I can't believe I didn't blog once during the month of September. A lot has changed since my last post.
The pigs are gone. Well, I guess not really "gone," more like frozen. We butchered them at the very beginning of September, and we got the meat back on September 19th. The day they left, I wasn't sad at all really. They had a great life and it was time for them to go. Those three little pigs sure gave us a hard time loading them into the livestock trailer though. They didn't want to get in that trailer for anything! The pig loading crew consisted of Luke, Austin, a volunteer, and me! The pigs didn't want to go gently, and they needed a little persuasion to get in the trailer. It wasn't helpful that we had two women present who thought you could "call" them into the trailer with little sayings like "here, pig, here girl," and then making little clicking noises. Luke's method wasn't working either, simply because our pathway to the trailer was too big so the pigs kept turning around. Ultimately, with a little help from an experienced pig farmer, we got them loaded, but it took a little over two hours.
Now that the meat is back - well, they are delicious! Mmm, I love digging into the bacon! I believe we've tried the deli ham, pork chops, and bacon now. All delicious! And how awesome, knowing exactly where your food is coming from. With the addition of the pork and the chicken, we can easily make a meal entirely raised by us. Actually, we have to much meat from killing the pigs and butchering our second batch of chickens that we had to buy another chest freezer! Chives Restaurant also bought one pig, and we were honored to hear that their menu is now featuring a "Twin Elm Gardens Pork Chop." I believe it is paired with our own potatoes and greens as well. It really is a wonderful feeling to know you are contributing to a local food movement! :)
I also don't think I blogged about the rabid dog incident....but that should really be its own post....so maybe I'll try to do to that tomorrow.
Luke and I are officially homeowners, which is very exciting. We bought the farmhouse from Luke's parents, so it is now officially our homestead. Of course, the second we because homeowners, we instantly started renovations, but that is okay - and fun! We are putting in a wood burner, and tearing out the carpet in the living room. Because wood will now be our main source of heat, Luke has been spending a lot of time chopping wood to get ready for the winter.
Making firewood has a strong foothold in my memories. Growing up, firewood was the main source of heat in my own home as well. I can remember splitting wood with my dad - he would hold the big stumps in place, and I had the very difficult job of pushing the hydraulic lever - forward and back, over and over. But what a great memory to have with my dad. That was always my job - my dad usually babied me, so not too often did I have to haul the wood - just work the wood splitter, which I loved. We also would have to get the wood in our basement, and that was a whole family experience.
My parents would load up the trailer of wood and then pull in front of the storm windows. My brother, sister, and I would all head outside and help toss wood into the basement. I have many, many memories of doing this. I don't know why I got away from it so much since I grew older.
But as of late, all the word working experiences of my past have come back to me! I was home alone about a week ago, and I saw Luke's grandparents unloading a massive trailer of kindling, piece by piece, into their basement. I couldn't very well let them do that by themselves, so I bundled up, hopped on the trailer, and pushed all the wood down the storm window. It got a little dicey when Butch tried to use a pitch fork to push the wood. I alternated between pushing wood and jumping out of the way of the pitchfork spikes...but we made it without any serious injury.
Then today, it was so beautiful outside, that after the Packer game, I decided to play with Tobshu a little. I don't know what came over me, but when I saw Luke splitting wood, I just got the urge to help. So I put on my flannel, boots, and deer-skin gloves, and headed outside. Luke had a shocked smile on his face when he saw me. He would split the wood (with a splitting mall), and I would pick it up and stack it in! We quickly got through the pile, and Luke decided that since he had my help, we would do another load. With that, we hopped on the four-wheeler and headed out to the wood pile in the woods.
What was most adorable was Tobshu, running right in front of the 4-wheeler, just trotting along with a toy in his mouth. Luke said it is always their routine - I couldn't believe it - Tobshu led us all the way to the wood pile! We worked for about an hour, and it was fun and refreshing. I somehow forgot how enjoyable some time in the woods, working among the leaves and with your family, can be.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Homecoming!
Well, this post is out of order with my last one, but my nerves and energy has settled enough to be able to blog this happy post: Banjo has returned! It was 8 days after his official departure, and I had all but given up hope! In the week he was missing, I had walked the yard calling him, set out extra food, and had the boys look around, and he never showed up. I was very, very sad and felt horrible for Murtle, who was quite lonely.
On Friday night, I was sitting at my kitchen table cutting up tomatoes for salsa, and when I looked out the window, I noticed a cat. At first I looked away, thinking it was Murtle, but then I realized it was a black cat, and I quickly rushed outside to confirm my thoughts. Banjo was home! I was so excited! I took pictures of his homecoming.
He and Murtle greeted each other happily:
Banjo came right up to me, and he was purring and happy to be home. I checked him over - he didn't have any injuries, but you could tell he was hungry. He ate over 1 cup of food and drank over a container of water.
