On the way home there was an amazing smell of lemony flowers in the car. I asked my son, Travis, if he smelled it and he thought it might be his hair gel. So, I gave it no more thought, but upon unpacking the groceries, the fruit, called Buddha's hand, was what smelled so amazing. I read a lot about it on the internet, from its unique history to the fascinating uses it has today. So, I broke a finger off and gave it a nibble. It was spicy, hot, citrusy and floral all at once. It is like eating lemon peel only without the fruit inside. I loved it. Sitting beside me, I recognized the aroma and tried to place it. Then it struck me. Boronia, the Australian/Tasmanian wildflower! It smelled like Boronia, my utmost, absolute favourite flower, especially the brown Boronia. When the needly leaves of Boronia are crushed, the indeed smell citrusy too and the flowers are what Heaven must smell like. If you get a chance to try it, Bhudda's hand is well worth the money. Simply Heavenly.
This has nothing to do with sheep, or animals at all. It has nothing to do with farm life and nothing to do with the bed and breakfast. Today, while grocery shopping at the local CoOp in St. Paul, a strange fruit was observed. I had just glimpsed at this on the internet as a posting on facebook and paid little attention to it. Not in a million years did I think anything quite so exotic would ever make its way to the little town of St. Paul, but there it was. I looked at the price of $6.49 and thought, "Oh, why not?", so into the cart it went.
On the way home there was an amazing smell of lemony flowers in the car. I asked my son, Travis, if he smelled it and he thought it might be his hair gel. So, I gave it no more thought, but upon unpacking the groceries, the fruit, called Buddha's hand, was what smelled so amazing. I read a lot about it on the internet, from its unique history to the fascinating uses it has today. So, I broke a finger off and gave it a nibble. It was spicy, hot, citrusy and floral all at once. It is like eating lemon peel only without the fruit inside. I loved it. Sitting beside me, I recognized the aroma and tried to place it. Then it struck me. Boronia, the Australian/Tasmanian wildflower! It smelled like Boronia, my utmost, absolute favourite flower, especially the brown Boronia. When the needly leaves of Boronia are crushed, the indeed smell citrusy too and the flowers are what Heaven must smell like. If you get a chance to try it, Bhudda's hand is well worth the money. Simply Heavenly.
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Whose woods these are, I think I know. Her house down the driveway though. She will not see me stopping here, to watch these woods fill up with snow. Hey wait, yes she will. She is taking the pictures. Winter has arrived here in the frozen north. Now it is a matter of survival. My little friend, Weezie the goat, passed away today, ill for a year, she finally succumbed to the cold and gave up. It is that way in winter. Winter is a time for surviving. The temperature will be minus 26 tonight. The sheep do not mind so much, with their wooly coats to keep them warm, but the goats do not like the snow and cold. They eat less, when they should eat more to keep warm. Water freezes quickly once it is poured. This is an old time farm and there are no fancy water bowls that provide fresh water 24 hours a day. The ice will be chipped out of the bowls in the morning and new water offered. The goats do not like ice water. The sheep do not mind eating the snow and the livestock guardian dogs will eat it as well. The horse likes his drink and llamas and alpacas should have a good drink every day too, though they will eat snow. At the Fat Ewe Farm, everyone gets fresh water daily and the waterfowl also get a tub full to bathe in, which they do even at 40 below, when the water freezes to ice on their feathers. Silly ducks. It is a time when farmer Eileen dresses in many layers and tops that off with winter insulated coveralls and good boots. Ninja Ice gloves keep the hands warm and dry as long as I am working. The trick is not to stop for long. That is when the cold works at getting in from the extremities upward. Sometimes, if there is a blizzard or big wind, I will cover my face with a balaclava too. We do what we have to to survive. In the evening, there are two great pleasures to look forward to: sitting by the wood stove and the warm bath in the antique claw foot cast iron tub. Such simplicity after a long cold day is joyous. It makes me thankful that I have a little hovel to retreat to and warmth, when the critters have neither, only simple shelters. But I do not have a built in wooly coat, so perhaps there is a tradeoff. I am sorry to lose my friend Weezie. Winter is here. I love to watch the geese and ducks. Their love of water is the most fun, after their conversations. The female ducks are the talkers. They bob their heads and wag their tails and chatter to other ducks. The ducks have a winter routine. They move around in the morning looking for food and water. The water is frozen, so they eat some of the fresh snow. There is not much interesting to eat in winter, unless I bring in some kitchen scraps. They are particularly looking for something green, but in the interim, they do nibble on the grass in the hay. It is not quite like fresh new grass, but it is better than nothing. Their dirt pile is now