Reclaiming the yard

So many projects have been undertaken here in the past 7 years.  

This sequence of photos from the front yard tells me that yes, we ARE making progress.  :)

The view from the street may still look overgrown, and there is the area on the other side of the driveway by the garage that is being fenced in now, but THIS shows me that we are making a difference.

We started the fence line around the front north and east edge of the farm in 2014.  Finished it in 2015 when the Westenburg boys were here for a week.  

Grazed Bessie the cow and then the sheep/goats on it for what was left of the summer of 2015 and for most of last year...  Seeded with some orchard grass and clover last fall.  

Re-seeded this spring with more pasture grasses and clovers.  Bessie's fertilizer bombs have exploded into thick and very healthy clumps of clover, her legacy to the farm in the form of beautiful, composting stuff...

The garlic mustard used to be waist-high.  The blackberry thickets sliced our skin as we tried to harvest the tiny, not-so-juicy berries.  The gooseberry bushes were in too much shade to ever give us much fruit.  There was nightshade (DEADLY poisonous nightshade) hidden in the weedy growth.  The mulberry, buckthorn and walnut saplings have mostly been weeded out or girdled effectively by the goats...

You can see a real difference in the growth and management of the area this spring.  The house and it's great historic features can finally be seen without needing to push through bramble thickets or wade through Queen Anne's lace and invasive garlic mustard...  

The house is an upright-and-wing style, with beams in the basement that supposedly date back to the 1860's, with those tiny windows in a row at the top where the old attic/sleeping area used to be.  There was at one time a chimney on the very corner of the house, which likely brought heat upstairs to the attic where (historically, although there is no written record that this practice applied to THIS house) children might have slept as close to that warmth as possible in the winter.  The base of the chimney and some of the old bricks are still surfacing in some areas, where the dirt gets disturbed by heavy rains or by dogs digging after chipmunks...  (It's rather exciting to find the old chunks of coal or bits of old pottery as we walk through after any of the spring rains...)  

There is still some trimming with a hack-saw and maybe even a chain-saw to be done, but slowly, ever so slowly, we are reclaiming this tiny property and making it ours.   

The beauty that was hidden under all of the wild and weedy growth is finally coming to light, once again.

 

Laura

Silo Surprise

Our little mama cat was waddling yesterday morning, as hugely pregnant as she's ever been.

By evening, she was twirling her tail under Taffy's nose, and the baby bump was conspicuously missing.  

With the help of a flashlight, I located these little cuties in the silo, all tucked in and safe.  

She has always had four.  This time there seem to be five.  And the solid black one is a new thing.  

The scruffy gray long-hair tabby male has been hanging around and even going boldly into our barn, so I am sure he is once again the vagrant father.

Sooooo cute.  If they are still safely tucked in under the board today, I'll pick them up and get some better photos.

This is such a relief.  The 2 year old daughter of the mama was also pregnant, due a month ago.  She went missing a few days after she was due to have the kittens, and we haven't seen her since.  Last year, she was the one who abandoned her kittens in various unreachable places on the third floor of the barn, let them die, and then nursed her own half-grown brother for months instead of caring for her own babies.

The experienced mama knows where it's safe, and her kittens are always something special.  Stay tuned for close-ups and progress!!!

 

Laura

Her bags are packed...she's ready to go....

Cameo arrived in Chicago!!! 

 This morning, one of our American Guinea Hogs was loaded/lured into the largest dog crate I've ever seen. The Lincoln Park Zoo staff hoisted it into their large van, and away she went. (Photos taken behind the barn, and then after loading in the zoo transport van)
I got the call about 2 hours later that she is in her new surroundings, the keepers are pleased with her calm demeanor, and she is settling in nicely. 

She is going to be in the Farm in the Zoo section, at the free public zoo in Chicago.

 Good luck, Cameo! Have fun in the big city!  Don't get too spoiled with the vet staff waiting on you every day of your stay...  And the much cleaner living space than if you were here at home...  And the adoring Chicago-land public, oohing and aahing over your babies...  And all the extra attention that a friendly pig might receive at a zoo with animal lovers on the staff...  

