Whilst I was finishing the chores late last night, the evening turned to magic and sky to Wonderland. At first the light was ethereal, almost totally unreal and little spooky, then it was magnificent, like golden frosting on the tree tops amidst pink icing clouds. As the evening dawned, the pink blossomed to rich gold and yellow and the rose faded to sweet peach. I stood in awe and gratitude, looking at those big magical Alberta skies, smelling the new buds on the trees and listening to the ducks chatter themselves to sleep. 

To have this at my fingertips, where once I had a beautiful house near the ocean with a mountain view, is rather astounding. To come here, to nowhere where I knew noone and create a farm and a life in the midst of the stunning gifts of nature is truly a gift. And I am so grateful to have this opportunity to learn and grow. 

Taking care of the animals on the farm is a privilege and a joy, but very hard work. Lately, because baby sheep and lambs are being born and I need to be on hand in case of emergencies, though thankfully only one birth was problematic with poor presentation, it is hard to forgive myself for allowing a baby to die if I could have been present to save it. So, I have been awakening at night, going to bed late and rising early to watch the emergence of new life, another miracle or miracles. 

Wherever you are tonight, join in my thankfulness for the love of the universe and the Creator and the cycle of life as it continues. And marvel with me at those magical big Alberta skies that demonstrate this magnificnece in every way. Sigh. 

These girls are bonded because they both have the same problem. They have no feet. During the winter, for some reason, their feet froze solid. I should have put them down then, but didn't. I can only imagine the pain and suffering they have had to endure as the feet thawed then fell off at the ankle. One is a peg leg for sure and the other has some of her foot on one leg and nothing on the other. I am not sure why that happened either. If they perched on the two by four in the coop, any of the coops, and then laid their bellies over their feet to cover them, the feet should not have frozen. What must have happened, is that for some reason they slept on the ground one night. There is a lot of straw bedding in their coop, over a foot, but that is not adequate to keep their feet from freezing if they do not perch. 

So, as they convalesed, they became friends through a common problem. they stay together now, not going far from the coop. They do not lay eggs and cannot scratch the ground for bugs and worms. They eat the feed provided and try to hide from the roosters, but whatever they do and wherever they are, they are together. 

This photo was taken as they were getting ready to sleep and it was so endearing to see the blue hen cuddling her friend to keep her warm, even though it is a warm night. I am so sorry these girls had to suffer. They do not have much life now and they are rather thin, barely susisting really. That is no life for the beautiful Ameraucana hens and they will be killed as a mercy offering for them. Yet, I cannot help thinking that maybe they would rather cling to life, even though they are different than the other hens and cannot function as chickens anymore. Maybe, life is still preferable? 

Do you think so? 

I took a few moments from the busy schedule of midwifery to look at the flora in the yard. Last year I planted several fruit trees, shrubs and bushes. Some are still dormant, but others are showing remakable signs of life. The Haskup berries are already sprouting tiny leaves, but I see no life on the Acai berry or Elder Flowers. There is life in the native species though and in the trees that are well established in the yard. 

The pussy willows are already going to seed. They look like extra beautiful light yellow caterpillars saying good bye to the trees, just beautiful. The May day is ready to bring forth blossoms. It is a fragrant tree, but does not produce edible anything. The people who lived here for over 30 years did not plant anything edible. I did, but I do not intend to stay here longer than another 5 years or so, so I am planting for the future, for permanent agriculture, for others to enjoy the fruits of my labours. With a vision for tomorrow, not just today, I am leaving a legacy for some one else. It is how it should be. 

There is no sign of life in the roses. I do so want them to thrive. The first year here I planted 32 bushes and only half made it, even though they were zone 3. That winter was particularly cold and windy. If I plant any more roses, they will have to be zone 2 only. Once they are well established, they have a much better chance of carrying on. The trick is to plant them early and hope they are well rooted by fall. 

Enjoy the beautiful photos of the buds of spring. Although I also planted a host of bulbs, none have survived. I do see tulips in some yards, close to the foundation of the houses, so I suppose that is part of the trick. The warmth from the house likely keeps them safe during winter. 

And spring has sprung here in the north, a full month earlier than last year. It snowed in May last year and I sure hope it doesn't snow in May this year. I am very ready for a garden. Are you planting one this year?

The babies came fast and furious today. Celia finally had quints, but one was stillborn I think, though I missed the brith. I just went in for supper and by the time I was done, she was done. She has 4 beautiful baby girls and the one that passed away was a girl too. The quads are black and white, but Celia is brown and white. They are adorable. 

