench of awesomeness offputting, especially on a hot summer day when it's overly ripe. The scent glands are located behind his horns. He always wants me to scratch him right there, too.
Bucks also do something else lovely to woo the ladies of their kind. They urinate on their faces, drink their pee, and curl their upper lip. Oh so attractive. It's a good thing he was bottle raised and super friendly, and that he loves attention and has puppy dog eyes of cuteness.
I have learned I have to be careful when I take him for leash walks as sometimes he gets excited and the stream just shoots willy-nilly all over the place. One learns to step aside quickly in such scenarios!
He has not shown any signs of aggresiveness toward me or other people, but finally he's able to hold his own in the goat world. He stood up to Tsica this morning when I had to take him back to his area. The only other goat that doesn't take her bossiness is Mojo.
I guess this means everything he's got going on back there is in good working order so far.
| Jorge waiting for his pedicure. |
| Jorge checking out what he's got going on back there... |
Bucks also do something else lovely to woo the ladies of their kind. They urinate on their faces, drink their pee, and curl their upper lip. Oh so attractive. It's a good thing he was bottle raised and super friendly, and that he loves attention and has puppy dog eyes of cuteness.
I have learned I have to be careful when I take him for leash walks as sometimes he gets excited and the stream just shoots willy-nilly all over the place. One learns to step aside quickly in such scenarios!
| Not an udder. |
I guess this means everything he's got going on back there is in good working order so far.
Friday, September 2, 2011
The Test Cow
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| Test Cow |
After a while, I kind of gave up on the whole crazy idea. My trusty ranchhand neighbor girl and I stacked the corral panels away for another
We received an email from one of our restauarnt customers wanting to know if we were still searching for a family milk cow. Leery of a looming, giant cow of doom that could stare down at me and be a little scary I asked: what kind, how big, where at? Details. I needed to know more. But I wasn't getting my hopes up.
Turns out she is a Jersey.
Immediately I'm thinking EEK! HUGE COW! I don't know if I can handle a huge cow. When I was seven years old and fearless, yes, I could have. But not now that I'm all grown up and have more sense in my head.
We went to see her anyway.
It felt like fate, karma, the magic of the universe pulling together to bring us the cow we had longingly searched for. Happy, excited, and a little scared we piled into the truck and headed out for this new and wonderful adventure.
| Until we got lost. |
| And lost again. |
| And even more lost.... |
Frustrated, tired, fearful that this whole journey might be some sort of wild goose chase, we almost turned back and gave up. But the lady came to to find
We got to pet her, and rub her all over and talk to her. Gucci is soft. She was taken to the stanchion so we could see her damaged teat and inspect her and learn about her. My husband kept saying she's not that big. I agreed. She was a good size. Not a goat size, not a gigantic Holstein size. And then she took her fly mask off. And everyone said, "Aaaaaaaaw." And we all fell in love with her.
| Gucci |
And we want her to come live on our ranch.
She was born at a dairy and has one bad teat--much to our good fortune because that is how she was purchased by her current owners. Dairys cull animals who are not perfect for milking. A cow with three functioning teats is just fine for a home milker not interested in showing at fairs or anything like that.
First we have to get a nice spot all ready for her.
If you have read this blog a while you'll know I like to test things before I try for real. Rocket, the visiting horse, has agreed to be my test cow. Daily, she inspects the corral area for me and lets me know what needs to be trimmed and moved out of the way. She has shown me that the goats are good entertaining company next door and the water and food are located in a convenient area.
I need to reinforce the corral panels at their junctions with t-posts. (Got those today in the back of my truck). I also need to trim off some more mesquite limbs to make room for the coming cow hotel.
It's funny how we have had this property for several years now and I never noticed before how shady and tranquil this one spot is. Rocket the Test Cow has shown me at least three good lounging spots perfectly shrouded from the sun by mesquite trees. I hope Gucci will like it here.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Being Neighborly
| Angelica and Rocket |
I have neighbors in two places. Neighbors at my house, and neighbors at the ranch where my animals live. When I first moved into this house, my new neighbors brought us plates of baked goods to welcome us here. Each year around the holidays we all exchange baked goodies. I had never had that happen before. I mean really, in this day and age, how often does something like that occur?
When we bought the land and intended to build, our neighbors came out to meet us. They were nice, they knew things about the area we didn't know, they shared their knowledge with us. They checked on us to be sure we were us and not some stranger intruding. The first time we had to milk the goats late at night in the pitch black dark by flashlight, they drove up to be sure we weren't goat thieves. They like to visit, they like to talk, and it's nice to have someone to visit and talk with from time to time. They have kids and grandkids who like to see and pet the animals. They have big dogs to chase away predators and protect my animals. They have a tractor I can hire for goat milk or eggs or produce. They have a rideable mower they run along the edges of our shared road and ditch and no one even asks them to do it. They know how to put spark plugs in itty-bitty girlie generators. They know how to tighten chainsaw chains and trim trees. They know more about animals than I do, and they are nice enough to teach me.
