Rural Revolution

Loose livestock

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Thu, 23 May 2013 16:44:00 +0000

Up to this point, the livestock have been confined to the wooded side of our property. This is where they stay for the winter (it's accessible from the barn for easy feeding), but as spring has emerged along with green grass -- which means we're feeding less --the critters have been eating down the grass in the woods pretty rapidly.

Before putting them in the pasture for the summer, we decided to let the livestock loose in the driveway area in order to crop down the grass (less work for us -- we don't have to mow or weedwack). They could also eat down the triangle pasture where we had grown wheat last summer. It's fallow this year, so keeping it trimmed would be nice.

Before letting everyone loose, however, we needed to cordon off the garden, the barn, and the end of the triangle pasture (where the fence is down). Our came the wonderful trusty cattle panels, moved from one spot to another (in this case, reinforcing the fence near the bull pen).

Here's the tip of the triangle pasture, now fenced off.

Driveway gate, closed.

Garden, cordoned off.

Barn, off limits.

Then we opened up the gates from the wooded side, and let the animals roam.

Brit, of course, was the first one through, cropping the fresh green grass as she went.

But she was under the mistaken impression that the animals were being allowed into the pasture. Nope.

Same with the other critters. Nope.

But that's okay -- lots of yummy fresh grass on this side.

What is it about dirt piles that makes animals want to rub in it?

Cow kisses between Raven and her daughter Shadow.

Early the next morning, the animals discovered the triangle pasture.

This drove the dogs nuts since the pasture is right next to the yard.

This morning Ruby met Leto through the gate. Very cute.

We'll keep the critters in the driveway area for about another week or so, before releasing them into the pasture. For that amount of time we'll have to watch our step for all the "landmines" in our way!

Five levels of preparedness

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Wed, 22 May 2013 19:16:00 +0000

A friend sent me a link to a web post entitled "Five Dimensions of Preparation" which comes from a website called Survival5x5 which has other cool beans stuff related to preparedness.

It's a sobering but realistic analysis if how prepared people really are to meet unexpected challenges. Test yourself and see where you rate.
________________________________________

Five Dimensions of Preparation

There are five levels of preparations for SHTF, WROL, and TEOTWAWKI

Level 0 (zero): Every emergency is a disaster

• Less than two weeks of food in the house
• No water purification system
• No bug-out bag
• No defensive weapons
• No way to produce their own food
• No physical gold or silver
• No tangible assets to barter

Level 1: Can Survive Two Weeks of an Minor Emergency (such as ice storm)

• Have sufficient food and water for two weeks of emergency
• Able to heat their home for two weeks without relying on the power grid by use of kerosene heater or fireplace
• Able to cook their meals for two weeks without relying on the power grid
• Has a first aid kit
• Likely has no defensive weapons
• Must leave their home after two weeks due to lack of preparation

Level 2: Can Survive One Month of an Emergency (such as major hurricane)

• Likely has a portable power generator and sufficient fuel for one month of operation
• Has handguns or shotgun to defend their home
• Has a month’s work of canned goods to eat from
• Has sufficient prescription medicines for 30 days
• Has enough batteries for power a portable radio for 30 days

Level 3: Can Survive Three Months of an Emergency (such as martial law or impacting earthquake)

• Has a deep-short term pantry
• Likely has a water purification system
• Likely has defensive weapon for each family member
• Likely has some type of neighborhood safety watch or 24 hour security watch rotation at the home
• Has stocked wood to burn in fireplace and/or iron stove
• Has communication gear to keep track of local and world events
• Has means to recharge batteries without relying on power grid
• Has three months of prescription medicines

Level 4: Can Survive One Year of an Emergency (such as currency devaluation, economic depression)

• Has a deep short- and long-term food pantry
• Likely has their own garden to produce food
• Likely has small-sized farm animals to produce protein (chickens, goats, rabbits)
• Has a deep supply of ammo (2000+ rounds per weapon)
• Is a spare weapon in event of damage
• Has mean to produce herbal medicines to replace prescriptions
• Has a long-term store of antibiotics
• Likely has dog for security watch
• Has full 24 hour rotation of security watch on the home (requires 6 adults)
• Show have secondary off-site storage of food, weapons, and ammo
• Is ready to bug-out with full hiking and camping gear, if security situation degrades
• Is able to educate their children at home

Level 5: Can Survive Indefinitely from their Home during an multi-year SHTF or TEOTWAWKI situation

• Has a fully functioning large garden or small farm for food production
• Is able to can and store the results of food harvest for the coming year
• Is able to harvest seeds for next year’s planting
• Is able to raise multiple generations of farm animals (cattle, sheep, horses)
• Has horses for local and distance travel
• Has enough ammo to last a generation (10,000+ rounds per weapon)
• Has spares of each weapon and lots of extra magazines
• Able to generate their own fuel (bio-diesel, alcohol)
• Likely has fully functional solar power bank with deep storage batteries
• Has natural on-site water sources for farm and home
• Has home-based business to generate income
• Is able to build new building and make any necessary repairs to existing buildings
• Is able to provide excess food for charity
• Has a secondary residency (such as mountain cabin) for full bug-out
• Is prepared for minor surgery and child birth at home
• Has stores of gold and silver for barter
• Is able to produce their own clothing (from raw wool or raw cotton with spinning wheel and small loom)

________________________________________

So -- where do you rate?

Prayers for Oklahoma

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Tue, 21 May 2013 01:15:00 +0000

News is coming out of Oklahoma that dozens of school children may be dead after an elementary school took a direct hit from a series of massive and destructive tornadoes. Brave teachers covered children with their own bodies, but unknown numbers have died.

My heart absolutely breaks with this news. I can't fathom the pain these people are experiencing.

And it isn't just the school. Entire subdivisions have been leveled with untold amounts of death and destruction. People have lost their homes, their livelihoods, and in many cases their lives.