Well, maybe you'll be glad to come back in a couple of months, to your mud wallow and the relative peace and quiet of the pens behind the barn...

 Babies due: June 1st.  If that date comes and goes, then 3 weeks later.  But we're pretty sure that what we witnessed nearly 4 months ago was a successful effort on the part of our boar, Lawnmower...

 If anyone visits the Farm-in-the-Zoo at Lincoln Park Zoo, please send pics of the mama guinea hog and her babies! I'll post the tales of her adventure here.

 

Laura

Mothers Goose and Hen

Something new.  And rather bizarre.  It has to do with the fierce dedication of a certain barnyard mother....

For the past 4+ weeks, a goose has been sitting on 6 eggs.  Large goose eggs.  

And a chicken hen invited herself to "help".  I kept collecting the chicken eggs, so the chicken with an urge to be a mother spied the nest of eggs and decided that it would be hers, come what may.

The goose was possessively on her own eggs, and the determined chicken kept rearranging the nest, tweaking the arrangement of hay and feathers, settling her tiny self on the much larger eggs, sneaking eggs out from under the sleeping goose to settle on them herself.

At one point, a horrified visitor pointed out the nearly hidden body of the chicken under the larger body of the goose and asked with fear in his voice "Is that goose....KILLING that chicken?"  

Nope, the chicken was just being more stubborn than the goose, and refusing to budge.  So the goose simply settled on top of the nest, chicken and all.

The goose hissesd at us, constantly.  Some bodily harm has been threatened towards this angry mama, by our kids...not without reason.  I like the sight of the geese, but the family is right, they are downright annoying.  They seem to INVITE a swift kick with their hissing and screeching.  (We practice restraint....)

A few days ago, the hissing got worse, if that could be imagined.

I risked having my nose snapped at or getting an angry red welt on my shin, but there, peeking out from under the goose (not the chicken), were two sets of tiny shiny eyes.  Another gosling hatched within 12 hours.

I fully expected the babies to follow their rightful mama, and ignore the clucking and proud mother chicken.  Nope again.  

Mama hen and mama goose set out to explore the barn with three little babies in tow, each of the mothers calling to the babes in their own way, goslings happily falling over themselves to keep up with the mothering team.

When the goose had settled back on the nest (with three eggs remaining), the mother hen settled in the middle of the barn floor.  I hadn't seen where the goslings were, but "intuition" said they'd be under the goose.

I needed to get through with sheep water, so I picked up the angry hen....to see three fluffy yellow goslings snug under the chicken's wings while Mother Goose sat on the last eggs...

The three eggs in the nest were likely rotten, so at the earliest opportunity (when the goose was far, far away and suitably distracted at the farm dog who had innocently wandered in behind me), I scooped them up.  No need for rotten eggs to explode and poison the air with that stench...  

In my hands, as I walked out of the barn to toss the eggs to the pigs, I heard a tiny peep.  Mother Goose's furious attention and flashing red eye was immediately on me.  There was no way I was going past her to reach that nest.  There was another, much safer option.

The incubator has been going at the hatching temp of 98 degrees for the past few months, one hatch after another.  Duck eggs are currently incubating in there, a week from potential hatch date.  So in went the three remaining goose eggs, and within the afternoon, another gosling was born.

On the safety front, the goose chose an opportune place to lead her family.  Last night, we set up the large (empty and dry) water tank in an also-empty stall in the barn, so that we could  move 2 dozen chicks out of our upstairs bathroom.  With the tank set up, the chicks peeping inside, and the sound of young poultry in an empty stall....who should toddle conveniently in but the dynamic duo of chicken, goose, and three goslings.  It was a Eureka! moment.  Close the door, contain the hissing mother(s), and keep the babies safe.  I had considered luring them in there, but had also decided to save my shins and not bother with moving them.  Perfect timing on the part of the mom(s), such joy on my part as I chortled with glee...and shut them in.

It was SOOOO much nicer to be able to walk safely through my own barn this morning.