But, considering he was gone for over a week, I couldn't believe nothing else was wrong with him. I quickly called Luke to share the news. I know people so you aren't supposed to get attached to outdoor cats, but Luke and I sure love those two little kitties! Here is a few more cute pictures I have to share:
:
And my personal favorite:
Anyway, I just had to share the good news. Several people asked about him - at Farmer's Market, at CSA pick-up, on Facebook! It was wonderful to know so many people cared! Tobshu was even happy to see Banjo - they played a little together. And of course, just because I love him, a picture of Tobshu as well.
It was absolutely wonderful this evening to watch Murtle and Banjo wrestling around and playing as usual, I couldn't be happier about his sudden homecoming. I hope he learned his lesson and doesn't disappear again.
On Friday night, I was sitting at my kitchen table cutting up tomatoes for salsa, and when I looked out the window, I noticed a cat. At first I looked away, thinking it was Murtle, but then I realized it was a black cat, and I quickly rushed outside to confirm my thoughts. Banjo was home! I was so excited! I took pictures of his homecoming.
He and Murtle greeted each other happily:
Banjo came right up to me, and he was purring and happy to be home. I checked him over - he didn't have any injuries, but you could tell he was hungry. He ate over 1 cup of food and drank over a container of water.
: And my personal favorite:
Anyway, I just had to share the good news. Several people asked about him - at Farmer's Market, at CSA pick-up, on Facebook! It was wonderful to know so many people cared! Tobshu was even happy to see Banjo - they played a little together. And of course, just because I love him, a picture of Tobshu as well.
Mud Run - Pig Style
Recently, mud runs are getting a lot of press - from the "Warrior Dash" to the "Hot Mess Mud Run" to the "Warrior Princess Mud Dash" (which I'm actually doing in October), it seems like everyone wants to sign up for a race to get messy in. I thought I did too - as I said, I signed up for such a race in October. Unfortunately, I got to experience my very own mud run today, and it has left me with two large, broken blisters, a achy back, and a bruised mentality.
You see, Luke and I decided to have a little get-away this weekend, and go up north. This isn't easy to arrange. Luke went up Friday, and I stayed until Saturday morning to do the initial chores. Then I headed up yesterday for some R&R. I came back before Luke did, and I had great intentions for the day: balance my checkbook, laundry, a good meal, dust. I pulled into the driveway, got out of my car, and as I walked to the front door, I casually turned my head to the left. Right at that exact moment, two pigs were busting out of their fence.
My heart dropped. Getting pigs back in the pen with two people around is difficult, but it was just me, with no one around to help. I quickly through on my mud boots, grabbed a broom, and ran to get to work. It was horrible - chasing pigs isn't easy. One was frightened of me and took off toward Luke's fields. I corralled the other one into the gate, opened it, and in she ran. The other escapee seemed interested in me and my tactics after about 5 minutes, and also ran back up. Some shooing and pushing with a broom, and within 10 minutes I was able to get her back in the pen. Problem solved. I was full of mud on my pants (the pigs were muddy and running into me), and I was a little out of breath, more from anxiety than anything, but the problem was resolved.
I went up to the house, grabbed my phone, and told Luke to thank me, as "the pigs got out, and I got them all back in." I was just starting to tell him he owed me a trip to Gap, when the pigs escaped again. You see, I may have got them back in the pen, but I didn't fix the fence. The walked right back out, and my heart sunk. After herding them in once, the pigs decided they didn't like me all to much, and they took off. I would follow one pig, focus on one pig and the other would wander. I would get one pig back in, go to look for the other, and a different one would escape. It was horrible. I needed bodies. Luke kept calling me, asking for updates, anxious and telling me I couldn't lose the pigs (he wasn't really helping) and I cried and yelled and begged for help. But he was 2 hours away. I informed him of the situation at hand - 2 pigs in the pen, and a fixed fence (I thought), and one pig no where to be seen. The last I saw her, she was headed into the corn field.
I knew I needed to find her. I was muddy, sweaty, my face was tear-stricken, my feet were forming large blisters because I had on mud boots with no socks, and my morale was down. I knew I would have to find the pig but how? I had visions of her on the road, so I decided to hop into my car. Worst idea ever...even if I found the pig - what the hell would I do, put her in the car?! As I was backing up I realized I hadn't fixed the fence as well as I though and another pig got out, again. So the total was 2 out, 1 in, and a still-broken fence.
