November snow - Challenge accepted!

Critters, both two and four legged alike, are confused by the weather on the farm this week.  On Friday, Mother Nature blessed us with a foot of beautiful white powder.  Certainly early for the season and reminiscent of winters 35 years past, it has been both a gift and a chore.

The Canadian geese were as puzzled as I as they gathered at the south end of the lake.  The 'cocktail party' that typically ensues at the end of October during their annual migration was alive and well this mid-November evening amidst Mother Nature's fresh coating of white.  Chores, usually assisted by the child's wagon found free on the side of the road, were completed these evening by plastic sled carrying feed and water to the pigs.  

That same sled, after chores, carried the almost seven year old down the hill and driveway more times than fingers could count, giggles and full bodied laughter echoing behind as the sled went over the snow bank into the Christmas trees.

The first tree of the season was cut today and left the farm in the care of a young family who travel a lot for the holidays and asked to come and get theirs early so as to enjoy as much of their own season as possible before visiting their extended family across the country.

Our early season covering of white has made the ensuing construction of the high tunnel all that much more interesting and predicted low temperatures of single digits below zero on Monday aren't helping.  Sore muscles from regular chores and maintenance on the farm scream just a little louder as shoveling has become a necessary addition to ensuring all the critters have fresh, thawed water and feed.  This farmer remembered how to plow, albeit not a very pretty job, after better than 30 years away from being behind the wheel of a plow truck.

While chores may take a little longer and the grand plans for the coming season may be delayed a little - this farm moves forward.  Challenges have been laid down.  Perhaps the plow truck will clear the spot for the greenhouse instead of the 70 year old tractor.  School is out this week and this farmer has a chance to make a dent in some of her long overdue projects.  Mother Nature has laid down her challenge with a solid covering of the white stuff. 

To quote one of those popular movies that came out in the last few years - 

"Challenge accepted!"

Infrastructure & not so fixed pigs fence

If there is one lesson, word of wisdom, gem of information, tidbit of knowledge that I can pass on to a new farmer; it is infrastructure.  Spend your time and money on it.  Get it in place before you add new critters or gardens or crops.  The time and money that you spend in the beginning will save you hours later down the road.

This homesteading/farming adventure began when Little man's father brought home seven chickens.  We had discussed getting chickens to have some meat and eggs for our own personal use.  Discussed it.  One day he arrives home with seven of them in his car.  There was no place to put them.  They could have stayed in his car, anyone who knows him knows that he probably wouldn't notice livestock in the passenger compartment along with all manner of other stuff that he accumulates there.  But a car is obviously not the best living situation for a chicken so we scrounged around and found some plywood and a couple of old 2x4's and we made a small chicken coop for them.  

That was the beginning of the homestead style projects that have happened here.  Each of the pig huts are made from salvaged materials.  My shed is made from mostly salvaged material.  Two of the three greenhouses that we had were made from salvaged windows, plywood and bricks.  Our fencing was reclaimed from the farmer who leased this land before me and had beef cows here.  And the piglet's fence (some woven wire portable fence with step in posts) was bartered for from a friend two towns over.

Our salvaged/bartered for/hobbled together fencing has not held up to 11 pigs.  It has kept them in, but as they get bigger and the rains have turned their pasture into a very large mud yard, it hasn't stood up to their desire to find more palatable ground.  The fence posts are beginning to rot causing sections of the fence to ground out.  Woven wire without sufficient power to deter impatient piglets is nothing more than a big chew toy.

Yesterday's attempts at fixing the fence were successful until I put the fence tester on the wires.  The exterior fence was plenty strong, but the woven wire was grounding out in the mud somewhere.  I had traced and replaced the wire, checked for breaks and frays, and fought eight 200 lb piglets in the process.  When I thought I finally had it all repaired and back in place, the wind picked up.  Three to six inch deep mud is not strong enough to hold the fence against 35 mph wind gusts.

In between electrical work on the old tractor and site work for the new hoop house, I will be running new fence for the pigs this weekend.  They aren't happy being all mixed together, but at least no one is in heat right now!  Let's hope that between Little man's father and I, we managed to save the fence post insulators that came off the old fence posts and that at least one of the two chainsaws hasn't been beaten up too bad by Christmas tree brush that it can be used to cut fence posts.