I have to say, I really am grateful for the neighbors we have. I check on them too. I watch their property to be sure there are no coyotes or scary things intruding. I wave at them when they drive by. I offer to help them if they need help. Above all, I try my best to just be nice.
Life is short but there is always time for courtesy. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson, Social Aims
Two weeks ago, when I was at Costco, the man in line behind me thanked me for placing the plastic divider between our orders. He commented that most people won't do that anymore, that most people won't even be nice anymore. "It doesn't cost anything to be nice," he said. Well, maybe it does; maybe it doesn't depending on the circumstances. But if everyone in the world was a little bit nicer, the world itself would certainly be a nicer place to be. We chatted a little about being nice, and I agreed with him. I have been told I am too nice, but so what? I would rather be too nice than too mean.
| Rocket - future barrel racing champion in a corral built and cleared by my beloved neighbors and a lot of sweat equity. |
If you step on people in this life, you're going to come back as a cockroach. ~Willie Davis
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Something BIG
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
An Essential Worker
Monday, August 22, 2011
Fond Father-in-Law Memories
Several days ago, my father-in-law passed away in Greece. I've been down and depressed about this, but have decided that he would want me to keep moving forward and would be happiest to know that I am enjoying life as much as possible--as he always did. Rather than write a tearful post about him, I will leave you with fond father-in-law memories that make me smile whenever I think of him.
1. I was about 18 when I met my future father-in-law. I had no idea what to expect. He was extremely small, and the day I met him, he had on no shirt and his back was all covered with gray fur. He had a decidely joyful twinkle in his eye and a smile that was simply charming. He spoke broken English but made sure, now matter how many times he had to try, that I understood what he was saying. "You 'stand? Traci, you 'stand?"
2. He liked to dress up to go to church on Sunday, and he really wanted me to go to church as well. He was the most religious man I have ever known, praying over his meals, and blessing my husband and I whenever we left the house. I remember waking up on Sunday mornings to him carrying an incense burner and leaves dipped in holy water with which to sprinkle at me and bless me, my husband, the room, and the entire house as he went along singing prayers in Greek. He often said when things were questionable or the outlook was not bright that it was up to God.
3. I like spinach. It was a dish my dad served up boiled with a little vinegar. My father-in-law made me LOVE spinach the first time I bit into a still warm piece of his homemade spanakopita (spinach pie). He had rolled out the crust himself.
4. He made the best lentil soup, hands down. No one made it like him. I watched him make it several times and have hopefully learned his tricks.
5. One time, when I was growing a garden in the backyard, he came outside to inspect. I showed him what was planted. My father-in-law loved garlic. I was happy to show him that I had some and pulled one for him. In his excitement, he peeled it and ate the whole thing like an apple, right there. He said it was delicious. But his eyes were tearing up from the heat.
6. On the nights when I came home late from college classes, he always made me "cheese special" which was his own invention of a slice of feta drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with pepper that he then microwaved. It was the best.
7. He was an extreme couponer. Every Wednesday he collected all the grocery store ads and drove all over town to get the best deal on food. Once he bought turkey for .04 cents a pound. He liked to remind me of that many times after I bought a turkey for .39 cents a pound. Forget that the turkey he bought was the size of a small chicken and mine was 20 pounds. In fact, I think we heard about the .04 cents a pound little turkey for a few years. He was very proud of that bargain.
8. I don't like fish. He never stopped trying to get me to eat fish. Being polite on his behalf, I once ate a piece of pickled fish he brought on the plane back from Greece. It had been pickled raw mind you. *gag*
9. He used to bring huge wooden crates of olive oil from Greece because it was "the best oil". He also loaded his suitcase with Greek cheeses, candies, and baked goods. Whenever he arrived here it was a feast.
10. He used to slice pieces of apple and float them in his wine after dinner.
11. He was a hard working man. My husband once told me that his father always told him: "If your butt doesn't sweat, you won't earn any money." My father-in-law and his wife could clean the whole yard up in two days after 6 months of neglect. They could work a weed-eater, leaf-blower, hoe, and any other garden tool like pros.
12. When I had my first child, my father-in-law and his wife came from Greece and stayed to take care of that baby so I could go back to work. They also renamed the baby, Andreas, after my father-in-law. And after a while, I was okay with that.
13. When I went to Greece to baptise my son, my father-in-law took me, pregnant as I was, to the local village farmer's market and bought me whatever kind of fruit I wanted, and some that I just thought looked interesting. We had a LOT of fruit.
14. My father-in-law loved me like I was his own child...and maybe more than his own son sometimes. He liked to take my side, and in arguments, he always wanted me to take his.
15. He always tried to have me explain bank statements, doctor's records, and social security statements to him, even though I do not speak much Greek at all.
16. When he came to visit this summer, he went on my weekly Costco run with me and insisted on pushing one of the carts. He wanted to go the following week as well. He never wanted to stop going and doing.
17. My father-in-law taught me how to make Greek style olives, from picking the fruit from the tree to preserving it. This summer when he visited he ate some of the olives I made and said they were delicious.