frozen so they will have to rely on commercial grit and oyster shells. The geese, ducks, guineas and chickens all eat the shells, mostly for calcium, but also for some grit, which helps them grind and digest the grain. The highlight of their day is when the water arrives. They simply cannot wait to have a bath, but with only two tubs for a flock of geese, waiting is sometimes hard. Maybe there is room for two? Ah, yes, there is! I have lost two sheep in the last week. In the grass hay they are fed, there are pockets of alfalfa. Once they find a pocket, they gorge themselves until they are so full. But that is a problem. Without time for the rumen to adjust to such rich protein, it causes gas. The sheep cannot expel the gas from the rumen, the first stomach, and they literally blow up like a big balloon, which puts pressure on their organs and they die a terribly painful death. The interior organs may bleed a little, and so might the anus and mouth as they expand beyond capacity. The first sheep to go was a beautiful Jacob ewe, a great mother who had twins and raised them perfectly. I was so sorry to see her go. Once they start to get bloated, they can die in a matter of hours, as happened this morning. I checked the sheep this morning, and every one was fine. Some were chewing their cuds, while others were still filling their bellies. They have a hay bale in a livestock feeder and they also have another area where I throw grass hay over the fence, since a couple are very shy and hang back until the others eat. By noon, the second sheep was dead, head back and feet up. I did not even see her lying down. The first clue was that the ravens were visiting the sheep pen. They peck the eyes out and eat them first, but they do that to live lambs too, because it disables them. The puppies do not know that they should chase ravens away yet, so the ravens made quite a mess. I did an autopsy on the sheep, just to be sure there was nothing else wrong. She was an E'st a Laine Merino, a rare breed and a breed that is difficult to acquire, and she was in perfect health. The sheep are wormed with garlic fairly often, sometimes twice a month. The garlic does not kill the worms, but makes the host inhospitable and they exit. Soon, there is no worm cycle and the majority die and reinfection does not occur regularly. Still, I do the Famacha test (look at the eyelid colour) for anemia to be sure they are eating the garlic. Today, to help guard against the bloat, I mixed the garlic with sheep mineral and baking soda. Most of the sheep had a few tastes, which should be all it will take, but they need to have that daily until their rumens adjust to the alfalfa. The rest of the hay is from the same supplier, so there will be a small percentage of alfalfa in the hay. Hopefully, the sheep will all have created the proper bacteria they need to digest the rich feed and there will be no more losses. I am greatly saddened by the loss of my sheep and sorry I could not do anything to prevent death or save them from it. Today I watched them all so closely and even gave the goats some of the same mixture, as bloat can affect goats as well. I will gIve the boy sheep and goats and the ewe lambs some tomorrow as a precaution too, since all have the same hay. This is a learning experience for me and I must educate myself regarding introducing hay with alfalfa in it in such a way that the sheep do not die. Sad. It is not the most ideal situation for goats to be kept with sheep because of their nutritional requirements being different, but it is the only solution at this time. Raven was one of Weezie's tiny twins born this summer. He had a rough start on life, but got lots of love from my son and I, and that, along with some vitamin shots, helped get him on track. He is still tiny for his age, but not in his mind. He has been cohabiting with the rabbit, Petey, but Petey's diet is slightly richer than a young male goat should have, so now that he is big enough not to get through the wire fence, he has moved in with the boys. The boys were interested in him to see if by chance he might be female, but no such luck for them. Raven was frightened since his size is a tenth of Walter's and there also are quite a few ram lambs, all of which are very gentle. There are also the two goats, Leo and Colby Junior, the Angora bucks, but Leo is going to the females at the end of the month. I am quite sure Colby, who is a kid from earlier this year, and Raven will become good friends once Leo is gone. Poor little Raven! When I went to see how he was doing, he ran to me. I picked him up and cuddled him and he put his little head on my chest with his tiny heart beating so fast through his chest against me. He is a sweet heart. It is the season to send the rams to the breeding ewes. They do not know it yet, because they are relatively isolated from the rest of the farm, but I see that a few of them are becoming interested in each other, so the hormones are running high. The little Babydoll ram, the white one, will be put in with the ewe lambs. There are four Babydoll ewe lambs, ready to breed and two or three others that likely will take, but the rest are a bit young. The advantage of using the tiny ram is, of course, tiny babies. On the other hand, Walter, the Cotswold ram, is the largest boy on the farm after Winston, the Suffolk who used to be a boy. Steven, the two horned Jacob