This tragedy is still unfolding, so as of this posting no one knows the extent of the destruction or lives lost. Many communications lines are down and cell phone coverage is jammed or congested. But as one news article put it: "Jamie Shelton, the public information officer for Moore [Oklahoma], had pleaded with residents to seek shelter before the storm dissipated. 'It's happening as we speak,' he said. 'People need to take this seriously... Take precaution, be aware. If you're outside the area, please pray for us.'"

Prayers coming.

Oodles and oodles of strawberries

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Mon, 20 May 2013 23:32:00 +0000

Last year, unsurprisingly, I gave up on my beautiful strawberry beds after the deer absolutely decimated them. And I mean decimated. Plants were ripped up by the roots, still-rooted plants were eaten down to nubbins... No matter how much bird netting I draped over them, and no matter how cleverly or securely the netting was draped, the deer found their way in. They were aggressive in their hunt for my precious strawberries. By the end of the season, my strawberry beds were so destroyed that I figured nothing was salvageable. I didn't even bother to mulch the beds with straw before winter.

Fast forward to early spring. The beds still looked stripped and bare, but much to my surprise, some of the plants had survived both the winter and the deer.

So in early April I did some weeding and tried to assess what was still alive. My goodness some of the weeds had long roots.

A lot of the strawberry plants were dried and crunchy and thoroughly dead.

Or were they? I had to look them over very carefully to make sure.

Nonetheless, despite more strawberries surviving than I thought, my beds were sadly depleted. So in a moment of giddy exuberance (this was before Don got sick and we had to watch our spending), I ordered three hundred bareroot strawberry plants from Miller Nurseries.

These were shipped in early May.

I guess I didn't realize just how many three hundred really is. While I knew I wanted some extra strawberry beds, now that the plants were here I had to figure out where to put them. I decided to use larger tractor tires (split in half) for strawberry beds.

So I heaved our truck over the hills into Washington to a place that changes tractor tires for farmers. They loaded two tires into the truck for me. These tire centers are always glad to get rid of tractor tires, because it costs a lot of money for them to recycle them.

Two tires were all they could fit into the truck, and frankly I was pretty nervous driving home because of the weight (the tires are about 500 lbs each). I kept expecting the truck to tip over, so I crawled home at low speeds. Good thing the route isn't busy.

But it gave me an idea. If these guys have to PAY to have the old tractor tires recycled, would they consider loading up a bunch and delivering them to our place for FREE? I'm strongly of the philosophy that It Never Hurts to Ask, so I did.

The response was almost comical. You want tires? Really? How many? When? Can you take them this afternoon?

Next thing we knew, a fellow named Jason had loaded up twelve tires onto a flatbed truck and was on his way to our place. It was satisfactory for both parties: he got to "recycle" his tires for just the cost of delivery, and we got twelve enormous tires for free, delivered straight to our door.

Now that we have a free source for these monstrous things, there are a lot of possibilities for their uses. Besides raised beds in the garden, some larger uncut tires would work for fruit tree planters. Tires with just the sidewalls cut out would work for cattle feeders and potato beds. Jason said he would hold for us some enormously wide (3 feet deep or so) tractor tires from a rig he's changing next week.

We also have neighbors who are thinking about raised beds in tractor tires. Bottom line, Jason could get rid of a lot of tires through us!

Over the next couple of days, whenever we had a few minutes to spare, Don and I would slice a tire or two in half length-wise. When we had a bunch cut up, we borrowed the tractor, chained them up, and moved them into the garden.

It took us a solid day's work to move all the tire halves and fill them with compost and dirt, but finally the beds were ready to plant with strawberries. With ten new beds, we're, um, gonna have a lotta berries.

But first the strawberries have to be planted. I took them out of their packaging and soaked the roots for a few hours.

Time to plant.

I laid out the strawberries first. I found I could fit about 30 strawberries per tire, so my estimate of ten tire halves was spot-on.

Before planting, I trimmed the roots of each plant to about four inches in length. After many hours, I got all 300 plants in the ground.

Oh and by the way, we're putting in nuclear fencing this summer. No deer allowed.

A quarter-ton of beef

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Sun, 19 May 2013 14:44:00 +0000

On Friday, I went down to pick up the meat from the two animals we had butchered a couple weeks ago. We have about 650 lbs. of beef coming to us, only 150 lbs. of which we'll be keeping.

The drive down to Potlatch is always so pretty this time of year. The Palouse is almost impossibly green with early winter wheat beginning to grow. And the isolated farms look story-book picturesque.

The butchers keep their facility squeaky-clean.

Here's the freezer unit. Each customer's meat is kept in labeled trays.

Here's the cooler unit, where they hang carcasses for a week or ten days, which tenderizes the meat.

Here's some of the regular as well as specialty services these butchers offer.

Anyway, I loaded my car to groaning with packaged beef, and drove home.

Next step: clean out the freezer!

In order to fit everything in, we had to be brutal in selecting what stays and what goes. Don made some wooden partitions to help keep things sorted and organized.

We inventoried as we packed the freezer so we would know what we have.

A lot of people from our church are interested in the meat, so the freezer won't be this way for long.

It took a lot of creative maneuvering and clever packing, but we finally got almost everything in; though forty-seven pounds of overflow ground beef are being stored in a neighbor's freezer.

With butchering costs, the price of this beef (organic and grass-fed!) is about $1/lb. Of course that doesn't take into effect feed costs, which I'm estimating adds another ten cents per pound.

We haven't bought beef in so many years that I haven't paid attention to beef prices. So last week when I was in Costco (whose beef is, presumably, among the cheapest available), I wrote down some costs. And oh. My. Goodness. I was horrified. When did beef prices skyrocket like this? Who on earth can afford to pay $12 a pound for ribeye steak? No wonder folks are interested in our meat! Raising our own beef is definitely worth it.

And what are having for tonight's neighborhood potluck dinner? Why, pot roast of course!

