Quick Update

Iris are blooming beautifully all over the farm. There is a nice, big vase full in the house, wafting the pleasant old fashioned fragrance through the room. Peonies are just starting to open, as are African iris types. Ditches are filled with purple Sweet William and a couple of Columbines have opened up.

We've got three new calves since I last wrote: Blossom, Persephone, and Daphnis.

Some ducklings and goslings have hatched and chicken eggs and a few guinea eggs are in the incubator.

Lettuces are coming up in the vegetable garden and I continue to harvest asparagus.

It Ain't Over Till It's Over

Well, one of the goats didn't get the message that the kidding season is over. She had a single doeling yesterday. Now I'm doubting she'll be the last.

The weather is beautiful and we had some rain last night. Everything's suddenly popping up and blooming outside. This includes poke and other noxious weeds.

I planted beans and harvested lots of nice asparagus. This afternoon, I blanched it and it is now in the freezer on a foil-covered cookie sheet. When it it totally frozen through, I'll vacuum seal it in portions. I see tiny lettuce seedlings in the garden.

They Once Were Lost, But Now They're Found

Hi. I'm back from the imaginary "home." It was actually a head trip to tranquililty while we were working just as hard as usual, and maybe more so. Since I last wrote here we've had some hard freezes after warm weather which have pretty much ruined the fruit crops for this year. Sixty-mile-an-hour winds blew shingles off roofs and kept sleep at bay for three days.

I think I perfected the baby socks to fit my friend's baby girl. Some pretty purple cotton/wool sockies are in the mail and I hope to get feedback on how they fit.

The "bybies" have all learned to follow the herd with the exception of the last triplets born about a week ago. On the first day they went outside near the nursery barn, two managed somehow to get lost somewhere in the next pasture -- probably by walking through the fence, as they are very small. Their Ma was up on the hill with her third kid bawling when I arrived. There was no sound from little kids. We searched for hours until it was dark and put the mamma goat and kid inside. She continued bawling. Neither of us got any sleep that night. I was convinced that coyotes had snatched the kids. That suggested that we would have a continuing problem with predators. I was freaked out by the idea that the tiny kids were dead.

The next morning, I had to go out to do some errands after attending the animals. I kept the bawling mama goat and kid inside along with the rest of the newest kids and mothers. I got back later in the morning and got a call from one of the men working on siding the barn. He said there was so much noise from the goats that he couldn't stand it anymore.

I went down to the barn and there were the little lost ones screaming for their Ma and milk. She was screaming. Her third kid was screaming. I felt like screaming, too. The happiness at finding them overcame the grief.

The men said the kids came down the hill out of a thicket and through the fence. They had tried to put the two lost kids in with the mamma goat, but she was butting them and acting crazy. I asked for help to hold her while I milked out two bottles, since she wouldn't feed them. They guzzled the milk like they'd been starved for days. We had to repeat the milking procedure at night and included the third kid, who, evidently hadn't been fed either. I assume that she was so upset that she wouldn't feed him and her bag was swollen, so it hurt when the kids tried to nurse. Queenie was simply out of her mind with grief and anxiety about the lost kids. All three kids were visibly upset.

By the next morning, she was back to normal, having calmed down and gotten used to having her triplets again. They're doing fine, but have been confined to the small fenced pasture around the barn so that they can get used to following her and not wandering off.

We've all sighed a collective sigh of relief and are just waiting for the next farmy emergency. Can you see why I need to take imaginary vacations?
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Just after I wrote this, I went to the nursery barn to tuck in Queenie and the triplet kids. They are the last little family in the nursery, the rest of the goats having "graduated" to the big barn.

Just before I left, I stroked Queenie and told her she was a good mother. Then I picked up each little triplet kid and kissed it on its goaty forehead. A light jazz rendition of, "Amazing Grace" came on the radio, played sweetly and clearly on jazz flute.

"Boy," I thought "this is pretty spooky." I took it as a sign that, for now at least, all is well.

Guest Columnist

This is Quince. I'm writin' this from the five star maternity barn since I have a lot of time on my hands, uh, hooves, while I'm restin' up with mah little twins and waitin' till they're big enough to go out with the rest of the herd.

