The hay I have was supposed to be number 1 grass hay and is anything but that. The sheep eat it just fine, but the goats only eat the leaves, of which there are not many, so there is a tremendous waste. I am piling up what they do not eat and will take it to the horse. Hopefully he will munch on it. It is hard to fine a balance with the hay. Too much protein as in alfalfa or clover hay, and the sheep or goats can bloat and die, unless it is gradually introduced to them to allow the bacteria in their rumens to accustom itself to the rich feed. Too few leaves on the grass, and they waste the rest. This hay, which cost a premium price, has a lot of dead brown grass,likely last year's crop that did not fully get picked up. It has caused some of the hay to mould and that can cause severe illness in the animals, even death. Goodness! I had no idea the art of feeding hay was so specific. When I eventually find good grass hay, I am going to order it every year, even before it is cut! But, as I said, I am grateful that I have some hay. I have noticed that whole herds of animals are for sale, likely due to the hay shortage. Farmers are compassionate people. When they cannot adequately feed their animals, they will give them up, even it means a great loss to them, which it usually does. I just hope I do have enough to make it till the grass grows again.
Don't get me wrong. I am grateful I have hay to fee the animals, because there is a shortage of it this year as there was last year too. I hope that I have enough and am not scrambling to find more in the early spring.
The hay I have was supposed to be number 1 grass hay and is anything but that. The sheep eat it just fine, but the goats only eat the leaves, of which there are not many, so there is a tremendous waste. I am piling up what they do not eat and will take it to the horse. Hopefully he will munch on it. It is hard to fine a balance with the hay. Too much protein as in alfalfa or clover hay, and the sheep or goats can bloat and die, unless it is gradually introduced to them to allow the bacteria in their rumens to accustom itself to the rich feed. Too few leaves on the grass, and they waste the rest. This hay, which cost a premium price, has a lot of dead brown grass,likely last year's crop that did not fully get picked up. It has caused some of the hay to mould and that can cause severe illness in the animals, even death. Goodness! I had no idea the art of feeding hay was so specific. When I eventually find good grass hay, I am going to order it every year, even before it is cut! But, as I said, I am grateful that I have some hay. I have noticed that whole herds of animals are for sale, likely due to the hay shortage. Farmers are compassionate people. When they cannot adequately feed their animals, they will give them up, even it means a great loss to them, which it usually does. I just hope I do have enough to make it till the grass grows again.
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My dear son Travis is trying to get a vehicle on the road. The first one he bought was an old junker and it came home tied together with bungee straps. The steering column was ruined and was removed and a new one ordered. It has to sit where it is until it can be steered. Drat! Then a Lexus came home, but it did not work either because the wiring was fried. A new wiring harness was ordered, however; they sent the wrong one, so it sits just out of view, behind the first junker. Then a truck came home. It is in working condition, but not drivable, due to not being half there. The back half is missing. Then another truck came home. Last night, with Travis behind the wheel of the non-functional red truck and with me in the skid steer backing up, I pulled the wreck into the yard. I tried to go to bed early, however; Travis rousted me from my warm bed with a plea for help. So, now, I have four vehicles that do not work parked dead in my front yard. My own truck needs a new transmission and I have been on the hunt for a replacement truck because the new transmission can cost upwards of three grand. For another thousand I can find a newer, in better shape, truck that has no issues, hopefully. I am on the lookout. In the meantime, the yard is now a junkyard with an orange balaclava and coverall mechanic at work in the frigid weather. Hmmm, I wish I could get him to clear the sidewalks with as much gusto as he attacks a dead vehicle. Goats are high maintenance! They have to have their little hoofies trimmed twice a year and they need special diets to ensure they get all they require. Poorly fed goats get sick and die, just like that. They also need excellent worming schedules or the worms will literally suck the blood out of them, leaving them anemic and likely to die if not caught early enough. But... They are cute and friendly and curious and comical and give good milk and are simply enjoyable and lovable. So yesterday, it was day two of hoof trimming. I managed to catch the most friendly ones and do their feet a few days before, but the rest suspected something was up and they decided not to come anywhere near me. Travis helped me corner them and catch them. Bending over is hard when you have to do it for a long time, so I sat, or sort of laid and trimmed the toes. The two Angora goats that I had not caught the days before, also need their fiber trimmed around their rear ends and down the legs. They grow such thick fiber that it acts as a strainer for