The First Meeting

Miss Bango, a Foundation-bred Quarter Horse, and I have been companions for fifteen years as of this month. Despite everyone's belief that when I bought the farm I'd soon have a whole barn full of the four legged beasts, I'm a one-horse kind of gal. As a matter of fact, I think the last time I rode a horse other than my own was three years ago when I was in California for a visit and took Rocket my buddy, Tim's Palomino up Sisar Canyon in Ojai with some of my old trail pals.

As the years go by, you learn to recognize your horse's facial expressions and moods. I knew early on that Bango was incredibly jealous and any time she would see me riding or driving other horses, she would turn her back to me and squeal. So when Andy showed up in her pasture on Sunday, needless to say she glared at him with pursed lips and stomped indignantly in her stall.

Monday and Tuesday delivered miserable cold rain and driving bitter winds. Being a priss, I knew the old red mare would resent being turned out so she stayed in her stall brooding about the big blond Belgian she could see from the barn. He would whinny, but she refused to respond.
Finally, I turned her out into the front pasture yesterday. I knew that if I put her in the big pasture with the big horse, she'd make a bee-line for him and proceed to beat the living daylights out of the poor guy.

At first, she kept her distance from the fence line, snorting and prancing, deciding to investigate while Andy stood patiently on his side of the fence waiting for an introduction. Visibly full of attitude, she approached the fence. Both horses stood face to face, their necks arched and silently exchanged greeting for several seconds before the silence and stillness was broken by a blaze of red squealing, kicking and stomping that sent the behemoth of a gelding dashing across the pasture like the devil herself was after him. Cautiously, he neared the fence again and the whole process repeated. After a few episodes of this game, Andy grew bored and went back to grazing. Bango stuck near the fence and cursed at him the rest of the afternoon.

A Sunday of Pictures

Did you ever have one of those days where you felt like you really accomplished something? Today was one of those days. I guess it's also a culmination of a very productive week.

Guilt-Free Veal. The calves' shelter and loafing area. No tiny crates for them!

Most commercial veal operations bucket-feed calves. We use 'mommy buckets' since the sucking reflex on calves also produces saliva to help aid in milk digestion.

One of the steers looking for a handout.

Ralph's awesome garlic garden for next year. He's got four types of garlic varieties planted, including Elephant Garlic.

Rifle season for deer starts tomorrow. Today, all the breeding does were brought up to the barn from the far pasture so some idiot doesn't mistake a goat for a deer and kill one of them. The grabbed as much browse as they could between the back pasture and the barn paddock.

Mother Nature helps us decide what trees get removed.

Along with the movement of the goat herd goes the moving of their portable shelters. The alleyway was designed so that vehicles as well as the portable shelters could be accommodated.


Meet the newest resident of Painted Hand Farm--Ragedy Andy. Jess has been riding him at another farm. Sadly, this sweet Belgian gelding was left for dead in a barn leased las year by her riding instructor. When she moved in, there he was--underweight, sick, overgrown feet and his halter was grown into his face (you can see the permanent divot in his nose)--a real mess. Gradually, Andy was nursed back to health, but he needed a home. Jess and her instructor tag-teamed me the other week when I got caught between the two of them at the feed store. "Mom, we could go trail riding together," she said. I couldn't say no. We stuffed his draft horse butt into the stock trailer earlier this afternoon and now he's here.
Jess is away at the National 4-H Congress so she'll really be excited when she gets home.

WARNING: UGLY UDDER PICTURE BELOW

Emma is feeling much better. She's walking without hesitation, eating and increasingly making more milk day by day. She churned out nearly 20 pounds (2 1/2 gallons) of milk over the last 24 hours on only half an udder! Yes, I'm still hand-milking, too.

As you can see, the entire front quarter is gone...including the teat.. The brown mess hanging at the rear is what's left of it. There is still a teat in the rear quarter, although it continues to pass very bad mastitis when milked. The skin surrounding the teat is also necrotic. The vet says she'll lose that quarter as well, but as long as I can work fluid (and solids) out of the teat, I'm not giving up. Most of the brown mass to the rear is a giant scab sloughing off. I'm keeping salve on the new skin below. The fissure to the right is also beginning to close up. Twice a day I've been cleaning the entire wound with a weak Betadine solution with a large syringe and by hand. I've noticed significant improvements and have the utmost respect for health professionals that not only have to do this sort of stuff on animals, but humans as well.