18. He liked my weak coffee better than my husband's freshly ground strong coffee.
19. He spoiled me. He spoiled my kids. If they wanted chocolate milk and there was none in the house, he'd go out to the store just to get it for them.
20. When he fell down at the ranch on his last visit and was upset that he did, I told him not to worry and said, "If you fall, I will pick you up." Luckily our 4-H neighbor girl happened by that day and we both got him into my truck safely. Sometimes we all fall down and need someone there to help us. He'll always be in my heart to help me when I fall down. He will always be remembered and loved by every person he ever knew. He loved life and enjoyed it all he could until it was time for him to go. But he will never really be gone because he lives on through every person who loved him.
1. I was about 18 when I met my future father-in-law. I had no idea what to expect. He was extremely small, and the day I met him, he had on no shirt and his back was all covered with gray fur. He had a decidely joyful twinkle in his eye and a smile that was simply charming. He spoke broken English but made sure, now matter how many times he had to try, that I understood what he was saying. "You 'stand? Traci, you 'stand?"
2. He liked to dress up to go to church on Sunday, and he really wanted me to go to church as well. He was the most religious man I have ever known, praying over his meals, and blessing my husband and I whenever we left the house. I remember waking up on Sunday mornings to him carrying an incense burner and leaves dipped in holy water with which to sprinkle at me and bless me, my husband, the room, and the entire house as he went along singing prayers in Greek. He often said when things were questionable or the outlook was not bright that it was up to God.
3. I like spinach. It was a dish my dad served up boiled with a little vinegar. My father-in-law made me LOVE spinach the first time I bit into a still warm piece of his homemade spanakopita (spinach pie). He had rolled out the crust himself.
4. He made the best lentil soup, hands down. No one made it like him. I watched him make it several times and have hopefully learned his tricks.
5. One time, when I was growing a garden in the backyard, he came outside to inspect. I showed him what was planted. My father-in-law loved garlic. I was happy to show him that I had some and pulled one for him. In his excitement, he peeled it and ate the whole thing like an apple, right there. He said it was delicious. But his eyes were tearing up from the heat.
6. On the nights when I came home late from college classes, he always made me "cheese special" which was his own invention of a slice of feta drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with pepper that he then microwaved. It was the best.
7. He was an extreme couponer. Every Wednesday he collected all the grocery store ads and drove all over town to get the best deal on food. Once he bought turkey for .04 cents a pound. He liked to remind me of that many times after I bought a turkey for .39 cents a pound. Forget that the turkey he bought was the size of a small chicken and mine was 20 pounds. In fact, I think we heard about the .04 cents a pound little turkey for a few years. He was very proud of that bargain.
8. I don't like fish. He never stopped trying to get me to eat fish. Being polite on his behalf, I once ate a piece of pickled fish he brought on the plane back from Greece. It had been pickled raw mind you. *gag*
9. He used to bring huge wooden crates of olive oil from Greece because it was "the best oil". He also loaded his suitcase with Greek cheeses, candies, and baked goods. Whenever he arrived here it was a feast.
10. He used to slice pieces of apple and float them in his wine after dinner.
11. He was a hard working man. My husband once told me that his father always told him: "If your butt doesn't sweat, you won't earn any money." My father-in-law and his wife could clean the whole yard up in two days after 6 months of neglect. They could work a weed-eater, leaf-blower, hoe, and any other garden tool like pros.
12. When I had my first child, my father-in-law and his wife came from Greece and stayed to take care of that baby so I could go back to work. They also renamed the baby, Andreas, after my father-in-law. And after a while, I was okay with that.
13. When I went to Greece to baptise my son, my father-in-law took me, pregnant as I was, to the local village farmer's market and bought me whatever kind of fruit I wanted, and some that I just thought looked interesting. We had a LOT of fruit.
14. My father-in-law loved me like I was his own child...and maybe more than his own son sometimes. He liked to take my side, and in arguments, he always wanted me to take his.
15. He always tried to have me explain bank statements, doctor's records, and social security statements to him, even though I do not speak much Greek at all.
16. When he came to visit this summer, he went on my weekly Costco run with me and insisted on pushing one of the carts. He wanted to go the following week as well. He never wanted to stop going and doing.
17. My father-in-law taught me how to make Greek style olives, from picking the fruit from the tree to preserving it. This summer when he visited he ate some of the olives I made and said they were delicious.
18. He liked my weak coffee better than my husband's freshly ground strong coffee.
19. He spoiled me. He spoiled my kids. If they wanted chocolate milk and there was none in the house, he'd go out to the store just to get it for them.
20. When he fell down at the ranch on his last visit and was upset that he did, I told him not to worry and said, "If you fall, I will pick you up." Luckily our 4-H neighbor girl happened by that day and we both got him into my truck safely. Sometimes we all fall down and need someone there to help us. He'll always be in my heart to help me when I fall down. He will always be remembered and loved by every person he ever knew. He loved life and enjoyed it all he could until it was time for him to go. But he will never really be gone because he lives on through every person who loved him.
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