Posts
For those who do not know, Arnica is a homeopathic remedy. It comes in tiny beads that taste like sugar. So if you picture putting one of those small colored sprinkles that you get on cupcakes or cookies in your mouth, that is what taking arnica is like. Arnica is used for injuries, bruising, muscle soreness or trauma. With three toddler boys in the house it gets used a LOT.
Noah (4) ran into a wall and smashed his forehead pretty good. He was given Arnica by older sister Grace (17).
Judah (2) begged for some. Grace told him it was just for if you got hurt. Judah pretended to cry. Grace laughed at him, told him that she wasn't dumb, she knew that he wasn't hurt.
Judah then walked to a nearby wall and attacked it. With his forehead.
Hey, it worked for Noah, right?
Mar 27, 2009
Mar 26, 2009
Rain, rain go away...
Before we started the dairy I loved rain. I love the sound of rain, seeing trees wet and dripping. I even loved the smell of rain when we were living deep in the city.
After we got goats I really grew to appreciate rain when, the second year of farming we saw hay prices skyrocket even when hay could not, in many places, be found due to drought. We saw the pond grow smaller and smaller as the cracks in the ground grew larger and larger and our pile of brush grew larger and larger due to the ban on burning.
Now that we have the dairy, rain almost seems like a personal assault. It functions as a reminder of all of the items on my "to-do" list that remain undone. Those loads of sand that I didn't get ordered (or spread) on the path between the house and the dairy building (and the resulting mud tracked into the house and dairy alike)...the holes patched in the animal shelters so that they don't get rained on...the drainage ditch that was supposed to be cleared so that the goat's pasture dries out faster...the list seems endless and daunting and the rain serves to taunt us with every drop.
I have decided that I love rain...everywhere but right here, right over Swede Farm. I long for the day when Texas sees ample rain to stay beautifully green, there are no more burn bans, hay looks great and stays reasonably priced, we are able to burn the accumulating piles of brush...and Swede Farm stays nice and toasty dry.
Or maybe we should just go tackle those dry day jobs for the time when we have rainy day weather. You think?
After we got goats I really grew to appreciate rain when, the second year of farming we saw hay prices skyrocket even when hay could not, in many places, be found due to drought. We saw the pond grow smaller and smaller as the cracks in the ground grew larger and larger and our pile of brush grew larger and larger due to the ban on burning.
Now that we have the dairy, rain almost seems like a personal assault. It functions as a reminder of all of the items on my "to-do" list that remain undone. Those loads of sand that I didn't get ordered (or spread) on the path between the house and the dairy building (and the resulting mud tracked into the house and dairy alike)...the holes patched in the animal shelters so that they don't get rained on...the drainage ditch that was supposed to be cleared so that the goat's pasture dries out faster...the list seems endless and daunting and the rain serves to taunt us with every drop.
I have decided that I love rain...everywhere but right here, right over Swede Farm. I long for the day when Texas sees ample rain to stay beautifully green, there are no more burn bans, hay looks great and stays reasonably priced, we are able to burn the accumulating piles of brush...and Swede Farm stays nice and toasty dry.
Or maybe we should just go tackle those dry day jobs for the time when we have rainy day weather. You think?
Mar 23, 2009
No more excuses.
Things have slowed down, somewhat. There are no more baby goats hitting the ground every hour, it seems. The livestock show is over. The girls being back from Europe means that there are more hands available to keep things running smoothly.
This means one thing...I no longer have an excuse for the mountain of laundry that has taken over the entire length of the seven foot long couch, extending four feet up from the surface fo the couch. If this goes on for much longer I will have to get the play pen from the attic and use IT as a laundry basket as well! So...today is the day that the pile meets it's maker. We will conquer or die, this IS a hill to die on.
At least until tomorrow, when we have to do another seven loads of laundry. Oh well...life in a big family...