Greetings from your friendly neighborhood terrorist

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Sat, 18 May 2013 12:47:00 +0000

Here's my WND column for this weekend entitled Greetings From Your Friendly Neighborhood Terrorist.

Bellows from the barn

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Fri, 17 May 2013 18:38:00 +0000

I woke up about 2:50 am this morning and heard bellowing in the barn. "Sounds like a cow's in labor," I said.

"How do you know?" Don mumbled sleepily.

I got up and got dressed. More bellowing came from the barn.

"Oh," he said. "Let me know if you need help."

The two heifers who have been tucked in the corral for the last week are first-time moms (by definition a "heifer" is a female cow who hasn't yet given birth; presumably her status changes into "cow" the moment the calf drops) and I wanted them close just in case they had any difficulties birthing or nurturing their babies.

The night was fairly mild (40F) but very foggy. By the time I stumbled into the corral with a flashlight at 3 am, I saw that Victoria had already dropped her baby and was vigorously licking it. I tried to take photos, but the camera flash only picked up the misty fog and made it look like snow.

I stayed in the corral for quite awhile and watched by flashlight. For a long time Victoria danced around her calf in some befuddlement, bellowing and licking, bellowing and licking. Her back was still hunched, and I wanted to make sure she wasn't having twins. But as the night waned and dawn crept in, it was clear her discomfort stemmed from the fact that the placenta hadn't dropped.

The calf (a little girl) stumbled to her feet and began searching for the udder, but Victoria kept dancing away, not quite sure what this strange creature wanted. But 5 am when it got light enough to take photos, Victoria was sorta kinda getting the hang of it. At least she allowed the baby to get some life-nourishing colostrum in her.

Dawn came in quiet mist.

Victoria was still uncomfortable because of the placenta, but she calmed down enough to let this strange little creature that came out of her, nurse. First-time cows are pretty funny -- you can almost hear them say, "What IS this thing?" when this little calf stumbles toward them searching for the udder.

Still hunched and uncomfortable.

But the calf is strong and a healthy nurser.

She's a pretty little thing with rosy rings around her eyes.

By 6 am, Victoria lay down, exhausted. She still hadn't passed the placenta.

Unable to stay still for long, she was soon on her feet. Despite her cramps and contractions, she allowed the calf to nurse.

At 6:50 am, I just happened to be photographing the calf when Victoria hunched once again and strained. I was pleased to see the placenta make its way out at last.

Rather ugly, ain't it?

Here it comes!

Ahhhh. Now she'll feel better!

After this, Victoria perked right up and got down to the serious business of learning to mother. She's doing very well.

Because of the rosy rings around the calf's eyes, we decided to call her Rosy.

Little Rosy is just the second out of eight calves we're expecting this season. Calves for sale in a year!

Sad loss

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Fri, 17 May 2013 16:50:00 +0000

I just learned this morning that Elijah, Lydia's father, passed away.

The wonderful folks at Agape Ranch are the reason we have Lydia, and Elijah was such an integral part of Jim and Carol's lives that I can't imagine them without him.

The term "gentle giant" certainly applied to Elijah.

He was well loved by everyone, but none more so than Carol and Jim.

Godspeed, Elijah.

Amazing what kids can do

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Fri, 17 May 2013 14:28:00 +0000

I am continuously delighted by my girls. It's amazing what they can do when they put their minds to it.

As a Venture Scouts project, Younger Daughter was required to pull together a meeting that reflected a hobby. She decided to put on a writer's workshop since she has a passionate interest in writing.

All by herself she contacted the Idaho Writer's League and presented her idea, and asked if anyone was willing to donate their time to this project. The IWL chapter president kindly passed this request on to the members, and Younger Daughter was blitzed with offers from writers generously willing to participate by giving a workshop.

She contacted the Coeur d'Alene public library about a meeting room, set a date, signed the required contracts (which I co-signed since she's a minor) and even paid the cleaning fee out of her own pocket, as was required by contract since she offered refreshments. The library's meeting room is only available for four hours on Saturdays, so Younger Daughter had to limit the number of workshop to three. In order to present as broad a spectrum of subjects as possible, she selected three writers (myself included) to give seminars on freelance writing, self-publishing, and fiction writing.

She kept in touch with her speakers and, as the day grew closer, she pulled together an advertisement (which I mocked up for her). She then sent this to local colleges, vocational schools, high schools, coffee shops, and placed the information in the Coeur d'Alene Press.

Attendance was modest (five people), but all five people were eager to learn, attentive to the speakers, full of excellent questions, and went home very very satisfied.

Younger Daughter welcomed the attendees to the workshop, introduced each speaker, thanked both the attendees and the speakers afterward, and followed up with thank-you notes to those who had helped her out.

This project was on par with Older Daughter's Venture Scouts project last November, which was to put on a music recital in a nursing care facility.

I'm so proud of my girls for having the gumption to pull together these kinds of activities.

Udder shots

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Thu, 16 May 2013 17:59:00 +0000

I am (temporarily) posting some udder photos for illustration purposes for a Backwoods Home Magazine dairy article I just submitted. These photos are so the editor can select which ones she prefers.

Photo 420 - Jersey/Dexter cross, three years old, second calving, recently freshened. Note the even floor (all four teats same length) and tight udder attachment.

Photo 438 - Same Jersey/Dexter cross as in Photo 20.

Photo 439 - Jersey/Dexter cross nursing her calf.

Photo 428 - Purebred Jersey heifer, 2.5 years old, nearly ready to have her first calf. Tight udder attachment, even floor.

Photo 431 - Same purebred Jersey heifer shown in Photo 428.

Photo from 2/10/11 - Purebred Jersey cow, approximately eight years old, sixth calf. Note the massive and pendulous udder with stretched ligaments and poor udder attachment.

Photo 480 - Purebred Jersey cow, approximately ten years old. Note the pendulous udder with stretched ligaments and poor attachment.

