Moose Hills Inn is about to launch. 
The inspections have been passed. The insurance is in place. The fire extinguishers have been updated. The only detail left is to take a water sample to be tested for bacteria in the well. There has never been any, so I am not overly concerned. The results are back within a few days and then the permit will be issued. The Inn will then be a class III facility. That means that all means, baking, repackaging, freezer meals, canning, pickling, and preserving can be undertaken in the kitchen. This is a step up from our previous license, which was class II, meaning that most of the above could be done, with the exception of reheating anything. For a class II, all foods must be freshly prepared. Now, leftover soup can be frozen and served at a later date. This is all excellent. 

The photos will be taken, either tomorrow or the day following. The stationary and business cards are designed and are ready for the pictures. Isn't it great in this day and age that the digital images are instant? 

The official opening will be likely November 7th. The signs will be hung this coming week. The carpenter is coming one day next week to finish some loose ends and help hang the blinds and curtains, and the large infrared units, as well as a very large mirror. I cannot do those on my own. Well, I could likely do the curtain rods, only mine are never straight, so it will be nice to have a more precise job. 

And then that is it. Moose HIlls Inn will be underway! I cannot wait. How about you?

The Fat Ewe Farm desperately needed a new truck. I had been on the lookout for months now. The last time I drove to Calgary to see my son and his family, the wheel bearings on the front tire fell off just as I turned off the freeway and it was a wonder I survived the remainder of the drive without losing the tire. It cost a thousand dollars to fix and there was a small leak discovered and repaired then too. 

That truck has been a good truck for the farm, especially with the canopy. I have hauled every sort of farm critter in there, from chickens, turkeys, pigs, dogs, sheep, goats and yup, even an alpaca! The first pigs I had included a pregnant sow who decided she would stay in the truck and have her babies there. So many folks tried to get her out and she would just not go, that is until a pig farmer came along with a cattle prod. One touch with that, she looked at him, and gently swayed down the ramp, finally, after 3 days, leaving the truck! It did smell of pig for some time thereafter, however!
 
But the time has come to say goodbye. The new truck is the same design by a different company, that is an 8 foot long box and single cab. I hardly ever have anyone else in the truck except my trusty border collie, so we do not need extra seats in the back. The new truck has a larger motor, but is supposed to be very fuel efficient. I am going to look for a small livestock trailer to haul the animals around in rather than stick them in the canopy. I am not sure the canopy will fit the new truck since the one I have now is the GMC and the new one is a Dodge. I will see. 
Both trucks are white. I am hoping that the new truck will easily last for the next few years while I continue to play farmer. I do not know if it is strong enough to pull my 24 foot Airstream, but I will find out. Won' t that be a fun adventure? 

I have new signs for the doors for Moose Hills Inn, which passed its inspections this week. Moose HIlls Inn, formerly the Fat Ewe Farm Bed and Breakfast, is now a class 3 facility, which means a full fledged restaurant designation. Plus it is an inn. Yay! The fire and safety was passed as well with the extinguishers being updated and the insurance was updated too. November 5th is when we should be able to open the doors, just in time for the holiday season. New truck, newly reopened bed and breakfast...isn't life grand! 

​That title almost sounds like a dirty movie!
 
But it is not, not really. Flushing is a sheep producers term for over feeding to improve bodily condition to ensure conception at the best rate possible and to produce strong, healthy, vigorous lambs for production. Of course, vigorous, robust lambs are the aim of every sheep owner. No one prefers weak and sickly little gaffers. But the methods of arriving at the end are quite different in production farming than they are in grass farming.
 
This is basically a grass operation. Ruminants like sheep and goats and cows have more than one stomach and were meant to eat roughages and forages. They have more than one stomach so that by the time the grass goes out, it has been well digested and the nutrients have been extracted. If you examined the poop of a healthy sheep, you might be surprised to note that there is no grass in it. Unlike the poop of a dog who eats grass, the sheep completely digest the entire grass, while dogs, who are not meant to eat forages, cannot digest grass. We cannot either.
 