The livestock show is over for the year. Katie showed goats, Sara showed rabbits. The rabbits were the last two days of the show and Sara showed for the first time, not just in the Houston Livestock Show, but her first rabbit show EVER. Other breeders had very nice things to say about her rabbits, and her prize dutch, Lightning won ribbons! We are all really proud of Sara and the work that she has put into her rabbits and Sara now has stars in her eyes and is planning her next show. She gleefully told me that there are over 200 rabbit shows each year in Texas alone.
Why do I already feel weary?
This means one thing...I no longer have an excuse for the mountain of laundry that has taken over the entire length of the seven foot long couch, extending four feet up from the surface fo the couch. If this goes on for much longer I will have to get the play pen from the attic and use IT as a laundry basket as well! So...today is the day that the pile meets it's maker. We will conquer or die, this IS a hill to die on.
At least until tomorrow, when we have to do another seven loads of laundry. Oh well...life in a big family...
The livestock show is over for the year. Katie showed goats, Sara showed rabbits. The rabbits were the last two days of the show and Sara showed for the first time, not just in the Houston Livestock Show, but her first rabbit show EVER. Other breeders had very nice things to say about her rabbits, and her prize dutch, Lightning won ribbons! We are all really proud of Sara and the work that she has put into her rabbits and Sara now has stars in her eyes and is planning her next show. She gleefully told me that there are over 200 rabbit shows each year in Texas alone.
Why do I already feel weary?
Mar 20, 2009
Oh, the dairy smells divine!
We ran our first "big" batch of vanilla bean yogurt last night and the entire building smells absolutely wonderful! (I say "big" because we have run small test samples to tweak the flavor but this is the first time we have done an entire batch of yogurt destined for market as flavored. All four gallons worth.) I want to move the yogurt vat into the livingroom so my entire house could smell that way!
I cannot wait to bring this to market! I feel like my baby just started walking or something!
In other news, Spring must be in the air...daughter Katarina was out yesterday working on her raised garden beds. It isn't limited to Swede Farm, either, according to the NYTimes apparently they are doing likewise at the White House. Seems that the Obamas have been lobbied by advocates of eating locally and want to do their part.
Sounds great! Sign me up!
There is only one problem. While they are apparently advocating eating locally and growing organically at the White House, the President is pushing for laws that will make it harder, if not downright impossible for the rest of us to do just that.
H.R. 875 is a wonderful little ditty being offered up in DC, designed to make all of us safer. It purports to look at the big picture and protect us from all of the food-borne illnesses that can be acquired across the country in venues large and small. You see the licensing and such that they already have in place for the large producers has done so much to ensure food safety (after all, when was the last time that we had a food-related outbreak of illness, forever, right?) that they thought (in their inimitable wisdom) that it would be prudent to expand it to those of us who, as small producers, are running amuck. Complete, of course, with fines large and, well, not so small...up to a cool million. (Which should be no problem at all to cover, after all, we all know how rich those small farmers are getting at the farmer's markets!)
So...the Obama children may grow those organic heirloom tomatoes, just don't try to teach them about the business side of selling the fruits of their labor without ample inspection and licensing fees. Oh well, they can call it a civics class? Or economics? I am not sure WHAT to call it!
Oh! I forgot! I guess the Obamas haven't heard that they may well won't be able to grow those tomatoes organically--unless it is deemed appropriate, for you see HR875 requires standardized growing practices (to be determined by whom, do you think?) complete with those fines for deviating for those approved methods of gardening.
I will call it an intriguing coincidence that the author of this little gem just *happens* to be married to a gentleman employed by agribusiness giant Monsanto. Now that IS interesting. I guess if you find that regulations haven't helped make you safer you can at least make sure that the competition that is developing a healthy (in more ways than one) following is equally burdened. The fact that the burdening will effectively shut down small producers wouldn't be a bad side effect, would it? And the best part of all is that there is no real protection in the bill for those who are simply growing in their back yard for their own consumption.