The basics of kitchen equipment

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Wed, 15 May 2013 17:49:00 +0000

I bought a new toy this week from a thrift store: a pastry blender. It cost a dollar.

I tried it for the first time while making biscuits for breakfast, and it worked just great.

I'd never used one of these gizmos before, but after watching a neighbor make biscuits with one, it looked like a spiffy idea. While a pastry blender isn't a necessity -- I've spent over twenty years making biscuits and pie crusts without it -- it was delightfully handy and easy to use. So, it's been added to my inventory of kitchen tools.

When Don and I were first married in 1990, I had only the most basic kitchen implements: some pots and pans, a few utensils, cups, etc. As I began cooking more, I gradually added more items that made cooking more convenient -- cookie sheets, measuring cups and spoons, mixing bowls, a bread board, a cutting board, etc. Since I'm not a gourmet cook I don't have "gourmet" items in my kitchen, but I have what is needed to cook from scratch.

Sometimes I am startled by what people lack in their kitchen. I'm not talking about newlyweds just getting started in life; I'm talking about established families whose kitchens lack mixing bowls or pie pans or a rolling pin. I recently met someone who didn't even own a single measuring spoon.

I understand why this is. It's because so few people cook from scratch anymore. People are busy, convenience food is cheap and abundant, and the art of a homemade meal has become rarer.

I don't pretend to be a culinary genius in the kitchen (in fact, I actually rather dislike cooking though I do enjoy baking) but knowing how to cook from scratch is, I feel, important. No, more than important -- essential.

Scratch cooking is one of those unheralded and under-appreciated skills that we should all learn because it's the answer to an obvious question: What would you do if frozen pizza or canned chile or boxed macaroni-and-cheese were not available? This is a particularly important question for Preppers because it affects what foods they store.

With a few exceptions, most of your food storage should be ingredients, not prepared food. This means basic staples from which you can assemble complete meals. Most staples (properly stored) will also last longer than most processed foods.

Endless numbers of Preppers have stored away endless amounts of rice and beans, but often they lack the ability to cook up those rice and beans in tasty ways. Worse, lots of people have wheat stored away, without any real comprehension of how to turn that wheat into a loaf of bread.

Our pioneer ancestors were experts at cooking from scratch. They had no choice. The food they grew, raised, or caught was in “scratch” form and needed to be transferred into something edible. And yet pioneer recipes have come down through the generations as testimonies of the wonderful and delicious ways in which basic foods could make marvelous and nutritious meals.

Sadly that ability –- to take raw ingredients and create delicious meals out of them –- is either watered down or gone. We are so entirely dependent on prepared foods from the grocery store (or deli or restaurant) that the definition of "scratch" cooking means making a cake from a boxed mix.

So challenge yourself to take a bag of dried beans and make a meal out of it. Learn how to cook grains, beans, and rice, in addition to meats, fruits, and vegetables. For an additional challenge, grow some of those component ingredients yourself. Make note, then acquire, the kitchen implements necessary to create meals from scratch.

Stocking the kitchen with the basic tools for scratch cooking doesn't have to be expensive, as my pastry blender demonstrates. Many items of excellent quality can be found in thrift stores.

So tell me -- what's your "must have" nonelectric kitchen tool you can't live without? Post it so others who are just beginning to stock their kitchens can learn.

Mother's Day calf

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Mon, 13 May 2013 17:10:00 +0000

We've been keeping two critters in our corral for the last week or so because they're close to calving. Lily is half-Jersey, half-Dexter; and Sparky is full Dexter. This will be a second baby for Lily but a first baby for Sparky.

It's always convenient if calves are born in the corral for two reasons; one, the animals have the shelter of the barn if they need it; and two, we can dehorn or castrate the calves without having to embark on a wild goose (calf?) chase across the pasture to capture them.

Anyway, we came home from our neighborhood potluck last night -- and saw that Lily had had her calf! She had just dropped it, and I mean just. The calf was still wet and hadn't gotten to its feet yet.

Altogether now: "Awwww...."

My parents flew in to visit last week and are staying in Coeur d'Alene. My Dad came in for last night's potluck, though my Mom wasn't feeling quite up to it. So Dad -- a city boy from birth -- got to see a newborn calf and he watched enraptured as the baby struggled to its feet and took its first nourishing meal of colostrum. He'd never seen a newborn calf before.

Lily spent a good deal of time licking her baby. This accomplishes three things: (1) it cleans the newborn; (2) it stimulates the baby's circulation; and (3) it familiarizes the cow with her baby's unique scent.

The rest of the herd was eager to catch a glimpse of the newcomer.

While we're not positive of the gender, the elegant long head makes me think it's a girl. Boys usually have shorter heads. Younger Daughter tentatively has named her Leto, after the Greek goddess of motherhood (since she was born on Mother's Day).

As a new mama, of course, Lily is fiercely protective of her baby. We kept our distance.

First attempt to struggle to her feet.

Careful now.... steady....

Not bad for a first try!

"Let's see... I know there's an udder around here somewhere..."

Getting wobbly...

Crash and burn.

Sparky, wildly curious about the baby, got too close...

...and was chased off.

"MY baby!"

Still wobbly but getting stronger.

Aha -- jackpot! All that good colostrum is getting inside.

What a nice Mother's Day gift for Lily.

I checked the calf this morning, and Leto looked strong and chipper and was nursing well.

Here's the dropped placenta, a good sign. (We'll dispose of this.)

An ever-watchful Lily.

First time in the barn.

Sparky still wanted to meet the baby...

...but Lily wouldn't have it.

Last night I noticed Victoria is bagging up too, so we pulled her into the corral (she's the red heifer). This will be Victoria's first calf as well.

See how bagged up she is?

Victoria has two supernumerary teats. These are harmless.

Looks like we'll have calves coming out our ears in the next couple of weeks!