Man, in his incessant quest for bigger and better got the strange idea that ruminants should eat grain. The rumen, one of the stomachs of the sheep, can actually bloat from producing gas from the grain fermenting in the gut and the sheep can die. To ensure this does not happen, those farmers feed grain to the lambs from birth, called creep feeding. The rumen then has time to adjust to grain and the animals can eat a lot of it without consequences. Still, that is not how is should be.
 
So, on this farm, The Fat Ewe Farm, the ruminants do not get grain. Instead they are served a lush mix of grasses, leaves, clover, wildflowers, weeds and grass. That diet is highly palatable for the animals. They will eat and eat and eat because it is so naturally good, but they will not get sick. Clover is actually a legume, the same as alfalfa, and provides excellent nutrition and some protein and calcium for the ewes and does and cows.
 
One of the best things, is that the forage hay is all natural, never sprayed, easily grown and lasts all winter. And the animals absolutely love it. They hunt through the hay to find the tastiest morsels first, nibbling a clover, then a dandelion, a little thistle and some grass. Why, it is a veritable smorgasbord for the critters! And they are being well nourished, at least on par, but most certainly even better, than the grain fed cousins. The sheep love grain too, but it is not a natural food and here , grain is heavily sprayed with chemicals and grown with chemicals too. Gross!
 
The Fat Ewe Farm is not flushing the ewes, technically, just feeding them excellent quality feed. That is enough and it is the best for the animals, and in turn, if we eat the animals, naturally grass fed meat is healthiest for humans too. Win, win!

The Fat Ewe Farm came into existence as a fibre farm. At that time I am not sure I even knew the difference between a sheep and a goat, but things have come a long way. 

I have tried quite a few different breeds of sheep, but for one reason or another, usually because they are not independent, hardy and good foragers who thrive in a grass fed operation, I have chosen certain breeds. Then within these breeds, I have selected sheep that can manage their own parasite load and bred them to another who is the same, hoping one day to achieve a naturally pest resistant flock. Animals that constantly require deworming and interventions leave the flock rather sooner than later. Those that have not required to be dewormed or have remained healthy and strong and especially ewes who have lambed without problems and had multiples, stay to build the flock. 

But, back to the fibre farm. The Fat Ewe Farm has sheep and goats. All the sheep are wool animals. There are sheep that shed their wool and they have more hair like goats, rather than wool like sheep. Man has bred sheep to require shearing and not naturally shed. At one time, in the distant past, all sheep naturally shed their winter wool to remain cool in the summer. Sheep that still do this are 'hair sheep' while those requiring shearing are 'wool sheep'. I only have wool sheep, but some of the goats on the farm are also fibre producing. The Angora goats produce a soft lustrous fibre called mohair. Unfortunately for the goats, man has constantly bred for improved fibre at the expense of natural instincts in the goat. I have one Angora goat, the only one I have had who was able to birth and mother her own babies. The other Angora goats that were here, were terrible mothers and were soon gone. The Angora was mated to cashmere producing goat. Cashmere is the downy undercoat and must be combed out as the animal begins to shed in the spring. The cross is a Cashgora and is a soft downy animal with white curly lustrous fibre. There are also a few Nigoras on the farm, a NIgerian Dwarf crossed with an Angora. The Nigoras have lovely spinnable fibre too, white and fluffy, but they will naturally shed, unlike Angoras who must be shorn. 

The sheep I love are the Cotswolds. They have beautiful ringlets and develop into large docile friendly sheep.They can be coloured or white. This year, the farm has a new coloured Cotswold ram, Bob. He is old but I am hoping to get some fine babies from him this year and maybe next. I also love the Icelandics with their long double coated fleece. They are so pretty. The Jacobs have a single coat, but it is soft and fluffy and black and white. All those breeds are excellent independent foragers and they have required few interventions for deworming or illness. I did have some Icelandics that were not that way, but I think they lacked copper at a time when I was told and read that sheep should not have copper. Otherwise, I believe that they would have been just as hardy as the ones I have now. I have a bunch of Blue Faced Leicester cross sheep too. While the BFL sheep were not hardy at all in this area (too cold for their open fleece), their cross bred ewes are wonderful, with  their beautiful fleece and hardy natures. A breed that came to the farm three years ago was the Tunis. There are quite a few Tunis/BFL cross sheep, which have beautiful fleece. The Tunis has a general poor grade fleece, but the crosses have greatly improved fleece. 

