I guess I just did not understand. Angora goats are nothing like the goats I own or have owned in the past. I love my goaties, especially the Pygmy goats. They are so full of life and vigor and fun and are a pleasure to watch. I even love Sarah, the Alpine that was bottle fed and grain fed and cannot help herself when she will do anything for grain. Sarah is locked in the dog kennel until the snow goes, because with the amount of snow we have, she can just walk over the fences and she does. 
But Angoras, now that is another story. I did research on the breed prior to buying them and found nothing out of the ordinary when it came to their husbandry, except their hooves grow twice as fast as the other breeds of goats. What I did not find out that I wish I had, is that the goats are dumb, every ounce of self preservation bred out of them in favour of their fleece, which is what we know as mohair. 
They are poor mothers and often need to be cordoned off with their offspring to figure out they had a baby and they should care for it. They do not nurture their babies like the Pygmies, who are instantly bonded to their kids, and protect them and teach them things. The Angora does not even cuddle her baby or try in any way to keep him warm, instead lies away from him as though she forgot he existed. 
But that is not the worst part. They do not know how to eat hay, at least mine don't. They were only fed pelleted food and straw for roughage, so when i offered them hay, they did not eat it. It has been a couple of weeks since I got the Angoras, and I am having second thoughts about keeping them. They require intervention for kidding and daily help for the kids to nurse for about a week. I will not feed pelleted food, which is made from GMO grains, so if they do not adapt to eating hay only, I suppose I will have to separate them and feed them some oats. 
I did some searching on the internet for hardy Angoras and none exist, but the cross of a Nigerian Dwarf or Pygmy with the Angora produces a fibre animal and the fibre is good for spinning. Depending on the quality of the fibre, A, B or C class, it is quite sought after, as is mohair. Since I have Pygmies and Nigerians and an Angora buck, then next year I will see how that works. If I get a Nigerian buck I will breed the Angoras with the Nigerian instead of the Angora and produce some Pygoras or Nygoras. Hopefully they will inherit the Pygmy goat's hardiness, ease of kidding and ability to thrive on a grass fed farm. In the meantime, the Angoras that were sheared will not leave the barn to eat or drink, so I have had no choice but to bring food and water to them. They basically have stood in the same place for over 24 hours now. We had a blizzard yesterday and it is snowing today, but is not as cold, yet still well below zero. The Angoras are huddled in a corner of the barn, shivering and basically glued to their spots. Hopefully it will quit snowing and warm up soon and they will actually go outside. 
I was going to get 4 more Angoras, coloured ones, which are rare, but am really rethinking that one. Hmmm. 

The Karakuls are a unique sheep in Canada, and a rare breed, but in Central Asia, they are one of the most plentiful breeds, especially Mongolia and Uzbekestan.

During the height of their popularity, over 4 million, either newborn or about to be born, lambs were taken for their tightly curled lustrous pelts, which were fashioned into coats and hats for the haute couture trade. When people were made aware of exactly how the pelts were procured, the popularity quickly subsided and the value of the sheep decreased greatly. Many were slaughtered and few records were kept of the remaining sheep in North America. The Karakuls can cross with other sheep, however; they store their nutrients and fat in their tails, similar to the way a camel stores water and nutrients in the hump. When forage is good and plentiful, the Karakul tails swell considerably and when lean times come, the stored "food" is slowly absorbed by the body and the tail gets smaller once again. 

The Karakul wool is primarily a felting wool or used for carpet making. It is highly durable and very strong, but rather too coarse to wear. The Mongolian method of felting large mats is to use an existing mat, spread the wool evenly over the top and roll it up with a log, then to drag the log rolling along creating the felt as it forces the wool to bond to itself. These mats are then used to cover the yurts in which the herdsmen live, protecting them from the elements and severe cold in the winter. Karakuls are also milked for the babies, because cows do not live where the Karakuls thrive. 

There are two 100% pure Karakuls on the Fat Ewe Farm, Dora and Olga, named after my aunts, and Lena, who is 75% pure and white, named after my mother.  She is a beautiful sheep and has the Karakul fleece, but her tail is not as fat as Dora's or Olga's.  Now that the sheep are sheared, it is easy to see those tails. Remarkable, isn't it, how nature adapts?