Not convinced about goats

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Sun, 12 May 2013 21:33:00 +0000

Here's an interesting counter-opinion about the value of goats (or cows) that was posted on Interviewing a Goat Farmer.
________________________

I'm just not convinced of the value of goats. I live in a part of the country where goats are fairly common. I could take you to 20 places near me where they have 2, 3, half a dozen goats. In every case they (the goats) live in squalor. They aren't milked or treated like pets or used for any purpose. They simply are caged inside small fenced pens lie around in the mud and occasionally the owner tosses some hay at them. I could also take you to goat frams where the goats are well taken care of and milked but these are of course "businesses" not a few goats on a homestead. Why goats? yes I am aware that they give milk but so does every store in the world. I may go camping for three days tomorrow, I may on a whim go to Ireland for a week, I travel in a motorhome for weeks at a time. Sometimes I just stay home and relax. With goats (or cow, pigs and dogs for that matter) I couldn't do any of that. And it's more then not wanting to be tied down by animals it comes down to for what? What can the goats offer me? I can live the rest of my life without ever consuming goat milk or cheese. I certainly have no desire to eat goat meat. I think goat owners (casual goat owners) have a need to own animals much like the cat women you read about with 40 cats living in a small singlewide trailer. To what end??

The man behind the curtain

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Sun, 12 May 2013 00:38:00 +0000

Here's my latest WND column entitled Pay No Attention to the Man Behind the Curtain.

Interviewing a goat farmer

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Sat, 11 May 2013 15:18:00 +0000

I just finished writing a massive -- and I mean massive (8600 words) -- article for Backwoods Home Magazine called The Home Dairy. I was asked to write something fairly comprehensive (which explains the article length -- it's a huge topic) and to be sure to include cows AND goats.

Well I know plenty about milking cows, but goats? Not so much. I needed to find someone who milked goats. Preferably I wanted someone who wasn't a commercial dairyist (since the article is geared toward the home milker), but even in north Idaho this turned out to be surprisingly difficult.

After a few inquiries, I connected with a delightful woman named Susan who -- despite my phone call out of the blue from a perfect stranger -- graciously invited me over to see her goats and her setup.

My goodness, Susan absolutely loves her goats -- and it was easy to see why. "Goats are very personable," she said. "It's like having dogs." At the moment she has about 35 animals -- Alpine, Saanan, Oberhasli, La Mancha, Nigerian Dwarfs, and some crosses. She sells kids but does no butchering. She's worked with 4-H for about 25 years and helps many local kids get started with their animals.

The portion of the barn I saw had a large open pen at the end (pictured above), a milking stand, and a series of kidding pens.

This lady is one of the milkers, whom Susan obligingly kept in the barn until I arrived so she could show me how she milked.

This is their homemade milking stand. As with most stands for goats, it's elevated for easier milking. It has a feed box on the other side of the headpiece. Susan milks twice a day but keeps the kids on the does. She milks anywhere from two to four animals, depending on how much milk she needs.

The headpiece is an area where goats can be locked in by the neck so they don't move around during milking. Susan and her husband built a clever one that slides in place...

...and locks in with a nail.

Here's one goat in place.

And two goats.

Look at those beautiful udders! Two teats, not four (like a cow). Gotta get used to that.

Susan milks from the side, with her left wrist braced against the doe's hind leg to keep her from kicking. Couldn't do that with a cow!

The strong hands of an experienced milker.

Susan gets about a half-gallon per milking per animal, or about a gallon a day per doe.

After showing me her milking setup, Susan let the herd loose.

She has beautiful property with a small stream running through.

It was enchanting to watch these beautiful animals frolic in the spring sunshine.

Hungry kids.

This is a breed of dog called an Akbash. He's the herd guardian.

Goats, being goats, like to climb things, so Susan keeps the logs from this fallen tree in the pasture for their amusement.

This little fella is a La Mancha, a breed with tiny ears.

This is the herd sire, also a La Mancha.

It was delightful becoming more acquainted with these wonderful dairy animals. While I love my cows, it's easy to see why Susan is so taken with goats.

My thanks to Susan for graciously sharing her knowledge with me.

"Bear Poop and Applesauce" is now available!

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Wed, 08 May 2013 23:19:00 +0000

Have you ever wondered how on earth my husband and I ended up living the lifestyle we do? We didn't grow up farming. In fact, we had remarkably ordinary suburban lives until shortly after we were married. At that point we decided (to the dismay of our friends and families) to chuck it all and leave urban California and move into a shack in rural southwestern Oregon.

This story of our early years chronicles the first decade of country life, through the birth of our children, the beginning of our home woodcraft business, and the establishment of our early homesteading attempts.

Bear Poop and Applesauce is now available as an ebook through our ebook website, Self Sufficiency Series (dot com). The book is 188 pages in length and costs $9.95. I laid it out so (in theory) you can print it with two pages per sheet.

This book has been metaphorically languishing in my drawer for years, but we decided to put it up for sale now... with all proceeds to be used to pay off Don's hospital bills.

And how, you may ask, did we come up with the title? Well you'll just have to read the book to find out.

The journey begins...

Update on Don's condition

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Tue, 07 May 2013 15:09:00 +0000

Last Thursday Don had his first follow-up appointment since he was hospitalized for acute kidney failure a couple weeks ago. Thankfully his kidneys are working fine now, but he spent the last two weeks with a catheter and catheter bag. Not fun. He's also been on medication to shrink the prostate, which is at the root of all these issues.

So on Thursday morning, we were instructed to remove the catheter six hours before his appointment (meaning, about 8 am), which we did. It rapidly became apparent that the catheter was still necessary because he was still blocked from urinating. What fun.

Several calls to the urologist's office followed, and it was determined that he needed to come in earlier than his scheduled appointment. I drove him in to Coeur d'Alene, he disappeared behind closed doors, and they withdrew a quart and a half of urine from his bladder. He felt MUCH better afterwards.