But that was not the only birth today. Obe and kaon, the Shetland girls had little boys, both by themselves. They went into the barn, most likely because when they first arrived that is where they lived for 2 days and it felt like a safe spot. They had their babies, cleaned them off and had them nursing in five minutes total. The Blue Faced Leicester, on the other hand, which is a man created breed, needed assistance. One leg was back and she was not able to get the little gaffer out, so I pulled him out. She did lick him clean but would not let him nurse. I left them to be in a stall in the barn and when I checked later, he had managed to nurse. I brought her food to distract her and make her stand still and the rest was up to him. It seems to have worked. 

But then, just as I thought I was going to bed, I checked the sheep pen and one of the wild things had a teddy bear. She was bred to Tuck, a coloured Old English Southdown Babydoll and she is part Icelandic. The baby is white and black spotted and absolutely adorable. The mom is wild. I don't know why. Some sheep are, almost no matter what you do. She will teach her baby to be wild too. The baby is a girl. Her only saving grace is that Babydoll sheep are born friendly, so perhaps once she is weaned she will tame down. Her mom is going to be sold or go for meat, even though she has a lovely fleece.

So finally, it is nearing midnight and I can go to sleep. I am pretty sure there is no one in labour at the moment. I will be up early to check again. I don't have any more man bred sheep to deliver, thank goodness, so the rest of them should be fine on their own. One of the quads that Celia had is very small and weak. I tried to bottle feed her and she did not want anything to do with me so I left her with her sisters and mom. 

And so to bed. Another day comes tomorrow. 

Small farms are a thing of the past, but they are also the way of the future.  Driven out by big agricultural business, small farms could not be self supporting and Mom and Pop were forced to sell the farm and move to town. Unless farmers have jobs outside of the farm, the farm is usually not able to sustain itself. Why is that? 

Well, part of the problem is that the mentality of folks is still such that if you get a product from a farmer, it should be cheap because it did not have to go through the channels to get to a store. The large agribusinesses are subsidized heavily by the government and although they make make several million dollars in a good year, in a bad year, their loans are going unpaid. 

Eggs have been very cheap on a farm for years, not reflecting inflation or the cost of living rising, yet feed, fuel and just about everything that a farmer needs costs so much more than it did yesterday, so to speak. Chickens used to be cheap on a farm too, but with the cost of electricity to hatch, then brood the chicks, and feed costs, not even counting any labour, an egg to chick is already over $15 dollars without a penny for the farmer. There are still old time farmers who have been selling eggs and chickens for cheap forever. They are underselling themselves and making it difficult for others to charge and recieve fair prices. 

Here cows are the mainstay of farmer, and grain, which is grown for the cows. Cows at the moment are between $2000 and $3000 dollars, with newborn calves selling for $500 and more. Yet, because sheep and goats are not popular here, people still think they should be cheap. It takes a long time for a sheep to reach slaughter weight, at least 100 days if not longer. Why should it be $100 dollars or less? Even $50? It should not. 

Small farms have the potential to support communities if communities support small farms. Much of what is procured from the grocery store can come direct to the consumer from a local farm. Farmer's markets are only one small avenue of vending a farmer's wares, and they are heavily governed by the health authority. Kitchens now must be inspected, ingredients listed on labels and certain items, such as milk and meat cannot be sold at all from a farm. Meat must go to an abbatoir for government inspection which also raises the price $3 a pound or more. 

Produce that comes from a farm should not cost less than a super grocery store. It should cost more. The produce provides exquisite nutrition from the farm to the table. The farmer works hard all day and often during the night, especially when baby animals are being born. The farmer's labour is seldom ever counted, yet they work seven days a week, many hours a day. I don't know of any other occupation where people are expected to work for free. 

It is time that the communities really support small farms and begin to pay the farmers fair prices including their labour. Big business has the ability to provide what they want us to eat, leaving us little choice except to consume gentically modified or heavily sprayed goods. But a local farm can provide fresh organic food that actually has nutrition and flavour. Isn't that worth your health and the health of your loved ones? 

I urge to you to consider adding the cost of a cup of coffee to the price of a dozen farm eggs and see how pleased the farmer will be. Or add the cost of a movie out with the family for a visit to your local farm. If you want the benefits of  good food, please support your local farmer. The world depends on it. 

When I was younger, I used to secretly and not so secretly criticize others and my own mother for wearing stretchy elastic waist pull on pants. I thought they looked ridiculous and they do for the most part. There are some elastic waist dress pants that are quite attractive, but most of the time the 'sweat' pants or 'leggings' are what I am referring to. 