Naked Bird

Despite my plans to take pictures of my beautiful Thanksgiving turkey and the rest of our delicious dinner, we dug in and polished off a 15-pound bird before I could click off a few images.

I can only hope that the pastured heritage turkeys that graced our customers' tables turned out as juicy and tasteful as ours.

People always ask, ' How long will it take my turkey to cook? and Do you have any good recipes?" So while the numbers are recipes are fresh in my mind, here is how I prepared my family's bird this year.

Pastured Heritage Turkey

1 15-pound bird
2 gallons of brine solution
2 quarts turkey stock
1/2 cup Maple Syrup and Herb Butter

The night before, I made a brine solution for the turkey using a cup of Kosher salt, 1/2 cup brown sugar, 1/2 cup Maple syrup (grade B), peppercorns, bay leaves and a half gallon of apple cider and water. For easier cleanup, I first inserted a plastic bag in a five gallon bucket and then inserted the bird breast down and filled it with the solution. I put a bag of ice on top and set it on the cool porch overnight. The next morning two hours prior to cooking, I removed the bird from the brine and set it on the table to come to room-temperature.

While the oven was heating up to 450 degrees, I whipped a stick of butter with a 1/4 cup of grade B Maple syrup, a tablespoon of rosemary and some orange zest. Working my fingers and hand between the turkey skin and meat, I smeared the butter concoction under the skin as well as on the outside (it helps to pat the bird dry prior to this step). I quartered a large Bosc pear and inserted a quarter under the neck flap and the rest inside of the bird. The bird was placed on a rack in a roasting pan and I added two quarts of turkey stock to the pan and popped it in the oven at 11:30 am.

At 12:20, I peeked in the oven as the aroma of roasting bird was beginning to permeate the house. The breast meat's internal temp was at 104 degrees. By 1:00, the bird was really sizzling (NO BASTING) but the temp wasn't quite there--only 128 degrees. At 1:30, the thermometer read 155 degrees. Darn, I had overshot my goal of 140.

The bird came out of the oven and was left to set on the counter covered slightly with foil until 2:00 pm. The New York Times had a great article including video, The Butcher's Method Takes Carving Off the Table. Let me tell you, folks, this bird-carving method rocked! I especially liked the way they carved the breast similar to the way breast meat would be cut in a deli--across, not with the grain of the meat.

Despite my error in judgment with temperature, the bird came out extremely juicy.

The rest of our dinner included giblet gravy, cranberry compote with pears, persimmons and black raspberry juice, mashed golden sweet potatoes, cornbread & oyster dressing and steamed asparagus.

Many folks have asked for an update on Emma. Since today is Thanksgiving, I won't gross out everyone with ugly udder pictures.

The vet was here yesterday and trimmed away all the necrotic tissue hanging off the udder. The entire front right quarter--teat and all--is gone. The hind right continues to be highly mastitic, but I keep working away at it several times a day to work all the infection out of there. Dr. Trent said chances are good I'll have a Jersey 'goat'. Darn...so much for buying the milker on eBay with four inflations for a cow as opposed to the two-teated model I already had.

After a 5-day round of Penicillin, she's eating well again and her milk production out of her two functioning teats continues to rise by 4-6 ounces a day--not that we'll be able to drink it any time soon. :-(

Grayling, her calf, is growing like a weed. We kicked her out with the four bull calves on Sunday to prepare for their new paddock. She may be the youngest and the smallest, but she rules the roost. Bull calves are almost as dumb as turkeys.

Ralph is working on a shelter using some materials we've managed to salvage from here and there. With winter nipping at our heels, shelter is very important.

Holiday Kick-Off at the Market

This past Friday officially started the holiday season at the Carlisle Central Farmers Market. In addition to the regular hours (8 AM - 2 PM Friday & Saturday), the market included extended evening hours during the Carlisle Downtown Association's Holiday activities--lighting of the Christmas tree in the town square and the arrival of Santa.

Beside our regular vendors were a few additional producers who set up on Friday night and all day Saturday. There was also a cooking demonstration Saturday morning from the market's favorite Chef, Jason Turner who whipped up some delicious goodies with products from various market vendors.

Chef Jason giving customers an idea of what to cook with local foods.

Judy & Jonas Stoltzful from JuJo Acres in Perry County raise some of the finest Certified Organic grass-fed beef you'll ever eat were there will assorted cuts of their meat and sampling Judy's awesome beef bone broth.

Jonas with some of his wonderful beeves.









