If you watched one hour of television today...

...you could have gone fishing instead!

It's Fritter Time!

What I am about to write will make me look like a total idiot, embarrass me and make you wonder whether I should actually be keeping goats at all.  

But it also makes for a great story and really, that’s the point now, isn’t it?

Here is what happened.

Nacho was dehorned by Dr. Delaney at his office several weeks ago.  It went well, though his little horns were more developed than is typical for dehorning and so they took a little longer to scab over and fall off.  (We do not always dehorn goats.  However, his barnmate has no horns.  He is going to be bigger in size than she is and we did not want to give him an unfair advantage,and possibly create a dangerous situation for her, by leaving him “armed”.)  His little nubs were scabbed over and healing beautifully when he escaped. 

Seth burst into the kitchen screaming “Nacho is bleeding! It’s BAD.” 

What?!

Apparently nacho had practically met Seth at the door.  No telling how long he had been out.  And he was right, it WAS bad.

He looked like an extra in a cheap horror film.  Blood was running down his face, dripping off his little nose.  A flap of skin and hair was hanging over one eye.  And to add to the disturbing scene, he was frolicking. 

A bloody frolicking goat.  Sheesh. 

At least he didn’t seem to be in any pain.

While Seth occupied the bloody goat I sprang into action, grabbing a clean rag and my cheese shaker of cornstarch to staunch the bloodflow.  I keep an herbal anti-bacterial ointment in my milking supplies, so I was all set.

Nacho happily followed us into the barn where we discovered how he had come to be so badly injured. 

Just outside of his stall we found the cylindrical top portion of a chicken feeder.  The inside of it was smeared with blood.  Apparently our little friend had gotten his head stuck inside the feeder and torn open his tender horn buds fighting his way out. 

As Seth patched up the escape hatch in the stall, I put on my veterinary hat and got to work.  Wiping the blood away just upset him.  So I quit that, and just began to dump cornstarch liberally onto his head.  Typically, this will stop the bleeding almost instantaneously, but not this time.  He was really bleeding.  So I continued to sprinkle cornstarch out of the shaker onto his head, and my clothes, and the barn floor.  It seemed the more I shook, the more he bled. And to top it all off he kept running over to Francis, who kept licking his head!  Gross!

The poor little guy was starting to tire out and so I set my mostly empty container of corn starch on the fence rail and collapsed on the hay with him and let him curl up on my lap.  I thought if he settled down maybe the bleeding would slow down.  That cornstarch sure wasn’t working.

There I sat, worrying about baby boy and wondering what else I could do when I happened to glance up at that container of cornstarch. 

Funny, there was writing on it. 

Funny, it didn’t say corn starch. 

In big black letters, in my own handwriting it said “Powdered Sugar”.

Well, I am happy to report that we were able to stop the bleeding (and the head-licking) very quickly by applying actual corn-starch.  And except for a tiny scab over his eyebrow, (and copious amounts of blood on my work jacket),you would never know it happened.

Friends, do me a favor and learn from my mistakes. 

It will make me feel oh so much better.

Quick Milking Update

For the first couple of weeks I milked Francis seated criss-cross applesauce on the floor of the stall – me, not Francis.

This was not comfy and I couldn’t see what I was doing, but it was all she had ever known so it worked fine.

Then Tim built me a very nice stanchion, on which my goat refused to be milked.  She wouldn’t even go up there.  No way.  Now how.

Let me say right here that when you imagine adorable little goats prancing over rock and rill, climbing cute little playground structures, or clicking their heels in the spring air you are not imagining our Francis.  This is the least sure-footed, most cautious goat I have ever owned.  She was not about to step up onto that platform, let alone jump (heaven forbid).

We have since added a safety ramp and lots of friction tape to ease her mind.  And with plenty of grain in the bucket at the head of the stanchion I am happy to say that she (mostly) climbs right up each morning. 

BUT since she won’t jump off the thing either, she still has to be coaxed to turn around and walk down the ramp when we are finished.

Milking on the stanchion is much easier for me, so she will just have to get used to it.

For those of you wondering about the whole milking commitment, I would like to say it hasn’t been nearly as restrictive as we thought.  We can fudge about a half-hour each way without her showing any signs of discomfort.  That seems to allow us to pretty much work around anything we have going on. (Which pretty much tells you how much we have going on.)

She just needs to be milked every twelve hours.  I suppose if you were a night owl you could milk at noon and midnight. We milk at 6 and 6.   And so far the only thing that suffers is meal planning which is my fault, not the goat’s.  But longer days always mean later meals for us anyhow. So pretty soon that won’t be an issue at all.  (You know how it goes. You are weeding/picking/canning, your kid/husband/self looks up and says “I’m getting a little hungry.”  And you look at the clock to find that it is 8:30!)