“A real delicious heirloom tomato is one of the sweetest things that you’ll ever eat,” says Michelle Obama. She better hope that they eat them BEFORE this little bill passes. But that is OK, after all, as her husband assures us this is just to make sure that "No parent should have to worry that their child is going to get sick from their lunch".
I feel so much safer, now, don't you?
If it bothers you that your government thinks it appropriate to require licensing for small family farms to the point of likely running them out of business and controlling our food distribution to the point of closing down farmers markets (or making sure that only large agribusiness can sell there) then please consider contacting your representative and telling them that you actually are willing to take your chances with unlicensed heirloom organic tomatoes rather than lose access to them altogether.
See you tomorrow at the market...and don't forget that the vanilla bean yogurt makes great airfreshener!
I cannot wait to bring this to market! I feel like my baby just started walking or something!
In other news, Spring must be in the air...daughter Katarina was out yesterday working on her raised garden beds. It isn't limited to Swede Farm, either, according to the NYTimes apparently they are doing likewise at the White House. Seems that the Obamas have been lobbied by advocates of eating locally and want to do their part.
Sounds great! Sign me up!
There is only one problem. While they are apparently advocating eating locally and growing organically at the White House, the President is pushing for laws that will make it harder, if not downright impossible for the rest of us to do just that.
H.R. 875 is a wonderful little ditty being offered up in DC, designed to make all of us safer. It purports to look at the big picture and protect us from all of the food-borne illnesses that can be acquired across the country in venues large and small. You see the licensing and such that they already have in place for the large producers has done so much to ensure food safety (after all, when was the last time that we had a food-related outbreak of illness, forever, right?) that they thought (in their inimitable wisdom) that it would be prudent to expand it to those of us who, as small producers, are running amuck. Complete, of course, with fines large and, well, not so small...up to a cool million. (Which should be no problem at all to cover, after all, we all know how rich those small farmers are getting at the farmer's markets!)
So...the Obama children may grow those organic heirloom tomatoes, just don't try to teach them about the business side of selling the fruits of their labor without ample inspection and licensing fees. Oh well, they can call it a civics class? Or economics? I am not sure WHAT to call it!
Oh! I forgot! I guess the Obamas haven't heard that they may well won't be able to grow those tomatoes organically--unless it is deemed appropriate, for you see HR875 requires standardized growing practices (to be determined by whom, do you think?) complete with those fines for deviating for those approved methods of gardening.
I will call it an intriguing coincidence that the author of this little gem just *happens* to be married to a gentleman employed by agribusiness giant Monsanto. Now that IS interesting. I guess if you find that regulations haven't helped make you safer you can at least make sure that the competition that is developing a healthy (in more ways than one) following is equally burdened. The fact that the burdening will effectively shut down small producers wouldn't be a bad side effect, would it? And the best part of all is that there is no real protection in the bill for those who are simply growing in their back yard for their own consumption.
“A real delicious heirloom tomato is one of the sweetest things that you’ll ever eat,” says Michelle Obama. She better hope that they eat them BEFORE this little bill passes. But that is OK, after all, as her husband assures us this is just to make sure that "No parent should have to worry that their child is going to get sick from their lunch".
I feel so much safer, now, don't you?
If it bothers you that your government thinks it appropriate to require licensing for small family farms to the point of likely running them out of business and controlling our food distribution to the point of closing down farmers markets (or making sure that only large agribusiness can sell there) then please consider contacting your representative and telling them that you actually are willing to take your chances with unlicensed heirloom organic tomatoes rather than lose access to them altogether.
See you tomorrow at the market...and don't forget that the vanilla bean yogurt makes great airfreshener!
Mar 16, 2009
They are in the air!!!!!
Two very loooooong months later our girls are coming home!