anything that comes its way, in this case feces and urine. The urine salts build up to a septic lump, GROSS! and the feces will collect and clump all the way down the legs. Breeding season is coming up, so a nice clean bottom gives the girls a good chance of pregnancy without the introduction of unwanted bacteria. I cannot say it is easy, but it is rewarding. Finding the appropriate gloves for cold winters and water is not so easy. Last winter I found the perfect gloves at the local Field's store, of all places. They are insulated with some sort of fuzzy fiber and rubber on the outside. They are warm enough to keep my hands from the cold and they also help to keep them dry. The insulation is something that does not get cold when it is wet, sort of like wool, but it is not wool. The advantage is great because my hands do get wet, but stay warm. I am busy working though. The moment I stop for very long, I have to tuck my hands in my pockets so the fingers don't freeze. Drying the gloves was a challenge too. Because they are rubber on the outside, the inside does not dry. So I have two methods of drying them: one hanging on a hook above the wood stove, which allows the moisture to move upwards and out, and the other on the tool hanger right by the stove. If the ones on the tool hanger are not quite dry, then I put them above the wood stove the next day, so that I always have two pairs on the go and one is dry. I wear brown cotton insulated coveralls most of the winter, one piece with a hood. I could not take a picture of myself in them though, so the photo will have to wait for another opportunity. Today I was clipping the mohair from the girl's butts. They grow such thick fiber that it gets caked and matter and has to be clipped off between shearings. It was a darn good thing I had those coveralls on, because I ended up in the snow mostly on top of a goat. I washed my hands three times and they still smelled like goat, even though I had those rubber gloves on. And that is part of the winter gear story! Recently, two of my lambs went to a new home. A young couple with very young children bought them as pets and they love them to bits. Morgan, the male, was a bottle baby because his mother, who had twins, rejected him and kept the sister. The little girl, whom they named Louise, is a sweet little Cotswold/Karakul cross from one of my best sheep, Lena. Lena always has the sweetest and most attractive lambs. Both of the lambs are treated like kittens and are very much loved by the whole family. They go for a walk with them and even have come in the house! Morgan was supposed to be a wether, that is, his testicles were removed by an elastic band when he was a baby. He has been displaying some boy behaviour and there are instances where that procedure fails, so I suppose time (5 months) will tell. In the meantime, the family is enjoying the lambs and I am very sure the lambs are enjoying the family. Thank you for giving my babies such a wonderful home! I put an ad on our local buy and sell internet site looking for some items including a pressure canner and covered cast iron Dutch oven. No one seemed to have a Dutch oven for sale, but there was a canner. I have not gone to look at it yet. The seller of the Dutch ovens had a lot of other items reasonably priced enough to entice me to drive to the next local town, Bonnyville, and check it out. I was glad I did. Along with not one but two brand new never used still in the box Dutch ovens, I got this amazing antique drum carder for wool. Since I have wool sheep, once I learn how to use this, I can make bats and roving and from those yarn could be spun, though likely not by me because it takes too long and garments knit or crocheted or woven. I love felted wool and have purchased a book of felted art items. Needle felted animals and fairies appeal to me too, and I would like to try my hand at those. Also, felted outerwear and rugs are serviceable, warm and delightful to the eye. The hardest part is cleaning the wool. I have been in touch with a woman who breeds long wool sheep and she said the only way, other than coating the sheep with sheep garments, is to feed them on the ground. This requires moving the sheep from the pen, spreading the hay out, and then letting them back in. Not this year, but the next, that is what I plant to do to keep the vegetative matter off the sheep's backs. In the meantime, I have a garage full of wool and mohair to play with and a new to me drum carder too. I love to learn these old arts. Maybe that is because I am getting to be ancient too! One, of the Muscovy ducks has been perpetually hatching eggs this summer, only for some unknown reason, she had no babies. The first time she brooded was with another duck in the dog house. They attempted to sit on a bout 30 eggs, some of them chicken and the rest theirs and other ducks. Chicken eggs hatch in 21 days and duck eggs in 28, so that was already a problem, but as it turned out, there were too many eggs for the two ducks and most of them got cold and none hatched. I finally took them away and fed them to the pigs. There were chicks at various stages that had quit developing, likely because they got a chill. The next time Jemimah tried to nest under the chicken coop. She managed to hatch two ducklings, but the puppies played too rough with them and they died. Then Jemima went under the old chicken coop that has been abandoned for a long long time, long before I got here. The