As I am older now, I find myself reaching for those 'pull on pants' more and more. Going out on a cold rainy night to check the sheep in labour, who wants to don jeans when elastic waist pants are easy, quick and warm? At first, I would only wear them around the house, but lately I have worn them in public. Shame! I had to run to town and was wearing the pants, completely forgot about them and found myself in town in pull on pants. Most people did not blink an eye, but my own self consciousness made up for that. Had I truly reached the age of pull on pants? 

What an age to be! If I have arrived, have finally come to the point where my personal comfort exceeds my need to impress others, I have achieved a good part of what I came to this nowhere land to do. That is, I wanted to completely leave societal dictates behind and be a real person without caring what others thought of me with the exception that they considered me pleasant in the least and nice and friendly. The clothes I chose to wear would not matter. 

I understand now why my mother finally liked her pull on pants. She had arrived at that stage of life where she was whom she was and had abandoned the need to impress others. She was comfortable wtih herself and the choices she was making and felt free from the encumberances of society telling her how she should look. If she wanted to wear those pull on pants she wore them, to town, at home and visiting. In fact, the older she got, the les and less other styles she even owned. I am not there yet, but I did wear pull on pants to town and that is a start. How about you?

This is the time of year that I think is my favourite. It is also exhausting. Last night I did not get to bed until 1:30 and was up at 6. I did go back to sleep for a few hours after that, but when sleep is broken and the body gets chilled, it is not a fitful restful sleep. I am tired. 

Sweet Pea was showing signs of early labour last night. i waited for a long time and nothing was happening, so I went to be for a few hours. When I was up at 6, she was still pacing, but later at 9 she was lying down and in full labour. Things were not progressing though. I left her and went in for coffee after doing the necessary morning chores. When I returned to see her 45 minutes later, nothing had happened. She was getting tired and there were only two feeet showing. I slipped on my surgical gloves and moved the feet apart a bit. That was all she needed it seems, because she gave two more pushes and the little one was born. Mom was tired and just lay there so I cleaned the baby's mouth and then toweled her head off so she was mucous free and layed her in front of her mother. The mother, Sweet Pea immediately began to lick her and talk to her. It was precious. I watched for a few moments longer and then left them to get to know one another, confident that all would be well. And it is. 

Later today, the Angora goat, Thirteen, was huddled in the shelter. She had separated herself and I suspected she was getting ready to deliver, but she has so much fibre, it was hard to tell if she was even pregnant. The buck that bred her was a tiny Nigerian Dwarf, less than half her size, so I was not sure he could get up there to do the job. He did. The little baby is a female and the mother is exceptional. Finding a good Angora mother is rare. They have been so bred for more and more fibre that the mother instincts have given way. Thirteen has very good mother instincts, and she is to remain on the farm as the mohair goat. Her baby is a Nigora, a Nigerian Dwarf and Angora cross. She will have either grade A, B or C fibre, all of which are useful and loved by spinners. Some Angora crosses will shed their coats and others need to be shorn. The little doeling will remain on the farm. 

So, after several visitors to the farm, and the babies this morning, I finally got to the chores around 3 pm. Finally at 9 I came in and had my supper, a farm chicken that was in the slow cooker since morning and was delicious and the last Kobocha squash from the garden last year. Now, I must go and lock the ducks and chickens up for the night and do one last check on the sheep and goats. Then I am going to bed. Still I would not trade this time of year for anything. It is a gift to see the new life and to be a steward of the animals that allow me glimpses of their souls. Truly it is. 

My beautiful little heifer calf, a purebred Kyloh Highand, was a range cow, totally wild and unfriendly, untouched by human hands when she came to the farm. Over the winter she lived first with 43Y, a large Cotswold ewe sheep, then Tova, a Gotland sheep. 43Y was big enough to hold her own with Kylie when she was small, so Kylie learned to respect her, respect sheep. When Tova came, though much smaller and not nearly as strong as Kylie, Tova could also hold her own. The two of them would play together and they were good company, but Tova decided to bust out several times and had ot go live with the sheep. 

The Riggid Galloway calves were right beside Kylie's pen and they busted out one morning and Kylie busted out of her pen. The pens were never made for cows. I have been working on taming the calves, and Dustin, a young man from Ag college has been helping me with their haltering. They are easy to redirect back to the pen they should be in. But, I thought it best to put them all together. Kylie and Shona had quite a few tousles, head butting and pushing, and then decided to be friends. Kylie did not tackle Barclay. I think she knew there would be no contest there. He is a boy and already bigger and stronger than her, though he is not as old. Both Kylie and Shona had to fend for themselves at early ages, which makes them all the more leary of anything different, me included. 