These aren't easy animals to corral. It was three 220 pound pigs versus me. Each big weighed nearly 100 pounds more than me, and what I lack in weight, I don't make up for in strength. Fortunately, the one pig seemed used to our "escape/capture" routine we had established, and was worked back into the pen in 5 minutes. I laid down some cement blocks to 'fix the fence,' and then continued looking. Then I knew what I had to do - follow the final pig's tracks through the mud in the corn field. I'm really freaked out by corn fields - they are so endless, so consuming, so hard to maneuver. But, I grabbed my broom and headed in. I was trying to sprint, following her tracks, getting bombarded over and over with wet leaves in my face, my arms. I was a mess - crying, stumbling, running with all my might. My feet ached, I felt my blisters tore open. My cats, Banjo and Murtle, were running along next to me, giving me assurance. (Yes! Banjo is back - I plan to blog about that too!) I made it to the end of the row, and followed the tracks, turning to the right, toward the road. It was so hopelessly silly and absurd, the pig was too far gone. I headed back to the house, hoping she would as well. By the time I got back to the pen, the worst was confirmed. In my chase for the third, the other two escaped. It turns out cement blocks aren't that hard for pigs to roll and that is what they did.
I returned to the empty pen, and I just cried. I called Luke balling, not knowing what to do. I couldn't be in two places at once - I couldn't get the pigs while also preventing the others from escaping. Luke told me help was on my way - he called some wonderful neighbors to assist me, and they would be there in 10 minutes. He told me to be calm, to stop chasing the pigs, and to just relax. Luke reminded me that animals sense emotion. While I pushed along the largest pig (the one who was on her first escape), the other two came bopping out of the corn field. I ran, grabbed some feed, and walked into the coop, and they followed me. Two down, one to go. Fortunately, James, Nancy and their son arrived, and corralled the final pig into the pen. I can't imagine what they thought of me - muddy, panting, crying. By their own goodness they didn't comment on my appearance.
And then I had what I needed - bodies! Two of them guarded the broken fence (and those pigs were just shoving, trying to get our), while their son and I went to get cement blocks. We loaded about 5 of them on, grabbed a long board, and went to fixing the fence. James thought we would need even more blocks, so I went back to our pile. The son was just about to grab a block when I noticed the wasp hive poking out of it. I stopped him just in time - and even though we were very close, the hornets didn't move. I'm pretty sure God knew we had enough to handle at that point in time. We barricaded the fence, and then they left - I couldn't thank them enough. I used a handsaw to cut the pigs some branches to play with, and then I just froze. My tears were openly flowing - the anxiety of the experience all coming out. I had arrived home at 11:15, the pigs were finally all contained and fence fixed by 1:00. 1 hour and 45 minutes of immense stress, frustration, and anxiety. It was horrible.
I had to take care of the rest of the chickens and do chores, and my blisters were just throbbing. I put on a pair of Luke's socks to help. When I was done, I finally called Luke, who was on his way home. I cried and cried. I don't think I can convey in words how stressful that was. I also informed him that I planned on charging $1 per minute of stress during that time - which means he owes me either a $105 shopping spree to the Gap, or a fancy dinner!
After staring at the pigs, hoping they wouldn't escape, and after calling my sister to calm me down, I decided to take a nice, hot shower. I was filthy, sweaty, and exhausted. Unfortunately, the shower wasn't that soothing because my blisters that had ripped open were not fond of the hot water. I suffered through it though, and eventually the pain went away. Once Luke was home, we made some permanent fixes to the fence. Those pigs leave in a week, they will be butchered. Quite frankly, I won't mind to see them go. They each probably burned off 10 pounds today with all the running they did. Pigs are fast! As for me, I've had enough with mud runs for a very, very long while.
You see, Luke and I decided to have a little get-away this weekend, and go up north. This isn't easy to arrange. Luke went up Friday, and I stayed until Saturday morning to do the initial chores. Then I headed up yesterday for some R&R. I came back before Luke did, and I had great intentions for the day: balance my checkbook, laundry, a good meal, dust. I pulled into the driveway, got out of my car, and as I walked to the front door, I casually turned my head to the left. Right at that exact moment, two pigs were busting out of their fence.
My heart dropped. Getting pigs back in the pen with two people around is difficult, but it was just me, with no one around to help. I quickly through on my mud boots, grabbed a broom, and ran to get to work. It was horrible - chasing pigs isn't easy. One was frightened of me and took off toward Luke's fields. I corralled the other one into the gate, opened it, and in she ran. The other escapee seemed interested in me and my tactics after about 5 minutes, and also ran back up. Some shooing and pushing with a broom, and within 10 minutes I was able to get her back in the pen. Problem solved. I was full of mud on my pants (the pigs were muddy and running into me), and I was a little out of breath, more from anxiety than anything, but the problem was resolved.