January 13 Christin (19) and Grace (16) left to spend two months in Europe with my brother and family. While I would not for the world have begrudged them the opportunity to do and see all that they have done and seen, there has never-the-less been a huge hole left n the fabric of our family.
With such a houseful one wouldn't think that two less would even be noticeable, but it is, and not for the work that has been left undone. Each member brings something indefinable to the household, a different shade to the palette, if you will. We are "less" without them, in more than numbers.
We have been counting down their return in hours...a few days ago Sara said "Fifty-seven hours 'til they come home!"
My father-in-law (loved but a cranky pessimist) said "you won't be able to keep them on the farm now that they have seen what is out there!" I told this to Grace who shot back "I'm not ever leaving the farm again!" Yes, she has always been a homebody, but the time without her horses, rabbits and goats has been hard for her. And her Sethy. She has missed him something fierce. Christin has asked almost incessantly how Lottie (her lamancha doeling) is and how Judah is doing. They are full of stories and even more pictures but I don't think we have anything to fear regarding their desire to remain on the farm.
They are in the air and will be arriving at 3:15 this afternoon. We are all in a frenzy here, it is on everyone's minds and lips "Grace and Christin are coming home!" we tell the toddlers. They greeted us this morning when they bounced out of bed with "Chris and Grace are coming home!"
It feels like Christmas.
January 13 Christin (19) and Grace (16) left to spend two months in Europe with my brother and family. While I would not for the world have begrudged them the opportunity to do and see all that they have done and seen, there has never-the-less been a huge hole left n the fabric of our family.
With such a houseful one wouldn't think that two less would even be noticeable, but it is, and not for the work that has been left undone. Each member brings something indefinable to the household, a different shade to the palette, if you will. We are "less" without them, in more than numbers.
We have been counting down their return in hours...a few days ago Sara said "Fifty-seven hours 'til they come home!"
My father-in-law (loved but a cranky pessimist) said "you won't be able to keep them on the farm now that they have seen what is out there!" I told this to Grace who shot back "I'm not ever leaving the farm again!" Yes, she has always been a homebody, but the time without her horses, rabbits and goats has been hard for her. And her Sethy. She has missed him something fierce. Christin has asked almost incessantly how Lottie (her lamancha doeling) is and how Judah is doing. They are full of stories and even more pictures but I don't think we have anything to fear regarding their desire to remain on the farm.
They are in the air and will be arriving at 3:15 this afternoon. We are all in a frenzy here, it is on everyone's minds and lips "Grace and Christin are coming home!" we tell the toddlers. They greeted us this morning when they bounced out of bed with "Chris and Grace are coming home!"
It feels like Christmas.
Mar 14, 2009
2:something in the morning
Saturday is market day. We usually spend much of Friday getting ready for market but we had a funeral this Friday that was almost two hours away. Driving home at rush hour meant getting home even later. We stopped and bought food that we could eat in the car for dinner (lunchables and oreos, the dinner of champions...NOT!)
As soon as we got home, Katarina got the littles ready for bed while Sara, Linnea and Emma started evening chores (feeding animals and milking). I worked on copying ingredient lists for the new kefir and yogurt labels and Tim took care of some household issues before coming in to lay down with the toddlers to read them "Miss Ima" and settle them for bed. They have heard "Ima" enough times to recite it by heart--backwards--but I guess there is something about the idea of a horse racing an ostrich that catches their fancy.