will breed the single Jacob ewe and two others and Eric will have the privilege of breeding the two Icelandic ewes and the new ewe Icelandic ewe lamb. Then Walter will just have to do all the others, poor guy. That will leave him about ten ladies, all to himself. Walter is a good natured, good looking purebred Cotswold ram that is positive for colour, though he is white. If he breeds a ewe positive for colour, then coloured babies may result. Last year's lambs were vigorous, healthy and strong, sired by Walter, Eric and Steven. I am hoping for another excellent healthy crop this year. Here's to you, boys! Celia is a goat, a very healthy, strong, robust goat. She is not so friendly unless there is food, then she will come right up to me, climb on me, bowl me over or whatever it takes to get what she wants - NO FEAR. Celia had quadruplets last summer, three very beautiful healthy babies and a tiny, tiny one without the will to thrive. She was perfectly formed and in good health, but driven out by the three strong ones without the drive to succeed, she soon was a very hungry baby. She would not suck a bottle and ended her life a few days after entering the world. Celia is a great mom, too and fed the three babies with no problem, ushering them where she thought they were safest and happiest. But, Celia has a propensity for trouble. The crate from the big plastic tank is on trial as a livestock feeder. For the most part it works, that is except for Celia. Two or three times a day she gets stuck in it. She has no trouble getting her head inside, but does not remember to twist the horns to get back out and then yells for me to come and rescue her. Once liberated, she runs away as though it was MY fault, again. Oh Cecilia, you're breaking my heart! Ducks and geese are hardier than chickens by far. Some chicken breeds, those without large combs and wattles (the hangy down things from their noses) fare better in the cold. Large combs are subject to frost bite and freezing, then turn black and fall off. How painful that is for the chickens. One breed of duck, the Muscovy, has large caruncles, or red hangy down or puffed up warts around its face and eyes, and that area is most delicate and subject to freezing as well. Generally the other duck breeds and geese are very winter hardy and prefer to be out on the snow than cooped up in a building. At the Fat Ewe Farm, the ducks and geese are housed together in a long hoop shelter, 16 by 8 by 6 feet high. It is covered with two tarps and the ground edge is shored with spoiled hay from the lambs next door, insulating the ground level area where the birds stay. In very cold weather, they tuck their legs up by their sides and rest their down covered bellies on the ground, nearly impervious to the cold. The females are better at tucking their heads under their wings than the males, but both will do it. Even when it is forty below, they want to get their whole bodies into the water for a bath. The droplets freeze on their feathers and they look like little ice men when they emerge. Then they spend the next hour preening, that is spreading the oil from their glands through their wet feathers. It is the preening that waterproofs them and weather proofs them and is very important in keeping them warm. If they do not have the opportunity to bathe, then they must at least have a bucket in which they can stick their heads or their eyes and nostrils can become pasty and dry. They will flick water on their bodies with their heads, similar to bathing, but not quite. Aside from the water, they need to eat something. At this farm, they are fed whole oats, barley and wheat and dirt, plus oyster shells for calcium. The dirt is collected from the forest and is full of microbes and roots. They will spend hours rooting through it and gobble up whatever tasty morsels they find, along with the dirt. They do get minerals from the dirt. It is good to have the soil tested to see what they could ingest and what might be lacking. From time to time, they get lettuce and kitchen scraps and they do eat the meat that the dogs leave on their bones. People told me geese were strictly vegetarian, however; they are not. They will eat bugs, slugs, and worms, plus they do not mind nibbling at meat as well. Winter is hard for the waterfowl, because a good portion of their natural diet is grass, so I also feed them hay. They will eat the leaves and grass in the hay, especially any dried dandelions, which they seek out and gobble up rapidly. The roughage helps to keep their digestive tract healthy too, but they are getting roughage from the whole grains and the dirt/leaves/roots too. I find the ducks very comical with their antics. They have become quite tame for the most part and do not move much when I walk amongst them. They also herd well and after one attempt to move them, they know where to go on their own. The geese have separate quarters, but they sleep with the ducks in the big house, along with two or three chickens and sometimes, if it is warmer, the guinea hens.Just a few duck or two geese could easily live in a dog house for the winter. Duck eggs are three times more nutritious than chicken eggs, but they do not generally lay in the winter in a normal situation. For that, they would need a heated coop and supplemental daylight. I believe in allowing their natural rhythms dictate their laying schedule because it gives