Dickinson College's farm brought an array of freshly-picked chemical-free produce. The students are always enthusiastic, as you can see from their accessories. I believe the interaction they have with the public can be just as valuable as the education they get in the classroom. It's experiences such as this that really prepare one for life in the real world.

Dickinson students make market fun.

Although most people think food when it comes to a farmers market, Linda Singley from Bearlin Acres is the ultimate when it comes to farmer-produced products such as hers. I've known Linda for years and can tell you that she's out there breeding her sheep, birthing them, raising them, having them sheared, washing the wool, spinning the wool into yarn, dying the wool and ultimately, knitting it into the most gorgeous sweaters, hats, mittens, socks, etc. Her farm is home to not just sheep, but also cashmere goats and alpacas who deliver luxurious fiber. Additionally, Linda also produces some mighty tasty lambs.

Linda with all her wonderful wares.

Another special holiday vendor was Mersida Camdzic, who owns a local European food store in Carlisle. A few years ago I stopped in at her market to purchase some cheeses for a Pennsylvania Farmstead & Artisan Cheese Alliance meeting about ethnic cheeses. We struck up a conversation and I gave her my business card. Since then, she has referred a number of customers from her community (Bosnian Muslims) to the farm to purchase goats. It was really special to see them at the market and have them check to make sure I'd have animals available for the upcoming Eid celebration.

I believe that it's good business for farmers to make an effort to reach out to local ethnic communities. Food is such an important part of people's cultural identity and studies have shown that ethnic customers tend to be much more loyal to their food purveyors that your average white bread American.

Ethnic or not, what I've found is that if you produce a quality product in which you take pride, customers will return time and time again.

Our first (and returning) turkey customer of the year.

Fall Colors

Since a number of my recent posts have been colorful, but in a disgusting kind of way, I'm uploading some images taken over the last few days of the fall colors around here. We've been taking some day trips into the mountains surrounding the Cumberland Valley and yesterday, Ralph & Dan ventured out in the canoe for a few hours floating down the Conodoguinet Creek.

This is the view of the Cumberland Valley from the top of North Mountain.

There was actually snow on the ground at the higher elevations. Ralph threw out the first snowball of the season.

A small, small world

We're nine weeks into the Carlisle Central Market. Business has been better than expected. Each week, the number of 'regulars' seems to increase. It has just been a blast to make new friends with all sorts of people and see their reaction to the availability of really good local foods.

However, this weekend one of our regulars reciprocated. She walked up to the stand and said, "I have something for you to try. Do you know what these are?" she ask as she held out her gift.
In her hand she held an abalone shell containing several very ripe wild persimmons. "I found these out in the woods and didn't know they even grew around here. I wanted to share them with someone who would appreciate them."

Little did she realize that standing only several feet away from her were two former abalone/sea urchin/sea cucumber divers and long-time foragers. This week, Ralph's dive partner from his commercial fishing & diving days came to the farm for a visit. Ralph had brought him down to the market to check out things since Dan, too, used to sell fresh fish at a farmers market in Los Angeles.

"I've never seen anything like that before."

First, that's what Susan Dietrich said, and she's been milking and breeding cows for 30 years. Then that is what my veterinarian said and he's worked for all sorts of large and small dairy farms. The left side continues to milk just fine and appear normal, but this is the view from the right side and from below.

It's official, the front right teat is a goner. The hind right quarter, while still mastic, continues to milk out.
When people ask me why I'm not Certified Organic, I can point to these pictures and tell them that there is no way I'd ever let our heifer suffer through a wound and infection such as this without therapeutic antibiotics. While I don't believe in using them indiscriminately, such as in milk replacer, poultry feeds or animals destined for meat, when it comes to the survival of breeding animals, I'm willing to reach for the syringe.

Emma is still eating, drinking and ruminating, but it's obvious she doesn't feel well. I'm continuing with flushing the wound twice a day with warm water and a squirt of Betadine, patting it dry and applying antiseptic cream. The rest of the udder gets a good rubbing with Udder Comfort.

Fantastic Farmers Market

Wow! This past Saturday at the Carlisle Central Farmers Market was just ripping! People were wall-to-wall and snapping up locally grown foods right & left. Again, our Bratwurst was a hot item along with yogurt, Bovre and Quark from Keswick Creamery. There was dancing from a local Clogging troupe and Dickinson College ended their "Step It Up" bike ride at the market and then gave out their "Carbon Friendly" awards. Several people came up to the stand and thanked me for providing fresh, sustainably grown local foods. They would say how they moved her from Seattle, Ithaca, Tempe, Boston, and other progressive cities in which there are active producer-populated farmers markets and were so disappointed there was nothing like that in the area. I've had customers actually hug me when they find out we sell goat meat by the cut!
Although it's the end of the growing season, I've been taking as much produce out of our gardens along--beets, swiss chard, kales, mustards, herb and salad greens. Customers actually get excited when they find bugs on the greens because they know I'm not using any sort of chemical pesticides. I tell them them I don't charge extra for the bugs.