Oh boy, what a big day for the Fat Ewe Farm. It is amazing how things work in the universe. The shearers were here a few weeks ago and declined to shear because things were not set up properly, only I did not know what properly was until they explained it to me. Last year, it was a different shearer and she wanted things set up properly too, only her properly. 
So, with new instructions, the two farm hands who often help me out, set up the holding pen, catch pen and shearing area inside the barn. We then brought the rams over and put them in a separate area ready for their turns first. The sheep are turned to sit on their rumps and are most comfortable when they have empty stomachs and bladders. They were not fed, but there was hay on the pen floor, so many of them ate fairly well and that made it difficult for them and the shearers, while others were fairly emptied out and were easier. Then there are the wild sheep, the Barbados, Painted Desert and Shetland crosses and the Icelandics, who were not easy to shear. Some of the sheep had little bugs biting into their skin, like tics, only they are flies without wings, called keds. Because they will be exposed to below freezing temperatures tonight, the keds should drop  off of the sheep and freeze. The shearers also recommended keeping the chickens with the sheep, since the chickens will eat the keds. That was the plan anyhow, but now it is confirmed. 

Shearing is a real art and to me, it seems it is very hard on the shearer. Manone got kicked in the lip, giving her a fat and bleeding pout with a dirty hoof. The wrangling of a large sheep weighing several hundred pounds is not easy. Hands get sore too and it is not feasible to wear gloves. Even though the shearers wore harnesses, the harness only takes some stress off the back, but still they must lean over and bend down to do the work. Plus, squeezing the hoof trimmers on some hooves is very difficult. Different breeds and different sheep have varying degrees of hardness to their hooves. I did not ask how it occurred, but Rod is missing the tip of one of his fingers. Manone has various degrees of cuts and scratches and Rod wears a bandaid on another digit. This is hard work and the couple is not as young as they once were. They work about six months of the year, moving from farm to farm and staying in hotels or stranger's beds, eating victuals prepared by farm wives or often catching something on the run not as healthy as they would prefer. 

I tried shearing last year, three sheep, and found it excruciating. Mind you, I had no idea what I was doing and nicked and cut the sheep in a few places. I am better at trimming their hooves than shearing. 

The shearers are staying at the bed and breakfast, and after preparing a simple supper of bacon and omelets and perogies, I joined them. We chatted at length, laughed and I genuinely enjoyed their company. What great folk they are. They retired and I quickly tidied the kitchen and got the dishwasher going, then off to my little farmhouse I trotted. What a very busy day it was and I will be so grateful to sink into my organic mattress where I am surrounded by a wool mattress pad and wool comforter. ZZZZZZZ. 

Nope, not muffins! It is hot process soap in a silicone mould. In the old days, all soap was hot processed. Grandma would render the fats, add the lye and water and usually cook it on the stove top for a long time, an hour or two, until it looked like mashed potatoes. Then to test for doneness, it was common to taste the soap, that is put a little on the tongue tip. If it burned with a zap, the lye needed longer to incorporate into the soap. If nothing was felt, it was ready. 
The soap in the moulds was hot processed the old way, that is cooked in a large pot on the stove, then put into moulds. The advantages of this are several: the soap can be used the next day since it is cured by heat, scents and speciality oils are added after the soap is chemically balanced, after saponification, and the lye does not affect them. In cold process soap, the soap  is poured into moulds when it reaches simple incorporation of lye,oil and water, called trace. Then it is cured for 6-8 weeks in order to be useable. During that time, the essential oils are diminished greatly by the saponification process. 
The best way to make hot process soap is not to spend time cooking it though. It is to bring it to trace, or the point where all ingredients are mixed  to a pudding like consistency, then add essential oils and other ingredients and pour it into wooden moulds lined with waxed heavy paper (freezer paper works wonderfully) and put the soap into an oven set at 170. The oven is turned off after an hour leaving the soap to continue its saponification process overnight. The next day, the soap is removed from the moulds, cut and left to air cure for a week or 10 days, but it is useable immediately, since the saponification process is accelerated by the heat. 
This project resulted in 5 soaps from one recipe: Orange Cream, Pure, Rosy Geranium, Lavender, and Pink Grapefruit with Vanilla Specs.The Orange Cream smells so delicious, you may want to eat it!