their bodies a chance to rest and rejuvenate for spring. Ah, spring...just another six months away. Winter is a time of survival for the waterfowl, and for me. Three rabbits live at the Fat Ewe Farm, a Flemish Giant buck imported from Holland and a locally bred Flemish Giant female, called a doe, plus a French Lop , also local. These are true gentle giants, especially the French Lop. It is hard to imagine eating them, but that is what they are bred for. The rabbits are the best converters of food to meat of all the animals. Pound for pound, two rabbits will produce more meat than a cow in a year if they are bred several times. Each of these rabbits will dress out at ten pounds or so and there are maybe ten babies in a litter, three litters a year. From the three rabbits, then , three hundred pounds of meat can be produced, but they require less space than cows and eat about a tenth of what cows do or less. The manure from rabbits can be utilized without composting, aka fresh, and is full of nutrients and nitrogen. The hardest part of all this is the fact that they are friendly, sweet and cute. How am I going to eat the bunnies? I have a hard time raising anything to eat it, but I am getting better. At first, I could not eat the pork raised here and now I can. The lamb is better than the store bought because it is strictly grass fed. The rabbits are primarily grass fed too, except for right now. They are getting a little grain, not much, to supplement them in winter. In the wild, rabbits would not eat grain in any quantity, just the odd seeds here and there. I feed them hay and it has leaves, weeds, some twigs and grass in it and should supply all they need to remain healthy. I have put off breeding the rabbits because I am not sure I can go through with butchering their babies, yet, from a point of sustainability, it is a wiser thing to do than to buy a cow. I do enjoy the rabbits and do not plan to eat these three, but what happens when they are old? Geeeeeeee. There are seven dogs at The Fat Ewe Farm, all of them livestock guardians except Robbie, the border collie, who is the herder. The pups are 6 months old now and refuse to stay with the sheep. They do not mind taking their afternoon naps with the sheep and they basically grew up in the sheep pen, but now they are bigger, they can climb over the fence to be with the pack and they do. Having a pack of six livestock guardian dogs can be challenging. I must be the alpha in their eyes and so far there has never been a question about it. Once in a while the dogs have challenged me, but I scream and yell at them and flip them over on their backs and hold them down at the throat, or at least did when they were younger. Now, I do not have to. The dogs are housed in dog city for the winter, but they do not avail themselves of the houses offered unless they want privacy or it is very cold and snowy, as in a blizzard. In minus 20 weather, they park themselves on some hay somewhere and pay attention to what goes on. During the day, they may sneak into a house to sleep uninterrupted by the day to day activity on the farm. They have a house they prefer, though if it is occupied, they will choose another without incident. The two largest houses are made from the big 1000 liter plastic tanks that are encased by an aluminum cage. I had the bars unscrewed and the inside plastic removed, then I cut a hole in it about the size of Harley and Ofcharka, filled it with ten inches of dry straw and put some more straw on the roof. Then the roof has a plastic sheet on top to keep the straw from blowing away in strong winds and to provide a little more warmth. There is a sheet of plywood in front of the openings as well, which blocks the direct wind from blowing inside the houses. There are two small plastic barrel houses turned on their sides. Little Jenna could easily fit in one, or Robbie, if he is not dragging anything along with himself, but usually he is. The other barrel has been adopted by the cats, and it has a covering of hay over it for insulation. When more snow comes, the blanket of white will further insulate the houses. Mike and Joe, the pups, have their own houses in the sheep pen, however; if they are not going to stay there, I will have to remove them to the yard. First, though, I will try giving them the option of easily returning home. Perhaps once they know they can go in and out on their own, they will be more apt to return to the sheep. In the photo, dog city is in progress. It can get very cold here in the north of Canada. Robbie is not built to sleep outside in winter, but the other dogs are. They just need a good shelter in case of bad weather and the option to be able to use it if they please. In the summer dog city is a row of wooden houses with lots of open spaces and dirt floors, just to keep them out of the sun and rain. In the area, the neighbours report coyotes, bears, foxes, and other predators and problems with deer, but I do not see nor hear any of these. That is the what the dogs are for and I am grateful they do a good job keeping predators at bay. For that and so much more, I give them deluxe accommodations at the Fat Ewe Farm. |
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AuthorFluffy writes daily about the experiences on the farm and with the bed and breakfast patrons. Archives
October 2020
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