The newest member of the creative poultry family joined the siblings under the chicken/goose warmth this morning, when I could keep an eye on the interaction.  Mama hen (chicken) was very concerned that one baby was being left behind as the older ones toddled after the goose mama.  Before I was done with chores, though, all four little fluffballs were settled under their two mamas, happy and warm.  The youngest is at a disavantage, but I think all will be well.

And all of this new-family-adventure happened on the most suitable weekend possible.  Mother's Day weekend.  

Happy Mother's Day to all of my friends; human, goose, and chicken alike.  :)

(Let me amend that....the goose chooses NOT to be my friend.  But I wish her happy Mother's Day anyway.)

Laura

Dog photos

Remy continues to win the hearts of everyone he meets.  

Taffy meeting the new lambs (and she was more interested in the tennis ball, while the lambs were VERY curious about her)

Remy is absolutely in love with babies...  Especially this little girl.  

Waldo's master is holding the tennis ball....  But Remy is scheming on how to snatch it and run playfully away before Waldo notices. 

And...how you sleep doesn't matter as long as you *crash* after a full day of work and exercise.  Miss Taffy was exhausted.

Hope you all had beautiful, wonderful weekends, too.

 

Laura

Easter lamb

I've been watching May the ewe for the last month.  She looked big enough to have twins.  And she is the right age to no longer have a single lamb, but at least twins.  

She has been uncomfortable, sitting to reposition her babies, becoming a wide and comfy resting place for her little twin half-brothers, being generally mild-mannered but also physically miserable.  

To back-track a bit:  May and her daughter Merry are constant companions.  Both mother and daughter were put in with Boy Blue, one of my two young rams, back in October.  The other three ewes (April, May's mother; Sunny, another daughter of April; and a little crossbred ewe that I kept to see if she'd have twins this year) were in with Luther.

When there was absolutely no interest or reaction on Boy Blue's part (for over 20 days, when their cycles are roughly 17 days long), I put mom and daughter in with the other ram who at least seemed a *little* bit interested in my purpose for keeping him...

If my smugness at breeding all of the sheep and goats for March babies had been justified, we would have had all of the babies born before spring break.  Lesson learned.  No smugness next fall, no grand expectations that my planning was flawless, and no guarantees.  

May would have been through at least one full cycle with Boy Blue, and at least one full cycle with Luther, before she was actually bred.  The rams were young, inexperienced, and the vet was explaining that a young ram might stay with one ewe who has caught his attention where an older ram might entertain more than just one lady at a time...  Hmmm.

Merry still has not lambed, and I'm not sure she will.  

Anyway, I knew May was pregnant.  I had peeked under her tail numerous times while she was munching her hay, and went so far as to feel her udder last week.  She was pregnant.  It would be soon.  I set up the maternity enclosure for her, and we waited 24 hours more.

Then she went into labor.  It was a long day on Wednesday, watching her shift and stretch, knowing I could not help her to get those babies into position...  Contractions seemed to get stronger in late afternoon.  I had to make dinner.  Wouldn't you know it...the meat that I had thawed was LAMB...  Sigh.

I skipped dinner, because it was time.  (When Jeff brought dinner out to me later, in the barn, we joked about the "Meat that must not be named in present company".  It just seemed wrong, somehow...)

She had pushed until I could just barely see the first lamb's nose.  And then labor seemed to stall.  A bit later, she pushed the head out, to behind the ears.  And stopped again.  

I remembered what the vet had told me a few years' back.  Feel carefully back along the lamb's body.  Feel for the front feet.  Move the feet into position under the chin.  

But the feet were no-where to be felt, because as far back as I could feel, was the larger part before you would reach shoulders.  And those shoulders were firmly lodged behind a point where there was no more room for my fingers...

I called the vet for advice.  It was over half an hour since that little nose had appeared.  Baby was not breathing, head was still out, it was moving just a bit so I knew there might still be hope.

I couldn't reach him.  My cell phone had no signal.

So, I felt inside of May once more.  With the nose showing for so long, I didn't want to push the lamb all the way back in to fish around for the feet.  I used the home phone to call again.

May managed to push and shove and cry out and shove some more, until that little lamb's shoulders were nearly out.  I had a hold of it, but it was May that gave the final heave which freed the shoulders.  