I love my little goaties, even though they pick through their hay and eat the best parts first. Then if they have stepped on the hay, they do not eat the rest, so lots is wasted. There are some sheep in with the goats and they are not quite as fussy, but will pick the best out too. I don't mind feeding the sheep and goats. It involves hauling toboggans of hay unrolled from large round bales at this time. Until the bale forks come for the skid steer (and that is a long story as to why they are not here), this is the method that I must use. There is no way to move those big bales, only to unroll them vertically and haul the hay. The little goaties get a lot of their hay on the other side of the fence along the fence line, because they can stick their heads through the fence and eat the good parts and NOT step on the rest. 

The problem is, when I felt sorry for the horses, I let them out, thinking they would run to the bush to eat the good things there, but no! They ran straight over to the llama's side and they now dominate them, not allowing them to eat at all. The llamas are going to starve if I do not get the horses out of there, but I cannot open the gate wide enough. They came on their own by traipsing through the deep snow all around the perimeter of the farm yard, but they won't go back. I want to lock them up again and force them to only eat their own hay. It was not as though they did not have enough, either. Their feeder was always full, but it was more work than eating it off the ground as the llamas do. Piggie horses. 

I am waiting for Willa to jump the fence into the goat's side, because the goats are pregnant and they get premium alfalfa hay in this last two months prior to delivery, while the horses get a taste of the good hay and then get standard grass hay. You know the old saying about the grass always being greener...? 

So, because there is so much waste feeding this way, I must do it twice a day, or the animals just walk on it, poo on it and waste it. Instead of 4 hours a day, yesterday, in the bitter cold of minus 20 with a windchill factor making it feel like minus 25, and snowing on top of that cold, I spent 6 hours out feeding and watering. I do need to get busy making soap for the farmer's market too. Tuesday is shearing day and the goats and sheep will be moved around. Hopefully some one will be able to open the gate by digging out the frozen snow and ice and the horses can go back home. 

The vet tech said to make sure the cones stayed on the dogs for 10 days at least, 14 preferably. I said that was not likely to happen and she told me to keep the dogs quiet and warm. Hmm, these are farm dogs, vigorous, outside, chase 'em dogs, not pansy house dogs. This is what Robbie's cone looked like at the end of the first day. 

The little Angora kid is doing remarkably well now. When I go to check on him and his mamma, he gets up and runs to her and calls. This is a far cry from the first day when I questioned his survival at all. Thank you Creator for the miracle of birth and the joy of life for the little boy!

The geese are nesting, oh no. It is far too cold for them to be nesting here. Today and yesterday were both minus 20 with fierce winds and over 6 inches of new snow. I went in and messed up the nest twice now, but today the goose hens were busy fixing it and testing it out and making sure I did not come near them or the new nest. The waterfowl winter area will soon be dismantled, so this is not where the geese will nest anyhow. Should I tell them?

There was not much sleep to be had last night. Why of all nights did it have to snow? Ofcharka was first tied to his dog house, where he has been tied lately to learn to quit barking at the neighbour's dogs. This means me opening the window frequently and yelling at him when he sounds off. He needs to learn discernment barking. Of course, the young Maremma pups have followed his lead and bark at the neighbour's dogs too, so they need to learn that is not appropriate. Now that they are spayed, hopefully the dogs will stay home. 

But for some reason the removal of their female organs has incited a great interest in breeding the puppies by the other dogs, including Robbie who also lost his boy parts yesterday, so there is ownership aggression to deal with, to see whom the dominant breeder will be. Harley and Ofcharka are double Robbie's size, but he is such a pain in the butt, that they acquiesce to him for the most part and he rules the pack, next to me of course. So, to give the puppies some peace, I tied Ofcharka near the hay bales where the dogs often sleep on the fallen hay. Then the snow started and he was miserable, not wanting to stay there, crying like a baby. Just after midnight, then I donned my coveralls and boots and released him. I have no idea where he slept though. There are quite a few choices, since Jenna was in his house and Jade was in Harley's because with the cones on their heads, it was the only place they could fit. One of both of them slept in the barn, judging from the newly rearranged hay. 