Boys and dad asleep I head out to the dairy to supervise milking. All is going well so I clean the processing room, doing a sink full of dishes. I wrap up the cleaning and head back to the house to let Katie know that the girls will be ready for her to process milk shortly. (We are making chocolate tonight.) I sit and nurse Seth while catching up on emails and saying every 10 minutes "Hon? You going to get up and tend to your kefir or do you want me to do it?" Each time he assures me that he is getting up and will take care of it. I finally decide that I have spent enough time online and take Seth to bed. As he finally dozes off Kate comes in to let us know how chocolate is going. We are still tweaking the best way to add the ground chocolate that we use. She tells us that this was didn't mix as well as we had hoped but it sure made the dairy smell delicious, like a chocolate factory. I call her Charlie and her laughing finally succeeds in doing what my cajoling has failed to accomplish and wakes up her dad. We chat for a bit and Tim and I decide to go out to tend to the kefir together. By the time we get there the girls are finished milking and have cleaned the dairy. Tim strains and bottles kefir and we chat and compare the taste that this kefir has compared to the grains that we had been using. We also discuss the days events and the friend whose funeral we attended today. It has been particularly hard, this was the 50 year old father in a family that we are quite close to. It is sobering to contemplate a family with children still in the house having to carry on after a death of a parent.
Kate comes in and I tell her that I will bottle chocolate milk for her so that she can print labels. She leaves and goes back to the house, Tim going with her. I bottle and clean some more, scrubbing ice chests for tomorrow's market, and washing out the two pasteurizer vats used today plus the bottler. Just as I am ready to return to the house Kate comes in. She thanks me for the work (usually she does this) and shows me her new labels. She asks is the ingredients are all accurate "or if a toddler had added a few extra letters! (bifidobacterium infanti, etc) She will stay and wash out the tubes that I didn't get to, and label some bottles for the morning's market. She suggests that I make sure to grab my coat for the short walk back, saying that she thinks the temperature had dropped even further. I am not sure she is right, I am glad that for the moment, at least it is not raining. On the way back to the house I stop by the doe pen and pet those does who come to the fence for attention, kissing Sadie, Sweet Bug Tussle's momma. This little girl is a real affection hog. (Not that I am complaining!) I feel bad for how wet it is in their pen. We need to order some sand to improve drainage in their shelter, I promise them that this will be done soon. As I approach the house I hear baby noises...goat cries from behind the house and Seth crying inside. I am met inside the door with Sara who has obviously been asleep. I tell her to hold Seth while I hit the bathroom, then I will take Seth if she will go check the babies. It doesn't seem right that there should be noise from their pen this time of night! I settle in and start this post, nursing Seth again. Sara comes in and says the babies are fine--just playing. Playing? At this time of night? Yes, she says, she could just see the hooves of one of them as it bounces off the side of their house. It is incredible the energy that they have, I guess they are taking the opportunity to play while it isn't raining.
It is now 2:43AM by the clock on my bedside table. Kate is still in the dairy labeling milk. Seth is half asleep. Morning will come in barely over three hours so I guess I had better catch some sleep.
Goodnight.
As soon as we got home, Katarina got the littles ready for bed while Sara, Linnea and Emma started evening chores (feeding animals and milking). I worked on copying ingredient lists for the new kefir and yogurt labels and Tim took care of some household issues before coming in to lay down with the toddlers to read them "Miss Ima" and settle them for bed. They have heard "Ima" enough times to recite it by heart--backwards--but I guess there is something about the idea of a horse racing an ostrich that catches their fancy.
Boys and dad asleep I head out to the dairy to supervise milking. All is going well so I clean the processing room, doing a sink full of dishes. I wrap up the cleaning and head back to the house to let Katie know that the girls will be ready for her to process milk shortly. (We are making chocolate tonight.) I sit and nurse Seth while catching up on emails and saying every 10 minutes "Hon? You going to get up and tend to your kefir or do you want me to do it?" Each time he assures me that he is getting up and will take care of it. I finally decide that I have spent enough time online and take Seth to bed. As he finally dozes off Kate comes in to let us know how chocolate is going. We are still tweaking the best way to add the ground chocolate that we use. She tells us that this was didn't mix as well as we had hoped but it sure made the dairy smell delicious, like a chocolate factory. I call her Charlie and her laughing finally succeeds in doing what my cajoling has failed to accomplish and wakes up her dad. We chat for a bit and Tim and I decide to go out to tend to the kefir together. By the time we get there the girls are finished milking and have cleaned the dairy. Tim strains and bottles kefir and we chat and compare the taste that this kefir has compared to the grains that we had been using. We also discuss the days events and the friend whose funeral we attended today. It has been particularly hard, this was the 50 year old father in a family that we are quite close to. It is sobering to contemplate a family with children still in the house having to carry on after a death of a parent.