Sometimes I sing to my animals (when no one is listening). I am not a good singer, but I love to sing. I think animals are similar to children and old folks. They appreciate being sung to no matter the quality of the voice. It is the intent that matters. 

So, I videod Kylie while I sang her a song. You can see her ears moving as she listens to me and she is intent on staying close. See, music is the part of the realm of angels. Kylie knows I love her. I do. 

When I first started farming in 2011, I really had a lot to learn. This dumb city slicker did not really know the difference on sight between sheep and goats, chickens, geese, turkeys or guinea fowl or much about cows or horses. I have come a long way in the past 4 years and of course, will continue to learn more. I had never really seen geese up close, only through a car window driving by a goose and duck farm in Yarrow, BC. They were stinky and over crowded and all white, obviously raised for meat production with little regard for the lives of the birds. I am not saying they were not given the necessities, but they didn't have the opportunities to enjoy their lives as the species they are. 

I got some goslings the first year, Embden crosses. They had tufts on their heads, and I later figured out they were tufted Toulouse crosses with Embden. Embden geese are big, agressive geese. Toulose geese are much calmer, but still not calm enough for me. The ravens ate my goslings right through the wire enclosure. I wondered what happened as they disappeared. I could not find a way for them to get out and did not see any dead bodies. The raven would sit patiently on the outside of the cage and when the gosling was close enough, reach his beak in and tear off a bit of the gosling, eventually pulling the remains out and eating it all, which is why there were no bodies. The next goslings were raised where the dogs could protect them and they fared better. They grow very quickly and eat mostly fresh grass. How a creature can eat grass and convert it to fat is a miracle. Some of those geese went to the freezer and I must say, they are incredibly delicious eating. They averaged about 14 pounds, not much, and of that, provided two meals only, with much of the waste being bones. The meat breeds of geese dress out to a greater percentage of meat to bone. 

Last year, I ordered two Sebastopol geese. I had seen photos of these geese who look like they are wearing wedding gowns of fine ruffles. Simply stunning, they are! The goslings were sexed and cost $100 each. They were taken great care of and have grown to be lovely adults. One was nearly lost to an owl in the winter. The owl tore off the wrist portion of a wing, but since they are flightless, once it healed, it will not cause any permanent harm. The two female geese other than the one Sebastopol are Amercian Buffs, a beautiful buff coloured quiet, docile breed. I wish I could find a gander of that breed. Instead, to have two ganders, in case of the demise of one, I kept one of those tuft tops that I had originally. He was a scrawny teenager, but is quite handsome now with grey and white feathers. Of all the geese, he is the loudest and most agressive. 

They geese are nesting now, so they are highly protective of their nesting area. They were hissing at me when I checked one nest today. The Tufted gander has mated with one Buff goose and the Sebastopol gander has mated with the other Buff and his Sebastopol wife. The cross goslings, Sebastopol and Buff, will be very striking with long flowing coloured feathers or possibly the soft smooth feathers of the Buff with Sebastopol fluffs. There are 7 eggs in the nest now. It has been pretty cold and has frozen to minus 10, so the eggs might not be viable, since the goose is not sitting yet. She will continue to lay eggs in the nest until she feels she has enough to ensure continuation of her species, usually about ten or twelve. It takes just over a month to hatch the eggs. Due to the loss of baby birds to the ravens, the goslings will have to be taken away and artificially reared or they will be dinner. I have a waiting list for Sebastopol geese and the crosses. At $100 and up per goose, it is better money than raising sheep. From one nest, ten babies provide $1000 dollars. At best one lamb will fetch $300 unless it is a specialty lamb, which may come closer to the big dollars, but still not equal to the thousand dollars. 

Geese are interesting and the Buffs and Sebastopols are gentle and non invasive. Anyone can walk around them, provided they do not come too close to the nest, and they do not bother with them.The Tufted Toulouse cross gander has learned to give me a wide berth after a few early encounters where he met my boot after he tried to bite me. He does not both with Robbie too much either, because Robbie has given him a haircut once or twice when he attacked him. Sofi, on the other hand, is fair game and the gander loves to chase her, hissing and creating a scene. 

A mixed farm wouldn't be complete without geese. I am considering raising forty to fifty next year and then having a goose per week for dinner. One goose, in the grocery store, is around $50. If I had a market for them, butchered, then that is another possibility to add to the farm income. I am thankful for the opportunity to get to know geese. Would you like to ?