problem is that the drake got eaten by the pigs, so her eggs were not fertile. She had four in the nest. Two fell out and she sat on the other two for well over a month. She is scraggly and bedraggled. She has spent most of the past 4 months hidden under buildings and in the dog house, away from the sun and fresh air. She ate and drank only once a day, enough to keep her alive, but certainly not enough to thrive. So, I took the two eggs out of her nest, broke them and let the dogs lap up the contents. They were not fertile and the yolks were watery from being old and warm. Poor Jemima went back to her nest and tried to find the eggs and fix the nest. Finally she gave up and ambled back to the other ducks. Hopefully she will not go broody until next year and she can recover over the winter. It is wonderful to have a duck mamma raise her babies, but when her own health suffers, then it is time to intervene. Poor Jemima. I sure hope she will have enough strength to stay warm over the winter. I hate them, hate them, HATE them, those house flies. For two months, they have been disgusting. I wonder how bad it would be if the chickens, guineas and ducks did not eat them out on the farm? The smaller houseflies are impossible to keep out of the house. One bed and breakfast guest told me that they went to a restaurant and ended up leaving because the flies were so thick inside that they could not eat. Gross! Every night for the past two months, I get a towel, dampen it, and begin my sojourn of smacking flies off the ceiling. Their favourite two places are the bathroom window and the kitchen ceiling above the light. The window has been cleaned of fly guts umpteen dozen times, but the green glass chandelier is not so easy to clean. It is disgusting with fly poops everywhere. I have washed down the cupboards several times too. The flies are attracted to white. The ceiling is white and one cupboard is white, at least when there are not a dozen flies on them. We now have snow on the ground. One would think the flies would all be wherever flies go in winter, but there were still a bunch in the house. Grrrrrrrrrr! I am hoping this is the last of them. They were nowhere near so bad last year, but the mosquitoes were, so it seems when in Alberta, some bug is gonna bug ya! Three of the consultants (former visit there were five) are returning to stay at the bed and breakfast. They are here on official business and will be working all the days they are here. For their stay, I will cook breakfast, provide bagged lunches and dinners, plus some baking to take to their meetings. I like to challenge myself to do my best, to create wonderful meals that appealing, appetizing and delicious. This takes a lot of preparation work, some recipe study, planning and shopping, and of course cooking and cleaning. This time, there are three men, all quite great to be around with good humour and playful sides. November last year was a quieter month, but aside from this booking we have already more and some in December as well. I am so pleased the bed and breakfast is valuable to the neighbourhood and I am grateful that I can serve others with this opportunity. It is really a wonderful job and I love to listen to the stories that my guests have to share, and of course, I share some of my own if they are interested. What fun! One of the aspects I am not particularly fond of here in the north, is driving. To get somewhere, a lot of driving is usually involved. Nothing is close by. I try to make my day to day living within a 30 km distance or so and except for the dog food, which is closer to 60 km away, I manage to stay within the 30 km for the most part. But, when I want or need something that is not attainable here, the drive is formidable, as it was today. Dorset sheep are not common, and really becoming quite rare. There are two facets of Dorsets, naturally horned and naturally polled. The horned Dorset is a stockier, somewhat larger animal than the polled Dorset. Today, I drove three hours each way to retrieve a pregnant ewe and a non related ram lamb. The farm in Millet, just south of Leduc where the Edmonton International airport is located, was well set up for sheep raising, with the fanciest sheep handling system available and good fences and pens, plus a huge insulated barn. The handsome young farmer and his veterinarian wife now have five children and he works a full time career away from the farm in addition to trying to be a dad and husband. Their time for the sheep was running thin, so they decided to part with them. We had a lovely conversation and I left an hour later with the ewe and little ram, who will breed her next year and any female lambs she has. She is two years old and has had a single lamb the first time. Dorsets are exceptional mothers and commonly have twins or triplets twice yearly, and raise them without any intervention. She is due at the end of December or early in January. When a good mother has lambs in the dead of a cold winter, she will lick them clean and then lay on them to keep them warm, leaving only their heads exposed to breathe. I will watch for her birthing time and when she appears due, I will relocate her to the barn, though not insulated, somewhat warmer than outside in the three sided sheep shelter. Welcome, my lovely Dorset sheep. |
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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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