Summer’s coming folks, I just wish it would hurry along a little.

Vegan Cannibals

Because we have laying hens, people often give us their used egg cartons.  I am grateful for them and can always use them.

We received one the other day that made me chuckle.  Then it made me think.  And after awhile I just got plain old irritated. 

Since part of the purpose of this blog is to educate, I thought I would use this egg carton as an object lesson in the insidious and (not so) subtle practice of food marketing (aka consumer gullibility).  And let me say right here that none of this company’s advertising is in any way misleading or dishonest – they count on consumer ignorance.  Let’s change that, shall we?

These particular eggs are of the “cage free” variety.  They are popular among the “wholelocalorganicnaturalgreenvegan” crowd.

Here is a portion of the label of the aforementioned carton.

Notice that these chickens eat an “all vegetarian diet”. 

Once, I visited a local artist camp.  It is well know for its eclectic assembly of residents, experimental art and really great food.  Current artists in residence take turns cooking in the outdoor kitchen using ingredients straight from the garden. 

When we had finished the wonderful meal we were instructed to scrape our vegetable scraps into one bin for the chickens to eat, and the meat bits into another waste container because “the chickens wouldn’t eat that”. 

Huh? 

There is nothing my Silver Laced Wyandottes love better than a nice juicy grub, or to pick the meat off of last night’s T-bone.  They eat corn, tomatoes, grass, cheese, pizza crust, and yes, leftover chicken. 

Friends, chickens are omnivores – cannibals even. 

I also want you to know what “cage free” means.  This does not mean free to range naturally.  It means they don’t live in cages. (Which, I will grant, is certainly better than living in a cage.) 

What does this have to do with being a vegetarian chicken?  If these hens were allowed to range naturally they could not be kept on a vegetarian diet because they would eat bugs and bugs are not vegetables.

The other problem I have with these eggs (among several more that I don’t have the time or energy to mention) is this:

Do you see how these things are packaged?!

Where do I even begin?

1)  How far do you plan on shipping those eggs?  Obviously they will be traveling way out of “Amish Country” if they need that kind of protection.

2) Even if you opt for a molded plastic contraption for shipping, do you really need the double-top option?   The egg is completely encased and there is another, more easily stackable, flat top to the carton. (It is opened up, out of the photo to the left.)

3)  There are two shiny paper inserts as well, containing nutrition info and recipes.  Paper and plastic all in one!

4)  These eggs cost two limbs. How much of that pays for the crazy package?

 (I do award a few points to the individual who passed this hefty plastic carton on to me.  If everyone who uses it after me passes it on, it will be in service for years.)

In my book, the (non-compostable) packaging here pretty much outweighs any perceived “benefit” of purchasing vegetarian cage-free Omega-enhanced eggs.

What am I trying to tell you exactly?  In this era of labels:  non-GMO, free range, cage-free, organic, natural, pastured, grass-fed, etc  Know your stuff.  Stop and think.  See past the pretty plastic container and the mesmerizing arrows turning in a circle. Don’t fall for the pseudo-green/pseudo-natural/pseudo-free marketing the same way we used to super-size a meal, just because somebody offered it. 

If you know something about food – how it is grown, where it comes from, who is marketing it and you still make the decision to purchase it then you won’t hear a word from me.

But keep this advice in mind:  Chickens are cannibals.

We now own a....

Dairy Goat!!!

Those of you who guessed that Francis would be finding a new home here were absolutely correct!

Bonita's baby boy came with her and the boys, in keeping with our history of naming meat animals after their eminent futures, renamed him Nacho.  (If I hear "Hey, that's Nacho goat!" one more time...)

I would also like to say that photographs are a luxury.  A luxury that is unattainable at 6:00 in the morning of the first morning you have ever milked your  goat in your entire life. 

It went well, for me.  The goat has the patience of Job, bless her heart.

But Ian and I are learning together and I am confident that before to long we will no longer be squirting milk up our sleeves and into our hair.

 Pretty soon we might even be able to hit the pail.

Some of you are great guessers! 

Some of you are not.

And some of you are in the know - thank you for not spoiling it Merry!

Either way, you will have to wait just a little while longer to findout what lies on the horizon.

In the meantime, take a look at what else you can do if you aren't spending significant amounts of time watching  NetFlix, television or anything else that requires being glued to a screen.  (The irony of that statement is not lost on me.  This post will be short, allowing you to return to Real Life shortly.)