Miz Scahlet Oil is MIA. She was mutterin' something about checking into a rest home the last time I saw her. I guess she had a bad day rescuin' bybie goats who kept gettin' lost between pastures on the first day they got to follow their mammas out to the big pastures. They were doin' a lot of screaming that day, and Miz Scahlet kept climbin' up the hills to get them out.

She was ravin' about sittin' in a chair and knitting bybie socks... Oh, lawd! If she tries to make socks for all the bybies -- why, that's 45 (bybies) X 4 (feet) = ? I'm not too good at multiplycation, but that's a LOT of socks!

Oh, NO! I'm such a ninny! I'll bet she was just talkin' about makin' socks for that cute little human bybie that her friend brought to the barn! What a relief! That bybie shouldn't need more than two socks at any given time.

We three mamma goats in the nursery barn have been lettin' our bybies go out in the little yard and lie in the sun each afternoon. Today, it's freezin' so we'll probably keep them in most of the time.

I'm hopin' Miz Scahlet will be feelin' better soon. She does keep us fed and clean and comfortable. We need her and hope that knittin' socks will keep her sane.

Respectfully,

Quince

Redbuds in Bloom

When the redbuds are blooming in Virginia, they create hot pink patches in the woody landscape. Fruit trees are also in bloom. There is an ornamental apricot tree just outside my window. It has deep rose-colored blossoms.

We've had some rain. The fields are greening up and I'm able to begin the pasture rotation for the cows again. I mowed the lawns for the first time this year.

Kidding is winding down and management is getting more under control. It's still a lot of work. The cows have not been slouches, either. We had a new heifer calf the day before yesterday. She is called Blossom. (Yes, she is a dearie.) I was able to lie down on the grass next to her and check her out. She was still too new to be fearful. Momma Cow (Sally) wandered over to make sure I was not molesting her in some way. There are eight new calves in the pasture.

The garden's tilled, but needs to have vegetation raked out before planting. I did manage to get snow peas in the ground.

I've hired a hardworking teenage girl to help out two days a week. Yesterday, we worked on cleaning out stalls for three hours. We're about half done. Every bone in my body hurts.

Catching up with all the farm and house work is the goal this week. There's not much time to write.

Vernal Equinox

Today is the first day of Spring. One of the peach trees is blooming.

Happy Spring!

Chicken TV

Our chicken house is at the base of a hill and the cows are currently in the pasture above.

When I walked into the chicken house yesterday morning, there were cows looking in to each window along the pasture side. Besides the zany chicken antics, I'm sure the grain storage containers were of interest. Well, cows need entertainment as much as anyone.

There are five new calves. Forage is a little hard to get at this time of the year, although the recent rains are encouraging grass growth. I think I'm actually seeing the pastures greening up more each day.

The kidding is going swimmingly, as you can see by the list to the right. I'm running out of barn space and W names! If someone doesn't come up with more female names, there are going to start to be some really goofy ones in the list soon. HELP!

This is the season of iodine-stained fingers; of tired farmers; of nasty ganders; of daffodils; of eggs and calves and kids... Hurrah for Spring and for Chicken TV!

Update

We're moving right along with the kidding season. Most of the births are routine and the goat mothers do a good job of taking care of their kids. Once in a while, however, we have a little drama.

On the fifth, last Monday, I did the usual routine of taking care of the goats. One of the Boer goats had a nice, big single buckling and it wasn't hard to set her up in the old barn. I went to the new nursery and when I got finished there I just did a visual check of the rest of the herd outside. There was a young doe about as high up on the hill as she could be crying in pain. This was her first birth and it became obvious to me when I looked at the two legs coming out, that this was a breech birth but that the baby was positioned with head down. I sat down on the ground and helped pull the baby out, as it was obvious to me that she couldn't do it herself. (Naturally just as we got to the end, working with her contractions, my cell phone rang in my coat pocket. I didn't answer.)

The baby was wet and there was a cold wind blowing. The little mother had no clue about what was happening and didn't seem to know that this was her baby. I sheltered the baby as well as I could; I didn't have a towel or anything to dry it off with. Rather than walking down the hill and back up again, I decided to try to get them both into the closest barn. Ursula -- the new mother -- didn't want to come, so she kept laying down. The baby was slippery and I was worried about dropping her. It was quite an effort to get them both down. I put the baby into my warming crib, which has gotten a lot of use this season. It is a deep trough with hay, a towel, and a safe heatlamp.