So obviously the problem is persisting. The urologist determined that the prostate is still grossly enlarged and had been slowly enlarging over several years. It just reached the tipping point in early April when all this started. The medication is taking so long to be effective that we'll have to see how things are in another two weeks or so.

Meanwhile they taught Don how to self-catheter. Yes, you heard that right. He's been an absolute trooper about this procedure, and in fact is quite cheerful about it, especially since he doesn't have to wear a bag or have the catheter tube in all the time. "Hey, urination is good!" he says jauntily. That's my man!

Bottom line, we're strongly considering some laser therapy treatment at some point in order to permanently shrink the prostate and keep this problem from periodically flaring up. We're also thinking about the long-term outlook. If Don had not had prompt access to hospital care when he did, this situation could have turned out far, far differently. We don't want the prostate to keep causing him difficulties which could prove grave if immediate medical care isn't available at some future point.

One outstandingly phenomenal piece of news -- thanks be to God! -- is there is no cancer in the prostate. That had us deeply concerned for awhile.

So that's the skinny so far. I want to thank everyone once again, from the bottom of our hearts, for your prayers and well-wishes, your get-well cards and emails, and your overall support. It means more to us than we can say.

UPDATE: A reader sent this, which I thought was remarkably apt.

Tattler lid sale

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Mon, 06 May 2013 15:15:00 +0000

You folks know how much I love my Tattler reusable canning lids.

Well I just word that Tattler is having a sale on their lids. Here's their announcement:

Effective immediately, TATTLER is offering two dozen FREE LIDS with every order over $75.

Additionally, EVERY ORDER OVER $250 will be entered to win an All American model 915 pressure canner!

To make it EVEN BETTER, (1) All American pressure canner will be given away for every 25 orders over $250, which means the ODDS OF WINNING are 1 in 25!

There are no codes to enter, everything is automatic and based on the final sale price. This is an extended offer for which an end date has not been set.

Act now to take advantage of this great promotion AND get your name entered to win one of the best pressure canners on the market courtesy of TATTLER Reusable Canning Lids, THE ORIGINAL, since 1976!

Thanks,
Loren C. Stieg

All American canners are the best on the market, IMHO, so this is a heck of a deal all the way around. If you've been toying with the idea of getting Tattlers, here's your chance!

Welcome to modern-day medicine

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Sun, 05 May 2013 13:31:00 +0000

I was reading the comments on an article recently when I came across this gem. I don't know if the poster wrote it or if it was one of those things circling the internet, but at any rate I thought it was well-written and worth highlighting.
______________________________

My Medical Appointment

I visited a physician last week who was quite enthusiastic. It was a “new” doctor in the practice, a young lady (at MY age, EVERYBODY is “young”! When I was born, the Dead Sea wasn‘t even sick!) She was obviously a liberal by her dress and manner. She asked me what was wrong, and I replied, “I have a cut on my leg; and I think it may be getting infected.”

She said, “Before we start, I have to ask you a few questions. Are you allergic to any medications?”

I replied, “No.”

She said, “Do you have any guns in the house?”

I said, “HUH??”

She replied, “Guns. Do you have any guns in the house?”

I asked, “Why?”

She said, “I’ve got to ask this question. It is required under the Affordable Care Act.”

I asked, “What are you going to do with the data?”

She said, “We compile it, amalgamate it, and submit it to the government.”

I said, “Well, I have a Tommy Gun. I let my kid Tommy play with it.”

She said, “What’s a Tommy Gun? I don‘t think that is the kind of gun they are concerned with.”

With THAT, I knew I had a live one. I said, “It’s similar to a B.A.R., but a little heavier and shorter. I have a B.A.R. also.”

She said, “A B.A.R.?”

I said, “Yes.”

She looked puzzled. Then she brightened up and asked, “Do you have any assault rifles?”

I attempted to look puzzled, and said, “I don’t know. What is an assault rifle?”

She said, “That’s a gun that is used in wars.”

I said, “As a matter of fact, I do. I have a replica of a Revolutionary War musket.”

She began to look a bit exasperated. I pretended not to notice and kept up the appearance of trying to be helpful.

She said, “Do you have anything more modern than that?”

I replied, “Well, yes I do. I have a replica muzzle loader from the Civil War. Do you know the difference between a musket and a muzzle loader?”

She rather peevishly said, “No, I don’t; and I don’t want to. What else do you have?”

I said, “I have an M-1.”

She asked, “What’s that?”

I said, “A rifle.”

She asked, “What kind?”

I replied, “It is called a Garand.”

She rather loudly said, “I don’t care if it is a grand rifle or not. Is it an assault rifle?”

To which I replied, “I don’t know. I don’t know what an assault rifle is. You say it’s a rifle used in war, yet you say that my musket and muzzle loader are not assault rifles.” She calmed down (a bit) and asked, “Anything else?”

I said, “I have an MG-.30, and an MG-.50. I‘m also part owner of an Apache. But they are not rifles.”

She stated, “Well, then, I’m not interested in them. Anything else?”

I replied, “Well, yes. I also have a 12-gauge and a 20-gauge pump. They are not rifled though.”

She said, “I’m not interested in pumps; I’m interested in guns.”

I replied, “Well, then, I have a Colt, a Luger, a Glock, a bazooka, a Parabellum, a Kalishnikov, a Henry, an Uzi, a Llama, and a Beretta--but they are not rifles.”

She then said, “I’ve had enough of this. I think you’re toying with me. Let me see your leg.”

I then said, “Excuse me, but before you look at my leg, I have a few questions to ask of you.”

She replied, “Of course. What are they?”

I said, “I have given you a lot of information about my guns. I am somewhat concerned about your knowledge and ability to assimilate, make coherent sense of that information, and report it correctly. Do you know the difference between a .22 caliber and a .223 caliber? It’s a rather fundamental difference.”

She replied, “Actually, I don’t.”

I said, “I see. Let me ask some more relevant questions. “How much money do you make?”