The little/large one had taken one tentative breath, about a minute before.

May lay down, and the lamb slid out with a little help from me.  There was a little movement, but no more attempts to breathe.  She just lay there.  (And yes, after two sets of male twins, my eyes sought out whether it was male or female in less than a split second).

I thought we had lost her.

Towels were grabbed to clear her mouth and nose.  Straw was used to tickle inside of her nose.  Towels were used again to rough up her sides and do an approximate gentle imitation of CPR compressions.  Mama May was now helping, with licking and little nickering noises.  

It seemed like an eternity that this little lamb just lay there, motionless.  

And then, miraculously, it took a gurgly breath and kept trying to breathe. 

 

With May cleaning her daughter, I took the opportunity to leap out of the enclosure and get the blue bulb syringe, to more thoroughly clean out the nostrils and throat.  

I thought it had been a drastic mistake, when I got back and saw her just lying there limply.

But now that I've drawn you into my drama, I'll say....she lived.  

About then, the vet got through to me on the home phone (which I was clutching tightly, out in the barn).  I told him what I had witnessed, and we both agreed that the ewe should be checked for either a second live twin, or one that had died and would not be delivered without help.  May was not acting as if she would be doing any more pushing.  Labor was over, as far as her body was telling her.

It took about an hour, but he got there at about the time the little ewe lamb was finally gathering strength enough to nurse.  May was having some mild contractions, but nothing that would expel anything else.  

The size of this lamb should have been the clue.  There was not a second one.  This girl was THE lamb.  Poor May.

It's two days later.  May is still recovering.  I am going to give her a shot of penicillin tomorrow if she still seems the least bit "off".  

Not like the other ewes, who are up and eager to attend to their babies after a quick delivery.  This was a hard one.  And we almost lost a lamb.  It would have been the first to die because of labor complications since we started keeping sheep.

I had the thought to name her "Grace", because the words that came unbidden into my mind as we were losing her was to ask for saving grace.  It wasn't even a conscious thought until later, when I remembered.

But she is here in time for Easter.  And she lived.  

We may need to name her "Easter".  

And she may be the one that gets to stay.  

 

Laura

Dazzling babies!

Photos:  Dazzle's kids, Dazzle herself when she was still hugely and uncomfortably pregnant, and proud (but quite unaware) papa Turbinado.

Dazzle the fainting goat had her kids.  She was bred to Turbinado at my friend Vikki's place, but both were already promised to me.  Vikki wanted me to have them, I wanted to have them, we just hadn't gotten them here before winter set in and the buck-in-rut stench was too strong for either of us to haul him in our vehicles (which also double as family transport).  

I picked them both up in January or February, carefully, so as not to disturb any budding pregnancy on Dazzle's part.

April is the month that Vikki said was the due date window, and...here we are!  

I finally felt (or didn't feel) what the loss of ligaments by the tail head means.  It's a sign that every single "What to watch for when your goat is close to delivery" tutorial says to check.  I have been unsuccessful at knowing what is missing until this afternoon.  It's hard to describe, but what I was "supposed" to feel for was two pencil-thin ligaments, one on on each side of the tail, which would loosen to the point that you can't feel them right before delivery.  

Udder full to bursting?  Check.

Restlessness?  Check.

Hmm...let's check the ligaments.  Surprise, there were so obviously none to be felt that I checked again.  

Loss of ligaments?  CHECK!

The barn cam was helpful again.  I had the sound on.  The cry of a doe delivering a large kid is unmistakable.  I didn't even need to look.

The first doeling was born before I got out to the barn, with the second soon after.  

Such beautiful babies!  These parents (and Vikki's planning!) produced some stunningly beautiful doelings.  

(One thing for me to remember when I match the handsome Turbinado with any of the does this fall.  His babies as newborns are the same size as Moose Track's babies at 2 weeks old.  He sires large kids, which means I will not breed him to anything except a doe that has kidded before, and who is not petite...)

I was privileged to watch life enter the world, again.  It never seems to get old, even if it is livestock on the farm.  

And for that, all thanks goes to God!  :)

Laura