For a day or so, Ursula didn't do much at all with the baby. She licked it a little, but had no milk production at all. I freeze colostrum each year for this sort of scenario and used a baby bottle to give little Wilma some nutrition.

A young fellow named Jason came over that evening and helped nurse Wilma. He also helped feed the mothers and rake out stalls. If he or his wife sees this, I want him to know that Ursula's milk came in late yesterday and baby Wilma is doing fine. Ursula's mothering instincts have kicked in and the two seem devoted to one another.

This morning, we have another single female birth. I named her Wanda.

Goatz iz da kraziest peoplez

Saturday afternoon was mild and sunny. The majority of the goat herd was in the near pasture laying on the grass in the sun. Harvey Llama was in their midst -- a sure sign that more births are imminent. I thought it was a good idea to let the six new mama goats out to get some air.

Come on, girls -- it’ll do you good to get out. The babies will be safe and sound in the nursery barn.

"Oh, no, ma’am! We’re fine here. We don’t want to leave our little bybies for a minute! "

Look, I know you girls are getting cabin fever. Goats normally leave their babies during the day while they graze. I’ve done this before.

"Pleeeeeze don’t make us go!"

It’ll be all right. I’ll go with you, I said, picking up the broom and shooing them out the door.

"Hay, this is our old barn! Look, everything’s just the same as it was. ‘And this is our pasture, and our water buckets… Oh, Ah declare! There’s mah mama, mah sistah and auntie and mah last year’s bybie!" (These are SW Virginia goats.)

I sat on the hill while the herd reunited with the girls. There was a lot of nuzzling and sniffing.

"Mah dear, you're as big as a house, when are you due? Ah’ve got the sweetest twins. They look just like gramma Pearl… "

So, everything was fine. The babies were quiet and safe, so I went on to do some pruning and other work around the farm.

At dinnertime, I expected the moms to be waiting outside the nursery barn. That proved to be wishful thinking. They were in the big barn with the rest of the herd. I grabbed some leads and proceeded to take them across to the nursery.

"What ARE you doin'? We want to stay HERE!"

Are you kidding? (ha) You didn’t want to leave the babies and now you don’t want to go back to them?

"Bybies? What bybies? We don’t know nothing’ ’bout birthin’ no bybies, Miz Scahlet! What do they look like?"

They look like little white puppies with brown markings. Of course you remember them.

"No we don’t! We’re not goin', and you can’t make us! We’ll fall down on the ground and you’ll have to drag us to that barn! Pleeeeze, Miz Scahlet, don’t make us go! "

I escorted each the few yards to the green barn and shoved them in the door.

"Oh, yes! Now we remember! Aren’t they cute? ‘And they DO look like little white puppies. Can we have our supper now?"

I wish they'd stop calling me Miss Scarlet.
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Holding Pattern

We're at fourteen baby goats and holding as I write this. It's a lot easier to take care of fourteen than forty, so this may be a good time to make a little report for those who are interested.

The five star maternity hotel still has a couple of empty stalls. Each mother has a private space for herself and her babies. They have all settled in.

In the morning, I feed each mother then open the gates and let all out to explore. The babies play, practicing their sideways dance steps and four-footed hopping. The radio is tuned to a classic music station and it often seems they are dancing to the rhythms of whatever music is playing.

As I rake out the spaces, they -- just like human kids -- seem to say, "Oh, boy, a dirtpile! Let's climb it!"

They go to that with gusto and look for other opportunities to test their skills, climbing up on concrete steps and looking for cavelike spaces under tables and behind the refrigerator.

As I fill water buckets and hay racks, I must step carefully as some of the triplets who have received supplemental bottles think that I surely have milk in my legs. They keep trying to figure out where it is. One baby sucked my fingers this morning, eventually deciding that they are utterly useless! They look right, but nothing comes out.

I then sprinkle pine shavings on wet floors and provide extra waste hay for clean bedding. Next, the does are placed back in their individual spaces and babies matched up, using the information written on their paper collars. They are tired out by then, and find cozy napping places. When I leave, all is calm, clean and quiet.