the lulu board

When my brother-in-law arrived for Thanksgiving dinner, he handed me the most incredible gift. And on Friday, he came with Evie to make pinecones and enjoy the walk to see the hogs, but he ended up spending most of the visit putting the finishing touch on his gift to me. Here we have the hands of an artist, a sculptor, a fine furniture maker. Someone we're so very blessed to call Family.

Here she is - The Lulu Board!

Modeled from this photo of the Hog-Muse herself, our sow Lulu.

And she's engraved, too. Just in case we forget who and when.

But I think it goes without saying that we will never forget. Thank you, John, for this most incredible of handmade gifts. If The Lulu Board would make the perfect gift for someone you love, she is available by special order. Please contact John through his website.

My personal, original Lulu Board is, of course, not for sale.

not so ordinary after all

So there is some sort of universal law that says when you declare a day to be ordinary before 8:00 in the morning, it will turn out to be anything but an ordinary day. And so it was this past Friday, the day I said would be "just another day on the farm". Not ten minutes after publishing that post, Craig walked in the door from doing chores, and we had the following conversation:  

Craig: How many roosters do we have?  

Me: Three. Why? 

Craig: Because there are four roosters out there this morning. You better be careful what you blog about!

Indeed. Just two days after writing about the dropped-off pullets we discovered in the barn last year, and someone drops off a rooster. Now, for anyone who knows anything about chickens, you will know that it is not the brightest idea to just fling a new rooster into an established flock with three roosters. I failed to mention that last year's dropped-off pullets came with a rooster. He was a handsome guy, and he was killed by our resident roosters within a few hours of his arrival. This new rooster is still alive, but after some feathers-flying, spur-weilding cockfights, he has been banished from the flock and is now living by himself, across the road from the coop, roosting in the trees at night. So, you Dropper-Offer you, not such a brilliant idea. Perhaps this is purely coincidental.  Perhaps not.

Anyway, I digress. I'm not really that annoyed about the rooster (although I do feel sorry for him, but I think he'll assimilate eventually - in the meantime, I'll keep bringing him dishes of feed), I just find the entire concept of "dropping things off" completely mystifying. 

When I went outside to investigate, I found such a lovely scene. A group of our hens, busy scratching through the frosty leaves on the lawn in the light of the rising sun, completely oblivious to the male drama unfolding by the coop.   

A little later in the morning, we were joined by friends and family for a bit of outdoor, kid-friendly crafting. What a beautiful day! Perfect peanut-butter-birdseed-pinecone-making weather.

And perfect weather for our little group to take a farm walk to treat the hogs and horses to scraps and carrots . At the same time, Craig was giving a more formal farm tour to a large family who spit-roasted one of our pigs the day before for their Thanksgiving meal. It doesn't matter if people are country folks or city folks, everyone we've had here at the farm has dived in enthusiastically.  Sometimes people arrive in farm boots, and sometimes in really good shoes, but everything seems to even out in the end, and everyone is fascinated by the pigs.  Even Thatcher loves these farm walks, even though you might think they would bore him to tears.  I think he already feels what Craig and I experience when we have the pleasure of seeing our farm through fresh eyes.  

And Friday evening, Craig opened a letter that was delivered earlier in the day.  The envelope came from Animal Welfare Approved.  We just recently had our annual farm visit by one of their auditors, so I assumed the letter was notification that the inspector found everything AOK.  I was wrong.  It was a letter about the grant application we sent in, requesting funds to build a second mobile coop for the laying hens:

"Congratulations! Your proposal has been selected to receive funding through the Animal Welfare Approved Good Husbandry Grants Program. Having reviewed your application very carefully, we have awarded you a grant to fully fund your project."