Kate comes in and I tell her that I will bottle chocolate milk for her so that she can print labels. She leaves and goes back to the house, Tim going with her. I bottle and clean some more, scrubbing ice chests for tomorrow's market, and washing out the two pasteurizer vats used today plus the bottler. Just as I am ready to return to the house Kate comes in. She thanks me for the work (usually she does this) and shows me her new labels. She asks is the ingredients are all accurate "or if a toddler had added a few extra letters! (bifidobacterium infanti, etc) She will stay and wash out the tubes that I didn't get to, and label some bottles for the morning's market. She suggests that I make sure to grab my coat for the short walk back, saying that she thinks the temperature had dropped even further. I am not sure she is right, I am glad that for the moment, at least it is not raining. On the way back to the house I stop by the doe pen and pet those does who come to the fence for attention, kissing Sadie, Sweet Bug Tussle's momma. This little girl is a real affection hog. (Not that I am complaining!) I feel bad for how wet it is in their pen. We need to order some sand to improve drainage in their shelter, I promise them that this will be done soon. As I approach the house I hear baby noises...goat cries from behind the house and Seth crying inside. I am met inside the door with Sara who has obviously been asleep. I tell her to hold Seth while I hit the bathroom, then I will take Seth if she will go check the babies. It doesn't seem right that there should be noise from their pen this time of night! I settle in and start this post, nursing Seth again. Sara comes in and says the babies are fine--just playing. Playing? At this time of night? Yes, she says, she could just see the hooves of one of them as it bounces off the side of their house. It is incredible the energy that they have, I guess they are taking the opportunity to play while it isn't raining.
It is now 2:43AM by the clock on my bedside table. Kate is still in the dairy labeling milk. Seth is half asleep. Morning will come in barely over three hours so I guess I had better catch some sleep.
Goodnight.
Mar 12, 2009
The Two Faces of Kidding Season
Well, it is total mayhem here. Technically we are pretty much done with "kidding season". (At least round one, we still have round two coming in late April/early May.) Pregnant goats aside (their time is coming)we have had eighteen goats kid in the month of February. This means that we are up to our necks in milk (yay!) and scrubbing milk pails (sigh), baby goats (yay!) and scrubbing baby goat bottles (sigh), making yogurt and chocolate milk (yay!) and, you guessed it, scrubbing the bottler and yogurt vats (sigh). This takes place practically round the clock. As I type this it is 9:33PM. We only just now finished dinner, clean up is (hopefully) taking place as I type. Katarina is in the dairy pasteurizing milk for Saturday's market. Judah (still very much awake) just walked up to me to proudly pronounce "I NAKED!" Yes, son, you are. I needn't ask why he is naked, I know why. It is because he cannot find any clothes in his drawers...because they are all here instead...
So, I wanted to share with everyone a glimpse of what our lives are like right now. It is called survival mode.
Mar 8, 2009
Getting attached
We get asked a lot at the farmer's markets questions like "is it fun having goats?" and "do all your goats have names, do you KNOW all of their names?"
What people want to know (so it seems to me) is, are the goats individuals or are they just nameless faceless milk machines.
Well, the truth is that they all have names, they all have personalities and they are all cared for as individuals with individual needs, which is why we have consciously chosen to limit the number of goats that we have. Many goat dairies run herds in the hundreds. We decided that somewhere between 40-60 was our ideal number. We are comfortably within that number right now. We do not want to ever grow so big that we cannot give individualized care and "know" each goat. After all, this is a big part of why we got goats in the first place, the fun that owning them brings to our lives!