She said, “That’s personal, why do you ask?”

I said, “Well, in pushing the Health Care Act, my president cautioned the population about doctors that would amputate a leg rather than treat a cut because they make more money that way. Consequently, I wish to know if you are financially troubled. What kind of car do you drive? What are your house payments? How much is your mortgage? How much credit card debt do you have? Do you have a student loan; if so, how much?”

She said, “I’m not going to answer those questions. You have no right to ask them.”

I then asked, “Do you have training and education in homeopathic techniques? Do you know the benefits/effects of CoQ10, ginseng, fish oil, Creatine, BCAA, and other such herbal treatments?” Do you know the difference between Panax ginseng, American ginseng, and Siberian ginseng?”

She replied, “Well, No!”

I then asked, ”Well, have you studied it at all?”

She replied rather defensively, “NO; it’s all a bunch of hogwash anyway!”

I said, “Oh, then you have read the research on it. What have you read?”

She then said, “I don’t waste my time reading such things. Why are you asking me these questions?”

I said, “Well, if I’m going to turn my body over to you for treatment, I believe it is reasonable for me to know something about your motivation, training, experience, and competence. Do you know anything about the practice of holistic medicine?”

She said, rather angrily “No, I don’t!”

I said, “Oh. Okay. How much experience do you have in practicing medicine?”

She replied, “Well, not very much.”

To which I said, “Well, we all have to start somewhere. What medical school did you go to; what is its rank in terms of other medical schools; where did you intern; and where did you do your residency? What is the rank of the hospital where you did your internship and residency?”

She rather peevishly said, “All my credentials are posted in the waiting room.”

To which I said, “Really? The rank of your medical school is posted in the waiting room? Do you have any experience with leg injuries? If so, how much?”

I guess that was too much for her. She rather crossly said, “I think it would be best if you saw a different doctor.” ...and started to leave the room.

I said, “You know, doctor. You asked me irrelevant questions about my guns, and I answered them. Whether or not I own guns is really none of your business and has absolutely nothing to do with any treatment you might prescribe. On the other hand, I ask you questions quite relevant to my situation, and you refuse to answer them. Isn’t that somewhat backwards?”

She said, “But I HAVE to ask those questions. It’s the law.”

To which I replied, “Actually, it is NOT the law. Here is what the law says--taken directly from the Affordable Care Act:”

(1) WELLNESS AND PREVENTION PROGRAMS.—A wellness and health promotion activity implemented under subsection (a) (1) (D) may not require the disclosure or collection of any information relating to— (A) the presence or storage of a lawfully-possessed firearm or ammunition in the residence or on the property of an individual; or (B) the lawful use, possession, or storage of a firearm or ammunition by an individual.

(2) LIMITATION ON DATA COLLECTION.—None of the authorities provided to the Secretary under the Patient
Protection and Affordable Care Act or an amendment made by that Act shall be construed to authorize or may be used for the collection of any information relating to— (A) the lawful ownership or possession of a firearm or ammunition; (B) the lawful use of a firearm or ammunition; or (C) the lawful storage of a firearm or ammunition. You may verify this at: this link (see pg. 20) and this link.

“As you can see, you have broken federal law TWICE — once by asking, and once by collecting data. It is perfectly legal for me to own guns; it is NOT legal for you to ask and/or collect such data. YOU are breaking the law, and yet YOU are the one that is angry. Not only that, but you erroneously stated that you must ask such questions, and you did it in a very authoritative and convincing manner. You gave me false information, which I then acted upon by answering your questions. On that basis, how can I be expected to trust your medical judgment? When I attempted to ascertain your medical competency, you became defensive and hostile. There is really no need for me to see another doctor in this practice. I‘ll go somewhere else, where my privacy is respected, and I can trust the information I receive.”

Semper Fidelis,
Marty
Colonel, U. S. Marine Corps, Retired

Blue collar workers, unite!

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Sat, 04 May 2013 13:31:00 +0000

I got an out-of-the-blue email this week from a fellow named Joe Wurzelbacher. Never heard of him? Sure you have. He's popularly known as Joe the Plumber. I first mentioned him on this blog back in 2009.

Anyway, Joe gave me his phone number and invited me to call concerning his website JoeForAmerica.com. Essentially he was interested in reprinting some of my earlier blog posts on his site. However we ended up having a delightful chat lasting over half an hour.

And the timing of his email and call was pretty ironic, because it just so happened that I was in the process of composing this weekend's WND column on the subject of blue collar America. And who better to represent that segment of society than Joe the Plumber?

Anyway, here's the column entitled Blue Collar Workers, Unite!, including some of Joe's answers to my questions.

And what's Joe like, at least over the phone? Extraordinarily nice. Down-to-earth. Practical. The kind of person you want as a next-door neighbor. I liked him a lot.

Of tractors and gardens

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Sat, 04 May 2013 03:50:00 +0000

We've been doing a tremendous amount of work in the garden lately.

A lot of this work involves moving large amounts of heavy things: gravel, tractor tires, compost... And, since Don and I aren't getting any younger, we're unashamedly making use of our neighbor's tractor. I can't even begin to describe how much time this has saved -- as well as pulled muscles.

Nearly every day, the girls and I go out and spread some more billboard tarps, then I bucket some gravel on them while the girls rake and shovel it around until it's roughly even. We'll "prettify" things later. Right now we have to get the infrastructure in place.

Here the girls choose a tarp...

...and carry it out to the garden.

Gust of wind!

That's why we're anchoring the tarps with gravel.

More tarps.

More spreading across the ground for weed control.

Don came out to enjoy the sunshine and help spread tarps and shovel gravel.

It seems like things are going slow, but we're definitely making progress! If you could see the waist-high weeds that were in this space last summer, you'll understand why we're going through all this work.

Meanwhile, the girls and I had moved these enormously heavy tractor tire halves (destined for strawberries) aside in order to put gravel on the tarps. Now it was time to move them back.