Certainly not an ordinary day!

black, green or plaid - just another farm friday

This morning, I am still reveling in the spirit of Thanksgiving. I feel so blessed, by so many things, things both large and small. I'm blessed by the pink light of the rising sun glinting on the frost-covered hillside outside the windows, by my husband already out caring for our animals, and by my two children sleeping soundly upstairs, warm and cozy in their beds. Yesterday was a day of preparing, last night a night of feasting with family. And today? Today is just another day here on the farm. We have a group coming for a farm tour, a family who bought from us a pig to roast for their Thanksgiving dinner. Today, they'll come to visit the farm where their supper was born and raised. Today, we will prepare and deliver a feast of gratitude for all of our animals. Today, we will be here, at home, focusing on the simple pleasures offered up by friends, family and a farm.    

(And today, we might try again to take a successful family photo!..)

Wishing you & yours a Happy Thanksgiving.

got my ears on

Returning home from running errands yesterday, I found the house empty. I could hear the chainsaw running up the road, so I decided to investigate. Yup. The boys were out, making noise, chopping things up, as boys love to do. But at least they were being safe! As Thatcher gleefully told me, "Mama, I got my ears on!"

This is what my father-in-law's yard looks like, thanks to the October snow:

And this is what the poor tree looks like:

Have I properly introduced Tinker? Tinker is Craig's dog. Tinker is a one-man type of girl, and she misses Craig's bachelor life with every ounce of her doggy self. Those were the days of Craig & Tinker, period. No girlfriend (now a wife - are you kidding me? Does this mean she's staying??). No toddler pestering her (and now a baby, too?? Good grief!). Life was simple back in the day. (Indeed it was, Tinker!)

And the more Tinker expresses her complete disdain for the new members of her family, the more Thatcher wants to smother her with love. The fact that she allowed this hug is sort of a big deal.  

Back to work! This little farmer is such a big helper!

Firewood to the Gator, branches to the burn pile. Hey, what's that I see? Craig, did you put this here? Nope. Craig, did you recently back your truck across the lawn, leaving tracks the whole way? Nope. Hmmm...

When you have a farm on a quiet dirt road in the country, things just sort of turn up. Kittens turn up on the front porch (with dismaying regularity). Chickens turn up in the barn (I'm not complaining about the pullets someone dropped off one night last year - nice birds!). And dismantled cribs turn up in the burn pile.  

into the woods

Yesterday, Thatcher, Greta and I walked through the pasture, across two streams and three bogs, up into the woods.

(Correction: Thatcher and I walked.  Greta napped.)

We were on a quest to find Daddy, who was busy cutting up downed trees. It turned into a bit more of an adventure than I anticipated! While Craig could navigate these woods in his sleep, I have only been up to this spot once or twice.  So the directions "turn right at the brush pile past the cows, head up the old logging road, I'll be right there" sounded simple enough, but the reality was another story. After backtracking a few times (there are many brush piles, for one thing), I decided to follow the sound of the chainsaw instead. Thatcher did very well following me straight up the hill, climbing over logs and learning how to navigate clumps of brambles.  And we did find Daddy, so all was well.

After a while, Craig and the big orange tractor headed back to the farm, but we decided to stay.  Greta needed nursing, the air was warm and delicious, and these woods are filled with magical diversions.  We built the foundation for a fairy house. We collected pinecones. We learned about lichen and moss.

(A pretty typical exchange. This is what I call the Preemptive Scream.)

We practiced standing, beginner level.

And we practiced standing, advanced level.  

After a while, it was time to head home again. I've successfully taught Thatcher how to cross a bog by stepping from one grass clump to the next, testing each step for load-bearing capacity before fully committing. Now, if only I could follow my own instructions...

I often think to myself that if Thatcher is clean at the end of the day, it wasn't a good day. Yesterday, Mama and Thatcher both arrived home covered in mud, leaving a trail of filthy jeans and soaking-wet socks outside the front door. Yes. A very good day, indeed.

checking in with stella & sabrina

Remember Super Stella? The Wonder Sow with her 14 piglets?  All 14 are doing well, and are now about six weeks old. They look great! Sturdy, healthy, busy.

And curious. Always curious.

Maybe a bit hopeful? Got any treats for us?