So things are progressing. The sheep are very worm resistant, produce wonderful fleece and are a delight to me. I love to spend time watching them and talking to them, scratching a chin here and an ear there. They make my heart sing and I am grateful to be caring for them. Now, if I can only figure out a way to keep that beautiful fleece free of hay and stuff. That is a challenge. 

Sheep and goats and cows have horns for a good reason. Not only do the horns offer some protection from predators, but they are their cooling system. When it is hot outside, the blood flows through the horns and cools down the animals. When it is cold, there is a shunting of the blood through the horns, conserving heat. So, I do not poll, or burn off the horns of my animals. I am sure having the skull burned either with acid or heat has to hurt and there is no need for it, other than some people believe an animal will be more manageable without horns. Actually, they are most manageable with horns. I use them as handles, careful not to grab the tips, which could break off , especially in young animals, but the base near the skull. Once a firm grasp is on the horns, a small animal is easy to handle. The large ones, like Gunnar, the Icelandic ram with a fine set of horns, would be difficult, but he is a gentle natured ram, so he is easy too. 

Feeding the horned animals takes a little practice. Kylie, the Highland cow, can eat from whatever most other cows can, now, but as her horns grow, she will be best fed on the ground as nature intended. The four horned Jacobs cannot stick their heads through a feeder opening, nor can they easily glean hay from the side of a feeder, so they are best fed on the ground as well. Goats are a little different, preferring to eat from the top down, so a horned goat is happy to climb vertically up a feeder to eat hay there. I have yet to discover the perfect feeder for all the animals, and then hope it will also keep the vegetative matter out of the fibre and wool . 

Today one of the little rams was fighting with another little ram. Unfortunately, as boys are boys, one of the rams was less fortunate and that being the little Jacob, he lost a horn at the base. Poor guy. Horns have a huge vascular supply, so there is red freshly oxygenated blood all over his face and fleece and on some of the other rams too. Close attention must be paid to situations like that to be sure the bleeding does stop quickly or the ram can lose too much blood and be very weak. 

Some people keep horned animals just for their horns, for trophies on their walls. That one, I will never understand. I do not want the skull or stuffed head of a dead animal anywhere near me, let alone as a trophy on the wall, showing that I had a gun and he did not. Grrrrrr! I even wrote a letter to a trophy hunting compound where they raise animals with horns to be hunted within the fences. Barbaric. I digress. 

Anyhow, animals with horns are attractive, interesting and usually easy to move around, except if they are large and have large horns. Breeding season fast approaches this farm at the end of the month, and I will be moving some of the ewes with horns myself. Then I will thankful for the handles for sure. Til then...

The Blue Faced Leicester ram who lived here for 2 years was a very busy lad. He even bred Lily right through the fence! She is a Babydoll sheep, now living at a new home, along with a bunch of others from the farm. But Lily's lamb could not be registered, because the ram thought he would like her instead of the Babydoll sire whom she was with. 

The Babydoll and Blue Faced Leicester ram lamb is very lovely. He will be larger than a Babydoll, I think, though Babydoll genes are really strong and usually the offspring of crosses look much more Babydoll than the other breed. In this case, the ram does look like a smaller version of the Blue Faced Leicester, only chunkier. For a smallholder operation wanted small meat sheep he would be ideal. 

There were 90% ram lambs born this year, the first year that has happened. Usually it has been an equal split or more or less equal. Some of the ram lambs were born early from accidental ram lamb breedings at 4 months of age. So in February there were lambs born. These young fellows are excellent stock and are now ready to breed too. They are wool breeds, with much finer quality wool than normally found on the common breeds such as Suffolk or Dorset. It would be a wise choice to use these rams as terminal rams or to create the famous mules, that is a ewe with Blue Faced Leicester genes and also a chunkier other meat breed. I took a picture of the largest three rams in that pen and was surprised to see how big the Blue Faced Leicester cross lambs had grown. They were huge! Seeing them daily, without a point of comparison, one does not notice that they have grown so big. 