For anyone who wants to serve the freshest possible food for their Thanksgiving feast, the market will be open on Wednesday, November 21st from 10 AM to 2 PM.

We'll have fresh pastured Heritage Turkeys, salad greens, fresh sage and sun chokes in addition to all our other regular products.

Dishing Out the Worst

WARNING
This post contains stomach-churning images & descriptions.

The right side of Emma's udder which is milking just fine.

I believe that the Universe has a way of testing you before allowing your dreams to be fulfilled and the last few days must be my baptism-by-fire for my long-time dream of wanting to milk cows and make butter. It wasn't enough for Emma to calve a week early in the pouring rain. The heifer calf survived and is aptly named "Gray Skies"...Gray for short.

The next challenge was getting Emma to let her milk down. You see, cows' teats aren't like spigots. They just don't turn on with a squeeze. Any woman who has ever given birth understands the concept of milk let-down and cows are no different.

But Emma just wouldn't give it up. I tried removing the calf (the first choice was to dam-raise) and massaging the udder for a few minutes prior to trying to milk, still only a few squirts would come out and then stop. We fired up the Surge Milker and still no milk. We used oxytocin and got a little more, but not much.

The calf had chosen to nurse the left side which began to milk out fine, but despite repeated tries at milking the right side, it continued to swell and finally Emma's udder split.

The left side of Emma's udder which is a total mess.

No, this wasn't a crack...it's a nasty tear right down to the subcutaneous udder fat. No bleeding, but a lot of weeping. The majority of the serum trickled down over the front teat forming a hard scab and essentially closing up that quarter. I washed the entire area with a mild Betadine solution and called the vet. He set me up with injections of Lasix (diuretic), Dexamethasone (steroid) to reduce the edema and a jar of antiseptic cream.

The morning following the two injections and a liberal dose of cream, the right hind quarter finally let the milk flow.

Needless to say that all this mess on the right side has set up a nasty case of mastitis. Ralph was helping out and made the comment, "Look, she's already producing butter inside her udder!" as the bright yellow chunks hit the bucket. All the color drained from his face when I explained that it was pus...not butter. The milk was fairly chunky at first, but cleared up about half way through the milking. The front teat still refused to open up. I could feel the chunks inside and knew that when that teat opened, it was going to be equally nasty, if not worse. Milk from a quarter with severe mastitis.

The vet suggested I strip her several times a day in order to clear out the pressure and mastitis. Four hours after the first milking, I went out again. The front right had some flecks, but the milk itself appeared fairly normal.

The front right teat finally opened. Foul doesn't even begin to describe it. Putrid would be a much better word. Images and the Internet can do no justice to what came out of poor Emma's front right quarter. The relief must have been welcomed because she gave out an incredible sigh after I got a quarter cup of solid waste stripped out. I only got about a pint of sludge, but I'll go back in a few hours and see what can be stripped out again.

The milk from the right side appears and smells normal. Gray finally got the hang of the bottle and is drinking up everything I get out of the right side as well as some of the replacer I use for the bull calves.

I realized this post has been graphic and a bit disgusting, but this is my experience. No where in any of the books & articles I've read (Keeping a Family Cow by Joann Grohman, Backwoods Home Magazine) is anything like this described. On all the lists and forums, everyone is on their soap boxes about raw milk and the joys of having your own cow, but darn it, sometimes it's just not as easy as it sounds.

This is reality, my reality right now. Is it frustrating and discouraging? Yes, but I believe this is just life asking me if this is really what I want to do.

Back on Grass

Despite offering her some grass hay, alfalfa hay and even a little sweet feed, Emma hasn't been too interested in eating since calving on Wednesday. To coax back her appetite, I decided to set her up on the freshest, choice grass and clover on the farm. That patch also happened to be our front yard. After spending the time to get the portable paddock all set up, Emma refused to get up. Finally, I gave her an ultimatum--either get up or lose out on fresh grass. Nothing was lost in translation and she lumbered to her feet. Once outside, her head went down and that's where it stayed for the next few hours while the calf followed her around nosing all four teats, which she is now draining, thus, alleviating my need to milk much. Thanks to all that good milk, the calf had plenty of energy to burn off running around in the grass.