Here's where they're going, right next to one of the raised strawberry beds.

Originally I was going to slice the vinyl down to bare ground in order to allow proper drainage... but then Don suggested it may not be necessary because the gravel will provide suitable drainage and the tire is deep enough for the strawberry roots.

It's the same principle as putting a bit of gravel at the bottom of a flower pot and then putting the pot on a tray. The gravel ensures drainage, and the "tray" (the tarp, in this case) just funnels the water away. So I back-filled the tire centers with travel to support the hardware cloth.

I like putting hardware cloth on the bottoms of the tires to keep voles from tunneling up.

Anchored down with compost, the voles shouldn't be able to come up from the bottom.

And now for the hard part: I had to trundle composted manure in the garden cart from the compost pile to the garden. This is harder than it sounds. Not only is compost heavy (it's still wet from spring rains), but the good stuff is buried at the bottom of this seemingly bottomless mound of barn waste.

It would take at least seven or eight cartloads of compost to fill one of those enormous tire halves. Essentially, an all-day project since forking the manure into the cart takes about half an hour (because I have to push the top uncomposted waste aside in order to reach the composted stuff at the bottom). My back ached at the mere thought.

Ah, but I hadn't figured on the tractor. Don, bless his heart, did something we'd been needing to do for years anyway: turn the compost pile. He revved up and started pushing.

It literally took him ten minutes to do what would have taken me weeks to do by hand. What a blessing tractors are!

Almost finished. Can you see all that beautiful black gold that had been hidden at the bottom?

The chickens, of course, though we had done this solely for their benefit.

Ah, but the blessings of the tractor weren't finished yet. Don offered to scoop up and move the compost for me. YES!!

It took two scoops to fill that tire half... in only fifteen minutes or so. By hand, I'm estimating it would have taken four hours of back-breaking work.

Then I took over the tractor and started shunting and spreading more gravel.

But then it occurred to me. Before I had to return the tractor, what if we used it to fill yet more tractor tires? For we had two tires yet uncut.

So Don, good sport that he is, took the Saws-All and got busy. We tie the tire halves together so they won't flop open uncontrollably as he cuts his way around the circumference. These tires weigh upwards of 300 lbs., and have 150-lb. halves flopping down on us wouldn't be fun.

Ready to move. And how did we move it?

With the tractor!

In short order we had the first two tire halves down.

And then the second.

And then -- you guessed it -- he used the tractor to fill them with compost.

Altogether today Don filled six tractor tire halves and I moved at least twelve or fifteen loads of gravel. With a total of about one solid hour of tractor work (not counting ancillary work), that tractor has saved us untold hours of hard hard physical labor. God bless tractors as well as the friends who let us use them!

We have lots and lots of work left to do to get the garden into full capacity, complete with weed control and deer-proofing. Without the tractor, it would take weeks longer than it is.

Another geek-day celebration

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Fri, 03 May 2013 18:51:00 +0000

Coming as I do from a family of geeks, I'm surprised I never heard of this until I heard of it from a friend. But apparently today is International Star Wars Day because -- are you ready? -- it's May 4th. As in, "May the fourth be with you."

So Happy Star Wars Day! May the Fourth be with you!

UPDATE: Oops. Today is May the Third. That's what happens when you work at home -- you totally lose track of the calendar.

Fight or flight?

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Fri, 03 May 2013 11:51:00 +0000

A reader named Heather sent an email as follows:

I wonder why more people - especially Christians, aren't considering fleeing the country. Personally, I don't have any hope in the future of this country, and I don't have any hope that we will be able to defend ourselves when push comes to shove with the government. Guns or no guns, they have bombs, tanks, and chemical means.

I often think of Hitler and the way he slowly took away freedoms. How some Jewish families left and for others, by the time they realized the need to leave, it was too late and they weren't allowed to. Should we leave before it's too late?

Would you consider addressing this on your blog? I'm really interested to know that other people think. I realize that our country has been the best in the world for so long but it isn't any more.

Heather raises an interesting point. I'm certain the notion of "flight" has occurred to a lot of people. But the big question remains, flight to... where?

I'm reminded of the slogan from the Canada Free Press: "Because without America there is no free world."

In many respects, America is the last frontier for liberty. This doesn't mean I haven't trolled Google Earth looking for uninhabited islands where we could be left in peace; but for the time being, we'll bide here because I can't think of anywhere else that's better for personal freedoms (despite our government's attempts to limit them).

Thoughts?

Sad loss

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Fri, 03 May 2013 04:03:00 +0000

I heard a lot of bellowing coming from down in our woods this evening. That often indicates a cow jumped a fence or something is otherwise amiss. I decided to investigate.

Sadly, I saw this:

One of our heifers gave birth some time today and the calf died. He -- for it was a little bull calf -- was already cold and stiff when we found him. We have no idea why he didn't make it. He didn't have any obvious birth defects and there were no indications of trauma.

This is Shadow, the mother. She's young, and this is her first calf. Could there have been birthing difficulties? Could she have rejected him? We weren't home this afternoon, so we simply don't know. At any rate, Shadow is understandably distressed.

You know, we've raised cattle since 1999, and this is the first calf we've ever lost. The first.

Don and I double-bagged the poor baby and put him in the back of the truck. We'll take him to the dump tomorrow. We can't leave him out in the woods since there's too much of a chance a carnivore may be attracted.

Sigh.

Shell-less egg

noreply@blogger.com (Patrice Lewis) — Thu, 02 May 2013 13:55:00 +0000

If you keep chickens for any length of time, once in awhile you'll come across a shell-less egg.

Take this one, for example. Looks pretty ordinary, doesn't it?

But it has no shell, only the inside membrane keeping it together.

The membrane is actually surprisingly tough. It hardens up a bit when exposed to air, and this egg was sitting in the coop all night.

The egg inside is perfectly fine. I just tore the membrane open.

It's fun to have a little variety once in awhile.