But, the market for these rams would not be here, where most people are only interested in breeds they know and are used to. The cost of transport is prohibitive to most since the Fat Ewe Farm is quite remote compared to where the sheep herds are down south. Still, I will continue to advertise them for sale. Their only other fate is meat and that would be a terrible shame. Rams for sale! Step right up! 

A sow about to farrow will separate herself from the herd and find her spot. She will have picked it out some time before and built a nest for the young ones. The nest will have a furrow for her and a space to keep the young in close to her. She will stay in the nest for a few days, usually about three, only emerging to eat and drink and relieve herself, which she would never do in her bed unless forced to. Unfortunately, Sonia will have no choice, because the only way I could keep the piglets from her was to close her space off entirely. Otherwise I was concerned that the piglets would nurse from her and force her newborns out in the cold. That happened with the last sow that farrowed. She had adopted Clara's piglets a week before farrowing and they drank her colostrum leaving the new piglets to starve and freeze. So, to prevent that from happening, Sonia is locked up. She has about 8 square feet, enough to lie in any direction and still have lots of room. 

She was bred to the pot belly boar, Wilbur, even though she resisted for some time. The other sows were much more cooperative, much to his delight. Sonia is smaller and likely not so much of a challenge for the potbelly, who is a smaller boar himself. 

Sonia had built her nest yesterday. I tried to get her to stay there and fence her in, but she was having none of it, though today, she was supremely cooperative. I got the little piglets out of the way and Sonia laid down in her nest. Her vulva was very enlarged and jiggly, a sign of labour and delivery impending. I thought by the end of the day she would have farrowed, but I checked her before I retired and there were no piglets yet. There will be tomorrow for sure. 

Sonia is Ossabaw Hog, a black and white pig breed often cartooned because of the long skinny snout and round body. Literally at this point she looks like someone stuck the bellows up her butt and blew her up! Tomorrow she will feel so much better. And I cannot wait to see those little gaffers. Sonia is black and white spotted and the boar is black. The dominant genes will be what colour the piglets are. They would be so adorable if they were black and white spotted. I wonder if they will have the round body or the potbelly style. Stay tuned for the news and pictures tomorrow. 
​

Humans do not like nonconformists generally. They like it when the ducks are in a row, when people follow the rules, drive on the right side, walk on the right side, pay their bills on time, mind the limits set and so on. When a member of society does not do those things, that person is labeled a rebel, a nonconformist and generally seen in a troubled light. It takes a strong heart to walk to one's own drumbeat, to think out of the box and be true to oneself. As my professor in a Master's program put it to me, "Eileen, I would like to tell you to think in the box, but I am not sure you know what the box even is." 

Yeah, I am one of those...marching to the beat of my drum, making my own way, creating some attention inadvertently and usually ending up in the center somehow. My daughter said when I sent her a photo of a full page spread in the local paper, "Mom is in the paper again, go figure." or something akin to that. It is not that I try to be different. It is more like the professor said. I do not even know what the box is. Years ago, when I was the tender age of 14, I opted out of media, except for fashion, but I quit the newspapers and magazines that told us what to believe. It bothered me that people blindly followed whatever was broadcast and argued about it too. Politics. Harumph! 

Well, I have a goat like that too. She was so sweet when she was little, I carried her around and she became very friendly and tame. Now, she has little respect for fences or boundaries. She is always outside of the fence and she knows she is not supposed to be. If I yell at her, she will look at me and not move, happily munching the hay from the bale, knocking it down from the top, because that is what goats do. Then the other goats and sheep do not want the hay that was stepped on or worse. Nix, that goat, is a nonconformist, just like me. She does not mean to be a pain; she is just being herself. I know how that goes. When you are not the same as the rest, being yourself is all you can be. Over the years, I have learned to almost fit in more or less and to be comfortable in front of crowds, though I am an introvert. Being a hermit on my farm is perfect for me, working at my own pace, doing my own thing and loving what I do, is just me. And that goat, well, that is just her. I cannot really get angry with her, though others would have sold her by now. We want the critters to stay in fences, and we want the public to think in boxes, to believe what is being telecast daily and pumped out in movies and newspapers too. 