When I did a 'barn check' prior to turning out all the lights for the night, there was Emma chewing her cud and her calf by her side.

A BIG THANK YOU to everyone who has come out to support the Carlisle Central Farmers Market! Our stand continues to evolve. This week I was able to pick some red beets, tomatoes, chard and kale to take along. The hot items this week were our all-natural bratwursts, the Wallaby cheese from Keswick Creamery and the fresh pastured chickens from Otterbein Acres. Each week I have met many new people as well as learned to recognize the regulars. The market continues to grow and expand. Saturday hours have been extended an extra hour, plus there will be all sorts of special events taking place in November. On the 3rd, the Critical Mass Bike Race will end at the Farmers Market. On the 10th, there will be a Medieval Event, sponsored by the local SCA groups and on the 16th & 17th, there will be a Holiday Market in conjunction with the kickoff of Carlisle's Holiday Festivities. Hope to see you there!

The Learning Curve

While hand-milking a few goats is no big deal, I knew I'd require a little mechanical help when it came to a dairy animal with an udder the size of New Hampshire. A few years ago, my neighbor had given me an old Babson Surge Milking System, complete with vacuum pump and portable bucket. However, since he had milked his goats, too, with the bucket, the unit had been modified for two teats instead of four. At first, I thought I could get away with just doing the front quarter and then the hind quarter, but after cruising on eBay for a few weeks I came across a really nice unit at a reasonable price.

Another reason I was anxious to get the Surge Milker going was to further alleviate my chances of getting the snot kicked out of me. Trust me, you just don't go and start tweaking teats on a first time freshener without any argument. And goats don't kick no where as hard as cows do.

The first day of trying to milk Emma was frustrating for the both of us. She managed to knock off my glasses with her tail. By the time I was done, I had more milk on my clothing than in the bucket.

The Second Day
Realizing that Melanie, Ralph or Jessica won't always be around to help, I decided to tackle milking single-handedly. Getting a better idea for what's going on, Emma was much more agreeable today. Her calf had been nursing regularly and she knew what that giant thing between her hind legs was for now. Plus, to help reduce the swelling, I was also rubbing her swollen bag regularly with "Udder Comfort", a natural cream that contains Peppermint Oil, Tea Tree Oil, Menthol & Lanolin. I can't believe I paid more for cream to rub on my cow's udder than for something I'd put on my own face!
Every few hours, I'd go out and milk Emma. She would start off agitated, but when I whipped out the cream, she'd relax. We always ended on a good note, and by the afternoon she would just stand there without even being tied.

So by late afternoon, I was ready to fire up the Surge Milker. Everything was cleaned & sanitized. All I would have to do is hook up the regulator to the vacuum compressor, adjust the inflation rate and try to convince Emma that the alien contraption I was about to attach to her udder would not kill her. But when I went to plug in the compressor, I couldn't find the cord. Upon further inspection, I couldn't find the motor! And then it hit me. We had taken the motor off the compressor earlier this summer to use on the hay elevator.

So I'll be hand-milking until I can get to Tractor Supply and get a new motor. We've decided to dam-raise the calf so I really only have to milk out the right quarters since the calf prefers the left side and has been draining them herself.

Freaking Out
Around three-three thirty, the milk turned a strange color. It was watery and brown. Jessica said it looked like iced-coffee. Frantic, I called Melanie who was in Philadelphia with the Pennsylvania Farmstead & Artisan Cheese Alliance visiting White Dog Cafe, Reading Terminal Market and meeting with Jeffrey Roberts, author of Atlas of American Artisan Cheese, at DiBruno Brothers. It was a trip that I was supposed to be on, but with the calf's arrival, I knew there was no way I could swing it.

"Don't worry. It's just capillary bleeding and it's colostrum," she assured me. I'd seen plenty of colostrum, but never anything this dark. Maybe it's true that brown cows give brown milk.

Regular Raw Milk, Yesterday's Colostrum, Day Two Colostrum

While cleaning out the horse's stall next to the cow's stall, Emma laid down and took a nap, but when it was time to clean out her stall, she refused to get up. Panic-stricken, I called Melanie's mom, Susan, who has been milking for 30 years and is a walking encyclopedia about cows. If Emma wouldn't get up, she suggested calling the vet.