Then the morning came too quickly. Drat that time change anyhow. Waking up an hour earlier than I need to simply because some beauraucrat decided that an hour of daylight would save money, yeah in 1941! The lights are on all the time now, anyhow, so I do not think it applies anymore. I was exhausted from the busy day with no break yesterday, the night of rescuing the dogs and stopping the barking and Robbie whining because he doesn't want the cone on his head. This too shall soon pass. The little newborn goat kid is doing fine, despite the frigid temperatures. His little body was warm and his tummy full, so he is continuing to feed himself and have enough energy to maintain his temperature. I gave his mamma fresh warm water and alalfa hay and fed Sarah the goat, who is in the dog kennel jail since with all the snow she is over the fences and into every critter's grain constantly. I am afraid she will overeat the grain and suffer bloat and even death, therefore, to protect her from herself, she is in jail. At least she has stopped her 24 hour crying!

Here is to hoping tonight will be a better rest for all and warmer temperatures and NO MORE SNOW! and no more fights for poor Harley!

Wouldn't you know it. Just when there is something really interesting to tell, the internet goes down, and stays that way for almost 5 days. I complained and a fellow was sent out to appease me, though he did nothing and I still had to wait for the next day and the tower climber. As it turns out, the radio receiver at the top of the tower was gone and needed to be replaced, which the second man did and all is well  now. Thank you, thank you. I did not quite realize how important the internet has become to me. 

There I was soap making and wanted to check an essential oil and could not because there was no access. I have it in a book some where, but which book and where is that book? We don't use books as we once used to. 

In the meantime, one of the new Angora goats had a kid. The weather was decent, cold, but not frigid. He cried out loud, so I went to look for him and she had already cleaned him off. He was a little wobbly, so I helped him nurse and he did a good job, but just after that, he became floppy and could not get up. I ran to the house and got a shot of selenium and Vitamin E, in case he has white muscle disease, which has symptoms  like no muscle tone and weakness as a result of not enough selenium. He did not perk up, so I moved him to the barn and then went to get the mother. Normally, they follow their babies, but she didn't no matter how loud I made him cry. 

He also lost the ability to suck, so I milked the mom, still with colostrum, and painstakingly force fed him with a bottle, about two ounces in total. This I did again and again every 4 hours, also each time putting him back to his mother in case the urge to suck returned. Finally, after two days, he did manage to drink from mother, but he had to be held up to do so, still with no tone in his back legs especially. The third day, he was drinking well, but still needed to be held in place. His right back leg was terribly weak and the foot turned backwards when he attempted to stand. Then, thank the heavens or stars or the Creator, or whomever helped, thank them all, he could stand, not long enough to nurse, but it was a start. Another day of assistance and he was up and on all fours and to my surprise, his little tummy was round and he was warm , which meant he fed all by himself. I still was there every four hours to be sure and when I was confident he could do it on his own, I only went to hold him and pet him and feed and water mamma. She allowed me to milk her quite a few times with no problems. I am not familiar with Angoras and milk production, but she is sure quiet for milking. The little fellow is on his way to being a big strong buck!

Then the fellow who smashed the window on the new skid steer brought it back fixed and bolted it in place for me. Now I have to vacuum the shattered glass out of the cab, since it is finally unstuck and moved close to a receptacle. 

Today was spay and neuter day too and I also picked up the new laser printer to print labels for the soap and other farmer's market products, since it is now a requirement that each article has to be labeled individually. When I returned with two little Maremma puppies and one border collie, they were sore and miserable and not happy. Scared, Jenna tried to bite me when I wanted to get her out of the back of the truck. All three dogs have cones on their heads and are worse than bulls in china shops, knocking into everything and getting stuck. One thing I hadn't counted on is the girls do not fit in their dog houses with the cones on, so Jade took Ofcharka's house and Jenna took the spare and poor Ofcharka is sleeping on the ground. It is minus twenty tonight so I will go get him a nice bunch of straw to curl up in. He often sleeps out of his house, even on cold nights, so this is not going to be hard on him at all. Harley is sleeping outside again tonight, still recovering from the dog fight wounds with the neighbour dogs that keep crossing the highway and coming here. Robbie is inside and will not quit whining. I am trying to be patient, but three cone heads is hard to take. 