Although we know the name of each goat, and can rattle off her (or his) history, the fact remains that there are always goats that each of us finds...special, and gets particularly attached to. It is hard to define what it is that makes a particular goat special to a particular person. If you asked one of our children, usually you will get averted eyes and a self-conscious shrug along with the cryptic "I don't know why...I just like her." I don't generally, as a rule, get attached to babies. I know, a general cry of disbelief at my callousness is arising all across the Internet. Don't get attached to babies? How can that be? Has there ever been anything cuter than a baby goat? Yes, they are unbelievably cute, but my heart just doesn't do that flip-flop over babies. I may recognize that one looks particularly striking or get excited over the potential that a certain kid has but I generally do not get emotionally involved. For me, this takes time. I get attached over the long haul. Seeing the doe grow from that gangly yearling to a mature milker. Seeing her dam and grand-dam in the set of her eyes or how she walks is really satisfying to me and goes far to creating that bond of affection. But the babies? Cute yes, bonded, no.
Until Bug Tussle.
Two weeks ago today Sara discovered two preemies born to a first time mother. The smaller twin died. The second, though chilled, was quickly warmed (inside my shirt) and snuggled down in a little Rubbermaid tote where she lived for the next week, first at the foot of my bed, then in the living room. When Tim wanted to name her he pulled up the list of Texas towns that we had thought might make good goat names (all things on Swede Farm being given only "Texas" names). When I saw "Bug Tussle" I said it was perfect for such a tiny little bug. In the back of my head was the warning that I shouldn't get attached because she was still tiny and thus fragile, but that was hard to do, she was such a fighter. She had a personality bigger than, well bigger than the town of Bug Tussle. She was cute and quirky and oh-so-soft and sweet.
She lived exactly 8 days.
I have cried for almost as long.
To be honest, this is the main reason that I haven't really blogged in the past week. Every time the blog came up when I sat down at the computer I saw the picture of little Bug and I had to close my eyes and look away. When I did blog it was with the express purpose of getting the picture moved down further so I didn't have it staring at me. I have thought and rethought my preemie management skills and practices. I know some things that I will do differently should we ever have another preemie...but that won't bring back my sweet Bug.
Bug Tussle is buried in a small copse of trees visible from the front door of the dairy. We had not owned her mother long when Bug Tussle was born, just a few weeks, in fact, but she has quickly become a favorite of mine, because she reminds me of her sweet baby. So, because I got attached to Bug Tussle, I am now attached to her mother, Sadie. But then it is hard not to get attached to these goats. They practically beg for it.
What people want to know (so it seems to me) is, are the goats individuals or are they just nameless faceless milk machines.
Well, the truth is that they all have names, they all have personalities and they are all cared for as individuals with individual needs, which is why we have consciously chosen to limit the number of goats that we have. Many goat dairies run herds in the hundreds. We decided that somewhere between 40-60 was our ideal number. We are comfortably within that number right now. We do not want to ever grow so big that we cannot give individualized care and "know" each goat. After all, this is a big part of why we got goats in the first place, the fun that owning them brings to our lives!
Although we know the name of each goat, and can rattle off her (or his) history, the fact remains that there are always goats that each of us finds...special, and gets particularly attached to. It is hard to define what it is that makes a particular goat special to a particular person. If you asked one of our children, usually you will get averted eyes and a self-conscious shrug along with the cryptic "I don't know why...I just like her." I don't generally, as a rule, get attached to babies. I know, a general cry of disbelief at my callousness is arising all across the Internet. Don't get attached to babies? How can that be? Has there ever been anything cuter than a baby goat? Yes, they are unbelievably cute, but my heart just doesn't do that flip-flop over babies. I may recognize that one looks particularly striking or get excited over the potential that a certain kid has but I generally do not get emotionally involved. For me, this takes time. I get attached over the long haul. Seeing the doe grow from that gangly yearling to a mature milker. Seeing her dam and grand-dam in the set of her eyes or how she walks is really satisfying to me and goes far to creating that bond of affection. But the babies? Cute yes, bonded, no.