Be the goat. Dare to step out of your comfort zone. Quit conforming. Divorce yourself from the dictates of society and fashion. Who is to tell you what to wear and that make up is necessary to be beautiful? Gads. I was in that scene and am not any more. I stepped even further out of that box, I guess. I cannot tell you how freeing it is to be exactly who you want to be and do what you want to do and not really be concerned with whether or not the population approves. To meet the folks and say what you think is wonderful. Let me qualify that though. To say what you think without being rude or hurtful is what I mean.  I think you ought to give it a go. Would you like to?

Does the mighty pine bow to any element in nature. There she stands, proud and strong, hailing the wind, baring her body to the slashing or gentle rains, standing majestic in the presence of the snow storms and prevailing, no matter what. Which element is stronger than the pine tree? Who rules the forest and the trees? 

But then, water itself changes, sometimes a mist, a film that clings to everyone and everything, a cloud in the sky and a fog in the night. And it can be frozen to form the ubiquitous gentle unique flakes of snow, or ice that clings in mysterious diamond s, coating the precious pine with its glory. Or it can be diamonds, sparkling in the brilliant sunshine, frozen mist on the ever green needles of the pine. And it can be heavy, wet snow, weighting the limbs of the tree to the point of breaking, the arms bowing under the pressure of the white wet load. 

The pine stands steadfast through all the elements, never wavering, until the weight of the frozen water, water which it needs to sustain its life, breaks it to the ground. The wind, the rain, sleet, hail, and the sun beat upon the pretty pine and it is not affected, yet changing the property of the water changes the weight and the proud pine bends and bows its boughs to the ground. 

Are we the pine trees, onslaught by the elements and remaining unchanged until one singular event weighs our shoulders down to the point of breaking? How does the tree recover and go on? Possibly a limb is severed in the storm, but mighty and proud, the tree recovers with the assistance of the surrounding tree friends, and once more stands tall and strong, baring its soul to the wind. Be the tree. 

Oh my goodness! I was NOT expecting this snow. Not this much snow. Not this wet and heavy snow. I was not ready. There was so much to do yet. The shelters for the birds were not in their winter spots. There are still the French and Giant cross rabbits to separate and the last two babies to collect, but they run into their burrow whenever they see me, so I have not been able to get near them. 

So, today, in the crazy wet snow, I made the winter bird pen and herded the ducks, geese and turkeys into their shelter. Some that were here previous years should remember it well, though they would  not seek it out on their own for some reason. The poor ducks were sitting in the snow, cold and wet, yet not knowing where to go to get out of their misery. The chickens were alright for the most part. There are three coops, but there is a brood that adopted summer living with the sheep and goats and another brood that grew up roosting in the pine tree. I may have to climb the 10 foot ladder again this year and retrieve them so they do not freeze to death and fall out of the tree in one solid lump. I caught the little Ameraucana girl sitting on the side of a rabbit cage, huddled over, cold and not knowing what else to do except try to sleep. She was cold and she is a sweetheart. I put her with the Cream Legbar rooster, who is being held in a cage in the coop until he goes to his new home. 

Then after getting the birds to safety and retarping the day coop, I had to get the little boy goats in their barn. Darn they were stubborn. Even Robbie the border collie, was not able to move those cold little goats. They decided to go in the barn finally and found the fresh hay I put there for them. The Nubian buckling is a sissy. I got him to make mini Nubian babies shortly and then his purpose is done. I will try to sell him, and if so, great, but if not, then he and two other little boys will be butchered. That is the part I detest about farming and raising animals. Barbaric human, I am. 

Finally, after feeding everyone and watering those that are not good at eating snow, getting the birds sheltered and fed, and setting up the winter pen, I was soaked clean through to my undies! Blush. An old lady in undies is not a pretty sight, sorry. But I was soaked and came in, threw on some dry duds and the coveralls in the washer and then the dryer so they will be dry for tomorrow. I made supper for my son and I, lit a fire and am just ready now for a nice bath in my clawfoot tub. 

My house is still a disaster as part of the aftermath of the flood and the contents being so mixed up for both houses. I needed a nice day to move the last of the things from one house to the other and vice versa. But we had and have and are having more snow. Were you ready for it? Gosh, not me.