One more thing that I recommend keeping in running order - your washing machine!

Rain, mud and fences

This summer was one of the driest summers in more than two decades.  The ponds at the top of our driveway were almost completely empty.  The farm ran out of water in July – thanks to my grandfather’s foresight we have a back up supply.  The lack of water made the ground pretty hard but we managed to install the piglet’s electric netting fence in the hard, dry ground using a little extra elbow grease and a heavy hammer.

Four weeks ago it started to rain again.  It has rained for two to five days out of each week for the past month.  Our ponds are full again and the ground water is slowly rising to where the farm has a nominal supply of water if we are careful.  While we are thankful to have the rain to replenish the water supply; it makes a pile of mud.  Livestock, especially our pigs and chickens, tend to stir up only the first two to six inches of dirt leaving hard packed earth underneath.  The recent rains have only penetrated the ground so far creating two to six inches of mud.  Pigs also love to root.  Where they have changed the layout of the topsoil, the water has tendency to settle instead of runoff where it traditionally had.

“Mom, I think there is a problem with the pig’s fence.  Cole is in the piglet’s hut.”

All the rain we have had lately and the resulting mud are grounding out our electric netting making it difficult to keep the pigs where they belong.  Changes in the grade of the ground in the pasture caused by pigs doing what pigs do has caused some water issues in their huts as well.

Instead of working on the site work for the new high tunnel this afternoon, my adventures will include going out in the pouring rain, separating piglets from boars and sows, and seeing if their fence can be repaired.  I will also continue working on the drainage around their huts.  This work is done by hand, with a shovel since working on the electrical system of the tractor in the rain probably isn’t the smartest idea.

Here’s hoping my new jacket and my washing machine can stand up to yet another afternoon of pouring rain and slick mud.

I think I will go vote first while I am still dry.

Piglets - finally - and cautiously throwing caution to the wind.

The history of pigs on this farm is very similar to the history of the next generation of this farm.  I can't say whether my great-grandparents played safe bets or whether they were gamblers of the truest sense.  I know that my great-grandmother worked too hard, often on the farm alone with hired hands and a team of twelve horses in her hand while my great-grandfather was off chasing his next business venture.  I am eternally grateful for her hard work and that of her sons, since I am afforded the opportunity to show my son what it is like to live in this tiny corner of northern Vermont.  The history of pigs on this farm has been a balance of safe bet versus, 'you have got to be kidding me, I am five months pregnant, I can't take care of piglets!'

Much like the the first chickens that Little Man's father brought home, the first piglets arrived with a hobbled together pig hut, some scrap lumber, an old carpet and a couple of pallets stood on end.  They arrived in a dog kennel in the back of a minivan and we managed to keep them alive, raise them amazingly well for not knowing what we were doing and provided almost 400 lbs of pork for ourselves and to trade with for beef and hay. The next set arrived with only slightly better accommodations, but at least one year's experience under our belt.  Although the first two were a welcome surprise, the second two were planned for even if we had no real idea of the scope of raising pigs to pork on pasture.  Our first pig illness hit during the summer of our second two pigs, alongside a visit from my step-children.  You learn fast when a recent farm transplant is looking up at you with big eyes as night is beginning to fall, your infant is screaming for you to feed him and your young pig is down in the field with a raging fever.

From there we rescued a sow who was bound for sausage.  We thought long, read a lot and then tempted fate with a terribly unsuccessful artificial insemination.  Our poor sow even ended up having a false pregnancy going so far as to get big, fill with milk and then - nothing.  After spending some serious change for this little farm on mail order sperm, I was hooked on pigs and wagered on a new boar.  One from the same heritage as our sow.

I drove three hours to lower New York state, spent better than half a weeks paycheck and brought home an eight week old, heritage breed boar from one of the best reputed breeders around.  Zeb was carefully raised and he tried his darndest, but the sow was too old and never got pregnant, no matter how hard he tried.  She was pretty old, so she filled our freezer.