I went up to the house, grabbed my phone, and told Luke to thank me, as "the pigs got out, and I got them all back in." I was just starting to tell him he owed me a trip to Gap, when the pigs escaped again. You see, I may have got them back in the pen, but I didn't fix the fence. The walked right back out, and my heart sunk. After herding them in once, the pigs decided they didn't like me all to much, and they took off. I would follow one pig, focus on one pig and the other would wander. I would get one pig back in, go to look for the other, and a different one would escape. It was horrible. I needed bodies. Luke kept calling me, asking for updates, anxious and telling me I couldn't lose the pigs (he wasn't really helping) and I cried and yelled and begged for help. But he was 2 hours away. I informed him of the situation at hand - 2 pigs in the pen, and a fixed fence (I thought), and one pig no where to be seen. The last I saw her, she was headed into the corn field.
I knew I needed to find her. I was muddy, sweaty, my face was tear-stricken, my feet were forming large blisters because I had on mud boots with no socks, and my morale was down. I knew I would have to find the pig but how? I had visions of her on the road, so I decided to hop into my car. Worst idea ever...even if I found the pig - what the hell would I do, put her in the car?! As I was backing up I realized I hadn't fixed the fence as well as I though and another pig got out, again. So the total was 2 out, 1 in, and a still-broken fence.
These aren't easy animals to corral. It was three 220 pound pigs versus me. Each big weighed nearly 100 pounds more than me, and what I lack in weight, I don't make up for in strength. Fortunately, the one pig seemed used to our "escape/capture" routine we had established, and was worked back into the pen in 5 minutes. I laid down some cement blocks to 'fix the fence,' and then continued looking. Then I knew what I had to do - follow the final pig's tracks through the mud in the corn field. I'm really freaked out by corn fields - they are so endless, so consuming, so hard to maneuver. But, I grabbed my broom and headed in. I was trying to sprint, following her tracks, getting bombarded over and over with wet leaves in my face, my arms. I was a mess - crying, stumbling, running with all my might. My feet ached, I felt my blisters tore open. My cats, Banjo and Murtle, were running along next to me, giving me assurance. (Yes! Banjo is back - I plan to blog about that too!) I made it to the end of the row, and followed the tracks, turning to the right, toward the road. It was so hopelessly silly and absurd, the pig was too far gone. I headed back to the house, hoping she would as well. By the time I got back to the pen, the worst was confirmed. In my chase for the third, the other two escaped. It turns out cement blocks aren't that hard for pigs to roll and that is what they did.
I returned to the empty pen, and I just cried. I called Luke balling, not knowing what to do. I couldn't be in two places at once - I couldn't get the pigs while also preventing the others from escaping. Luke told me help was on my way - he called some wonderful neighbors to assist me, and they would be there in 10 minutes. He told me to be calm, to stop chasing the pigs, and to just relax. Luke reminded me that animals sense emotion. While I pushed along the largest pig (the one who was on her first escape), the other two came bopping out of the corn field. I ran, grabbed some feed, and walked into the coop, and they followed me. Two down, one to go. Fortunately, James, Nancy and their son arrived, and corralled the final pig into the pen. I can't imagine what they thought of me - muddy, panting, crying. By their own goodness they didn't comment on my appearance.
And then I had what I needed - bodies! Two of them guarded the broken fence (and those pigs were just shoving, trying to get our), while their son and I went to get cement blocks. We loaded about 5 of them on, grabbed a long board, and went to fixing the fence. James thought we would need even more blocks, so I went back to our pile. The son was just about to grab a block when I noticed the wasp hive poking out of it. I stopped him just in time - and even though we were very close, the hornets didn't move. I'm pretty sure God knew we had enough to handle at that point in time. We barricaded the fence, and then they left - I couldn't thank them enough. I used a handsaw to cut the pigs some branches to play with, and then I just froze. My tears were openly flowing - the anxiety of the experience all coming out. I had arrived home at 11:15, the pigs were finally all contained and fence fixed by 1:00. 1 hour and 45 minutes of immense stress, frustration, and anxiety. It was horrible.
I had to take care of the rest of the chickens and do chores, and my blisters were just throbbing. I put on a pair of Luke's socks to help. When I was done, I finally called Luke, who was on his way home. I cried and cried. I don't think I can convey in words how stressful that was. I also informed him that I planned on charging $1 per minute of stress during that time - which means he owes me either a $105 shopping spree to the Gap, or a fancy dinner!
After staring at the pigs, hoping they wouldn't escape, and after calling my sister to calm me down, I decided to take a nice, hot shower. I was filthy, sweaty, and exhausted. Unfortunately, the shower wasn't that soothing because my blisters that had ripped open were not fond of the hot water. I suffered through it though, and eventually the pain went away. Once Luke was home, we made some permanent fixes to the fence. Those pigs leave in a week, they will be butchered. Quite frankly, I won't mind to see them go. They each probably burned off 10 pounds today with all the running they did. Pigs are fast! As for me, I've had enough with mud runs for a very, very long while.
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