Until Bug Tussle.
Two weeks ago today Sara discovered two preemies born to a first time mother. The smaller twin died. The second, though chilled, was quickly warmed (inside my shirt) and snuggled down in a little Rubbermaid tote where she lived for the next week, first at the foot of my bed, then in the living room. When Tim wanted to name her he pulled up the list of Texas towns that we had thought might make good goat names (all things on Swede Farm being given only "Texas" names). When I saw "Bug Tussle" I said it was perfect for such a tiny little bug. In the back of my head was the warning that I shouldn't get attached because she was still tiny and thus fragile, but that was hard to do, she was such a fighter. She had a personality bigger than, well bigger than the town of Bug Tussle. She was cute and quirky and oh-so-soft and sweet.
She lived exactly 8 days.
I have cried for almost as long.
To be honest, this is the main reason that I haven't really blogged in the past week. Every time the blog came up when I sat down at the computer I saw the picture of little Bug and I had to close my eyes and look away. When I did blog it was with the express purpose of getting the picture moved down further so I didn't have it staring at me. I have thought and rethought my preemie management skills and practices. I know some things that I will do differently should we ever have another preemie...but that won't bring back my sweet Bug.
Bug Tussle is buried in a small copse of trees visible from the front door of the dairy. We had not owned her mother long when Bug Tussle was born, just a few weeks, in fact, but she has quickly become a favorite of mine, because she reminds me of her sweet baby. So, because I got attached to Bug Tussle, I am now attached to her mother, Sadie. But then it is hard not to get attached to these goats. They practically beg for it.
Mar 3, 2009
Crazy times
This is a crazy season. Generally these days life is ordered by the routines of milking and pasteurizing increasing quantities of milk. Throw in the daily kid care responsibilities of bottle feeding three times a day, washing up from that and the hands-on care of any babies that need more attention than the rest and there seems time for little else.
I guess we got cocky this year, after all this is our fifth year to experience kidding and baby season. And two of our older helpers gone in Europe? That's no big deal! So, since we have all of this extra time on our hands we need to find something to do to fill that time. So, let's see...yes! It's time for the Houston Livestock Show! Surely there are a few goat breeders out there who need an extra hand (since we have so many and we aren't showing this year) so let's send Katarina (aka the "Farm Manager") to the show for three days. And of course we can't have Tim bored, so let's find a nice four day long cheese making workshop for him to attend all week, 4 hours away (like this one). That leaves...let's see. LeeAnne. With eight children, six of them ten years old and under. And 75 or so goats to tend to. And 4H meetings and little league practice and milk customers and, of course, laundry.
I normally take umbrage at those who infer that I am crazy for having eleven children or other sundry lifestyle choices and convictions. Today, though, I think I agree.
Pray for me. I could use it.
I guess we got cocky this year, after all this is our fifth year to experience kidding and baby season. And two of our older helpers gone in Europe? That's no big deal! So, since we have all of this extra time on our hands we need to find something to do to fill that time. So, let's see...yes! It's time for the Houston Livestock Show! Surely there are a few goat breeders out there who need an extra hand (since we have so many and we aren't showing this year) so let's send Katarina (aka the "Farm Manager") to the show for three days. And of course we can't have Tim bored, so let's find a nice four day long cheese making workshop for him to attend all week, 4 hours away (like this one). That leaves...let's see. LeeAnne. With eight children, six of them ten years old and under. And 75 or so goats to tend to. And 4H meetings and little league practice and milk customers and, of course, laundry.
I normally take umbrage at those who infer that I am crazy for having eleven children or other sundry lifestyle choices and convictions. Today, though, I think I agree.
Pray for me. I could use it.
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