Twenty minutes later, Dr. Trent and his darling daughter arrived. The moment he pulled in, Emma stood up and began eating. "There's nothing wrong with her," he assured me. Her ears were warm, her heart rate and breathing normal. I showed him her milk. "That's colostrum from a Jersey. Don't you know that brown cows give brown milk?" I love my vet. He's got a great sense of humor.

Let the Milking Begin!

The radar indicated that the downpour this morning would pass so I settled into my upstairs office with a cup of coffee and caught up on the latest news about the fires in California from my friend, Anne, who lives in San Diego. Despite the rain, the rising sun shed enough light that when I looked out at the pasture I could see there were five cows instead of four and knew immediately that Emma had calved.

She wasn't due until Halloween and I figured I would put her in the barn three to five days prior to the 31st depending on the swelling of her udder and vulva. When I checked her last night at feeding, both were still fairly normal. I figured that this weekend I'd give the milking equipment a good cleaning and get everything set up. At least I had the foresight to buy the E. coli vaccine for calves yesterday on an impulse when I was at the local farm store.

But the calf was here now and I was all alone...Jess at school and Ralph in Texas...so I called Melanie, over at Keswick Creamery (where Emma came from). She's birthed out enough calves in her lifetime, that she can do it in her sleep. She was here within minutes and between the two of us, we got mother & baby into a nice dry and deeply bedded stall in the barn.

Our next task was to milk out about a pint into a calf bottle to feed along with the vaccine. Without the confines of a parlor, it was a chore that required both of us to complete. For the uninformed, cows (and goats & sheep for that matter) need to get used to being milked. Until they get the routine down, they put up a pretty good fight and fighting with a thousand-pound cow is a lot harder than with a goat or sheep.

Thanks to Select Sire's sexed semen, the calf is a heifer (female) out of 7JE590 Action.

Of course, after all this was done it quit raining.

Check Out Those Mammaries!

Ok, so I'm a little excited about the impending freshening of Jessica's heifer the end of this month. This shot is for you, Anne! Our breasts are nothing compared to these babies and they are only going to get bigger. So, just what am I planning to do with all that fresh, rich Jersey milk? Of course, I'm going to be making plenty of butter and some cheese, but we had four new additions to the farm today that will also get some of Emma's milk.
Keeping track of bull calves that all look the same is difficult so they always get a generic name. These guys are going to be Eenie, Meenie, Minie and Mo. The "mommy bucket" is back in action. For those of you who frequent our stand at the Carlisle Central Farmers Market, look for freshly made Bratwursts and premium cuts from these calves' predecessors. Remember, there's no hormones, antibiotics or guilt trip with our naturally & humanely raised veal.

Clipped Wings

We are often asked what's the difference between a heritage turkey and a regular turkey. Had anyone been visiting last night at dusk, they would have had first-hand experience.

Heritage turkeys can fly. Unlike commercial birds such as the Broad-breasted Bronze and White which have been bred to grow amazingly fast and develop oversized breasts to the point they are too heavy to fly or even naturally mate, heritage turkeys have smaller breasts and are still able to take to the air. This was becoming increasingly obvious last night as several birds hopped the fence when Jessica fed up her Farm Show goats in the pen next to theirs.

So Ralph and I had to do the duty. Clipping wings on small chickens and turkey poults isn't all that hard and I've done it by myself quite easily, but last night's task was definitely a two-person job. He would grab each bird by their legs, flip it upside down and I would clip their wings. Don't worry, there's no blood or mutilation involved...just a simple clipping. It was fairly easy to tell who had been clipped because I only removed the white-striped portions of their flight feathers.

Plenty of flapping, but no flying.

A Glorious Fall Day at the Farm

What a wonderful fall day it was today. The breeding does cleaned up a long strip on the back of the large pasture. Mr. Martin is still actively doing his thing. Miss Kitty, Truffle and Phyllis where on his hit list this afternoon. I'm anxious to see what Pumpkin Pie (belted doe below) throws out of the black headed buck. She's 75% Boer, as is the majority of the breeding herd at this time.
The turkeys are getting big and gobbling up a storm. I'll miss them after Thanksgiving.

Miss Bango checking out the scenery out of her stall door in the barn. She's turned out most of the day in one of the pastures.

These are the young does turned out on what I consider "fresh pasture" although most farmers would have a coronary if their pastures were as weedy as mine! Actually, this is a typical browse pasture. I was browsed in June and this is secondary growth. A really good browse pasture is one you can't see through. I've found that when I run the goats on thick browse, they gain faster and carry a minimal parasite load.