Six months later, I purchased a gilt from friends two towns over.  I was determined to make this pig operation work here on the farm.  We waited until the time was right, took down the electric fence between Zeb and Little One and let nature take its course.  Well the first heat cycle passed, and not for Zeb's lack of trying, but there was no pregnancy.  Then the same farm we got Little One from had a sow that they were going to send for sausage; instead they delivered her to us and we were thrilled to have an opportunity for Zeb's good lines to meet with Sally's and for certain we would have spring piglets.  21 day cycle, after 21 day cycle - each time we were met with the girls in heat.  Although he was trying Zeb was just not getting the job done.

In December I had seen the posts about some boars for sale in lower Vermont.  I already had a boar, so I glossed over them hoping my girls were growing their next generation.  When heat came again in January, after the girls had been with Zeb for almost four months, I knew, for certain, that there was a problem.  I only assumed that problem was Zeb.  Two weeks later, that fateful Facebook post popped up again in my news feed.  The two boars were still available.

It was late at night in January and I tempted fate, almost 11:00 p.m., I messaged the seller.  He immediately responded and told me that both boys were still available and that they were only about 225 lbs.  I jumped on the opportunity, talked with him over a couple of days and we made an arrangement for a payment and then scheduled a weekend where I could travel down to get him.  Then the weather turned.  We couldn't have a second boar on the farm without the two of them fighting and there was too much snow on the ground to get Zeb from the pasture to the freezer without serious excavation.  It looked like my impulse was all for naught and there would never be piglets on this farm.  Well, the following weekend the weather turned, my cousin was available with the big tractor, a friend could come and help with the major parts and my mom could come and help with the packaging and labeling.  It was a sad day as the pig with the longest history with us was no longer.  The one pig I had figured as the future of my life here on the farm was being relegated to the chest freezer.

The following night I put a plywood wall between the second row of seats and the rear of the minivan, put a tarp on the floor and added a third of a bale of hay.  Saturday morning, I drove 100 miles south into the unknown and completely on a whim and loaded a 300 lb boar into the back of my minivan.

We got him home, and although it appeared he was trying his hardest - he was too small to effectively breed Sally and Little One wanted nothing to do with him.  I was concerned that I had spent far too much money and far too much time on another failed piglet venture.  Each month I watched as  at least one of the two of them appeared to come into heat.  When the heat stopped,  I saw no signs of pregnancy.  I bought a doppler ( I now know I spent far too little money on too cheap of a unit) only to hear nothing week after week.

Little man's father and I were having serious discussions about who was going to go into the freezer first.  Too many months with no visible signs of pregnancy, an ever increasing feed bill and a significant lack of cash flow.  I said to him - the one time I was spontaneous, threw caution to the wind and tried something just a little crazy and now I have to consider how much room there is in the freezer and that we might be done, completely done with pigs on the farm.  I was heart broken.  But the fateful day, 3 mos, 3 weeks and 3 days from the last confirmed heat cycle were just a week away.  We would wait two more weeks before we made a final decision.

Little One did not disappoint, although I was sure that Sally was the one that would be delivering first if it was at all possible that she was pregnant.  After a night of violent thunderstorms, Little One was in the pasture, pulling down old fence posts to make a nest in the hut.  She would eat, drink, then tear out another piece of fence and try to fit it into the hut.

Exactly one week after arriving on the farm, Cole did his job, and three months, three weeks and three days after that, the first piglets to be born on this farm arrived.  Eight were born and seven survived.

One week later Sally started grabbing some of those same fence posts and pulling them into the other hut.  Unfortunately her labor was not so successful - six piglets were born but only two survived.  Almost five months later we have eight healthy 'piglets.'  They remain for sale as breeding stock or as Christmas roasts.

This level-headed, normally cautious, list-building woman threw caution to the wind an bought a boar, sight-unseen, on facebook late on a Tuesday night.  Then she followed through, actually went down and got him in the back of a minivan!!  Perhaps this woman should learn to be a little more spontaneous.  She has learned not to be so cautious.  She will attempt a little more risk and sense of adventure... 

On a whim she called the National Resource Conservation Service (NRCS) about a grant for a high tunnel.  The deadline was the following day - she scrambled, applied and was awarded a grant for a high tunnel.  She now has 90 days to get the tunnel constructed and the plastic on.  Did she mention that it is the beginning of November and it snowed two days ago...

Time to jump in - to hell with the consequences!