And that was the eventful last few days! Whew! Robbie, shut up! 

This is an opinion, an opinion formed over time and after a great deal of learning. Although I have always been a greenie, an earth mother or some would say hippie type, I believe the Earth and its peoples are in a crisis, though an awakening has begun. 

After the second world war, things began to change here on the planet. New inventions made life easier, yet there was les time for family. Nations of people starved, while nations grew fatter and fatter, particularly North Americans. Something was wrong, but the information fed to the public through media painted a rosy picture and promised cures through pills and chemicals. The cause was less talked about. 

There is enough land to feed the peoples of the world. It is the greed of a handful of overseers who control mostly everything and for years, people lived in a false reality being fed by television, newspapers and events also owned by this handful of people. Some thing sprung up, The Georgia Stones, but who commissioned it is unknown. It gives commandments for life and one is to reduce the population to 500,000,000. That would eliminate all but 10 % of today's people. How this is being accomplished is by poisoning and controlling food. 

The first genetically modified foods were not really prevalent in the North American diet until the 1990's and in 25 short years, over 80% of food contains altered ingredients. Years ago, in the 1970's, I attended a lecture on food, a radical, controversial lecture. The speaker said we must avoid homogenization, hydrogenation, white flour and white sugar because those products were designed to keep people sick. There is no money in the drug industry in healthy people, so that same handful of people who control food, also control health. 

It took a long time and many years of research to finally put it all together. In a nutshell, the plan to eliminate people had been implemented quite some time ago, not clandestinely, but openly, for in the open, what was provided could certainly not be wrong, now could it? The same group of people also control money in the USA and print it or not as they wish, since there is nothing to back it up. The only commodity viable is human life and that is why we have to be registered when we are born. The admiral law then gives the country the right to use John Doe, now JOHN DOE, as a commodity or collateral . 

So, back to the control of food. It came to my attention a dozen years ago that Codex Alimentarius, the governing body for mandatory food labeling, was not one of the good guys. Why didn't genetically modified food ingredients have to be labeled? Why were people not given a choice?

Causing cancer, not curing cancer, keeping people sick and obese, but not dead, means that the pharmaceutical industry, which is a sister to the chemical/oil industry had gained control. 

But, this is the Golden Age, the Age of Aquarius, where man was promised 1000 years of love, peace and harmony, not war, domination and tyranny which has kept us hungry and in the dark ages. The beginning of the age was the winter solstice of 2012, a season to herald great change. And guess what? Everywhere people are awakening to the reality of their world, the blind control they have been under and are making changes, slowly and surely. Many may still die from the harmful effects of the toxic foods and substances that have been forced on us and many will become sterile so that reproduction of mankind is greatly reduced. 

There have been those awakened and enlightened ones all along. They have been saving organic seeds, eating organic whole foods and have maintained their health and well being. It will take a long time for the land to recover from the chemicals man has plied to it, but it will recover in time and in time, the Earth will once again flourish. Man will help fellow man and greed and hunger will all but be eliminated. The movement has begun and for the first time since the New Testament, those evil ones in control will fall. The Golden Age is upon us and I am blessed and filled with gratitude to be within its beginnings. 

Breathe in the love of the universe and share it with the Earth. Grow viable organic seeds in a sustainable organic way. Treat all life with respect, from the lowly blade of grass and humble bumble bee, to the life sustaining water and the air we breathe. Everything is alive, has a spirit and has a name and we are all connected. Love is the key. 

Namaste.

The cria, baby llama, is only a few days old. When she was new born, a friend and his wife and I, moved her along with her mother to a safer pen with a good shelter. Try as I might, I could not get mama llama to stay in the shelter, so I put a gate up. The mother could jump the side easily and did, but until today, I had no idea how she got the baby out. At first, I thought that perhaps she somehow lifted the baby out with her strong neck, but that wasn't it. Really, there should have been no way for the baby to get out of there, yet she was out in short order both times I locked her in. It was a mystery.