This one piglet didn't give up hope. Come on - seriously, you must have something for me! Not this trip, little pig. But I have big plans for next Friday. Just you wait!

And I almost forgot to introduce our newest litter, born two weeks ago this Sunday to our sow Sabrina.

Shop's closed, kids. Now give me a moment's rest, will you please? No way Mama! We're just going to keep on pestering you, nibbling on your eye, biting your ear, until you roll over. We're hungry, can't you tell! Maybe even starving! Wah wah wah!

I know how you feel, Sabrina.  I'm a mother, too. 

I'm sorry, but I never get tired of looking at these little guys. Please let me know if I've overloaded you with piglet-love.

The Three Little Pigs.  No wonder so many stories are inspired by farm animals.  These three look like they're dreaming up their own adventures...

This makes a total of four litters currently in the farrowing area, still with their mothers.  Soon, these newest piglets will join the roving pack, racing to and fro and getting up to all sorts of mischief.  But they  always keep tabs on their Mamas.  Piglets never miss a feeding, that's for sure!

a farm walk

Yesterday, my sister and my niece came for a visit. It was raining when they arrived, so most of our time was spent indoors, with the kids playing together (finally! - side-by-side playing has evolved into interaction!) and sisters having a moment to catch up on all the usual sisterly things. When it came time for them to leave, the rain had stopped, and Evie reminded us about the promised and much anticipated walk to visit the animals.

Evie LOVES the animals - all of them! - but especially the horses. Where are they Auntie? Where are Elsa and Fritz? Keep going, sweet girl. They're waiting for you.

There they are! Hello Elsa! Hello Fritzy! (My sister said that Elsa looked senile. I said she's not senile, she's just sleeping. Poor old Elsa!) We spent a long time holding both kids up so they could touch Fritz's soft nose and rubbery lips. Elsa is far too crotchety to bother coming to the fence for affection. 

And then we walked down the road a ways to see the pigs. Here's Bertha, the next sow due to farrow. She's pretty close to her due date, and she's busy enjoying her last moments of peace and quiet before her piglets arrive. She was almost sound asleep here in the straw, and barely took notice of us at all.

Here we have Lex, Lulu and Luki, from front to back.  Luki is our Berkshire boar, and the daddy of Lex's piglets.

We have a whole bunch of piglets out here right now, and once again, several litters have formed a hysterical roving band of trouble makers.  See the piglets in the next photo?  They're actually in the pen with the boar, running as fast as their little legs will carry them! And squealing, too!  You should hear the noises they make...

Here's Luki - our belly rub loving puppy dog of a boar! 

Look at those faces!  Trouble.  Just a hint of what's to come, I'm sure.  And while a pitchfork is certainly not an appropriate toy for toddlers (which is what I'm pretty sure my sister was telling them when I took this picture), the fact is that Thatcher already knows how to use it, correctly.  He loves to help fork hay in for the hogs when he's doing chores with Dad.  (PS - Can you tell which of these children has a designer (fashion AND interior) for a mother??  Yes, Evie is always beautifully put-together.  Here, Thatcher is still in his mismatched pajamas, with his boots on the wrong feet.  Such is life here on the farm!)

Here is Lex with one of her stout little piglets.  She has a few runts in this litter, but they're holding their own with their bigger brothers and sisters.  We'll likely leave the runts with Lex for a week or two after the bigger piglets are weaned so they can benefit from decreased competition for milk and feed.

And here is Lulu!  What a shape!  She's a great-looking sow.  Such a classic Berkshire snout!

It is true, hogs are intelligent animals.  Just look at Lulu's face - she looks about ready to speak, don't you think?  The more time I spend with these animals - hogs, cows, chickens, horses - the more intelligent I think they all are.  And the more I think it is such a self-centered human fallacy to assume they aren't intelligent in the first place. These animals absolutely communicate with one another, and not just in simple ways.

They find ways to communicate with us, too, when we take a moment to listen.