Day of the Corn

Look at all that corn!

It probably doesn't seem like it, but there's about 4 bushels there.

We spent only an hour shucking the corn, and I say only because we pretty much spent the time playing with the goats and sheep. We had let them into the front yard with us so we could monitor them and throw them the shucks.



Betty steals from the chicken scraps.



After a while (a very, very small while) the critters came to us for the shucks, and demanded to eat the shucks by our feet and not those thrown aside for them.

Then, they discovered the chicken scrap bowl where we had dropped green tops.



Dodge slobbering corn all over the place.



It went down hill from there. We fed scrap corn directly to the critters, they were in our laps, and were helping themselves by eating shucks as we shucked them. But it was all good fun any way, and we began to "dress" any nearby victims in corn shucks and silk. 



Caspian wearing a shuck. What a cutie!



Angus in a silky 'do.

Caspian wearing silk.

 It wasn't too long before all the corn was shucked, and we brought it in.

Then, the real work began.

Corn was washed, trimmed, and- no clue what it's called- removed of kernels.

We pressure canned a final total of 5 half-pints, 36 pints, and five quarts. That's just under 9 gallons of corn kernels. We only had one canner going and finished at five am the next morning. Mind you, I then slept till noon.

It doesn't sound like a lot of work. I know it doesn't. But it took all day, and we have at minimum a years supply of corn on our shelves. I'm just thankful for this corn, for knowing where it came from, for knowing what it took, and for being able to do it ourselves.



Freshly shucked corn.



New Kid on the Block

The New Kid Sebastian

Our intentions in owning goats were always been clear: milk and meat. We had a great, simple plan in mind. We’d have our handful of milkers, a buck or two, and when kidding time came we’d decide who we may keep, who we may sell, and all the little boys would be wethered and sent off to freezer camp.

It was foolproof. Nice and easy.

And it really is. This year we had 7 kids and 3 lambs. Four kids and two lambs are going to the freezer this fall. We’ve already had tastes of both meats (some annoying wethers we got from neighbors a few years back and a yearling ewe who was having problems), and enjoyed it.

The two lambs have a huge daddy and are already bigger than their mommas. They’re bulking up quite nicely. But, the kids. They’re daddy’s a Nubian and they’re momma’s are all dairy breeds. So even though they aren’t truly skinny, they aren’t quite bulky either. It’s not too big a deal- they’ll still be good eats. It’s just not ideal.

So, we contacted a nice lady who owns Tennessee Fainters, a meat breed. We scheduled the day, found a good time, and drove up to get the little boy, and the solution to our problem. The plan is to still use the dairy mammas who produce great milk, and have half-meat kids that are better suited for dinner.

I’ve never dealt with fainters before, and I honestly expected to faint more easily than they did. (The whole time we were there only one froze up- and it was just her hind legs as our truck rolled up.) Call me an amateur, but I might as well have expected a penny dropping to flip them over.

Anyway, we stood outside the pasture fence, and she showed us our options. I had our little buck picked out before my mom could get a word in edgewise. He had horns (which I just then learned grew to be like those really cool cashmere horns!) which I wanted because of their beauty. And, he had remarkable blue eyes! Ah, the beauty of them!

Catching him was quite simple. The lady let us into her pasture, and tossed some feed. The little guy was between the fence and feeder and was trapped there by a bigger goat. I reached in and scooped him up, easy as that. I almost feel cheated out of my exercise. Goat chasing is the only real exercise I ever get. :P

Just look at those blue eyes! They’re sort of whitish, but so pretty! As a whole, the little buck is mighty handsome. We named him Sebastian.

The trip home was easy. He kept calling to his momma before we left, and then just flat calling as we drove away, but you can’t expect any different. Again, in my amateurism I expected the speed bumps and loudness of the city we went through to make him faint. He didn’t and I’m sort of proud of him.

In the picture, I was trying to pet on him, but it was a useless attempt. All he cared about was getting back to his herd. But that’s alright, we were taking him home to a new one.

I didn’t take too long to get home, and we let him loose into the barn where he could meet a few girls through the back gate (as well as some big, scary draft horses). We let another goat and a sheep in with him to provide company, and let him settle. 

 Isn’t he gorgeous!

Back In The Routine

Here recently, we've been slacking in our farm duties. Well, I shouldn't say slacking- there is always a LOT to do: picking veggies, caring for critters, and all that goodness. And we've done most of it.

But, there's that bit we haven't: milking.

I love fresh goat's milk. I even enjoy the satisfaction of milking, knowing where the milk came from and that my own two hands were a part of it. Sometimes I wonder how I got out of the routine. 

I guess I really do know. We let our kids nurse off their momma's, so we stop milking for a month or two or three... and then we get lazy. I get lazy. It's so nice to sleep in, you know? Then there's the hand cramps that come with getting your hands use to the rythm and movement of milking again. There's fighting the onery first fresheners who don't want to be milking. Fighting the hordes so you only bring in one or two goats at a time.

It's tougherthan it seems.

But, today that's changing. We moved the buck away from the gall's (to prevent musky tasting milk), and started the process. We're milking four goats this year, and bring them in two at a time. Mom with a big girl, and me with a small. It's done in no time, and things are as they should be.

Now, there's just the matter of not getting lazy again.