Mysterious happenings

Well, I thought I would post at least once a week, and I see that I'm a bit behind. But who isn't? Our garden is especially on the late end, we've just started planting. As of now, it would appear that we only grow tomatoes, peppers, tomatoes, eggplants, onions, and tomatoes. Did I mention tomatoes? So many tomatoes. I love the smell of tomato plants, but it's a bit overwhelming.

Some strange things have been happening on the farm lately. This past week we had a few calves, all of which were born healthy and happy. All pretty normal, lovely little black Angus calves. Except...

Yep. Did I mention we breed BLACK Angus? Or that his mama is entirely BLACK? That last summer we used a top-notch BLACK Angus bull? That there is no way this little boy could be anything but BLACK? I digress. But we have our theories. Perhaps a lonely wayward dairy bull might have wandered over without us noticing. Or maybe this is just one of those crazy one-in-a-gazillion genetic flukes. I mean, he's not even black and white. He's red and white. That's just insulting.

Then there's the raccoons. There have been no less than four raccoon encounters this week, and we know there are more prowling around. Is it raccoon mating season or something? Because they've been out full force and grabbing our chickens like we're a fast food drive-through. We're missing four turkeys and one little piglet. I'm not sure if raccoons are the most likely culprit, but the disappearances have happened smackdab in the middle of the raccoon invasion. Raccoons have always creeped me out a little bit, anyways. They look at like they're reading your mind, like they know all your secrets. And their hands - so slender yet tactile, kind of the way I imagine Professor Snape's hands in Harry Potter. They give me the shivers.

Chill out. I just made an HP reference, the world isn't ending. Yes, I am fully aware that I am a nerd, and an immature one at that.

Okay, anyways - here's the weirdest thing to top it off. After a fitful night of raccoon chasing, I woke up at 4 am to the smell of woodsmoke, like from a campfire. Of course, my first thought was that the barn was on fire. So, naturally, my first action was to reach over, grab my phone, text my dad (who was downstairs) "hey dad, it smells like smoke up here", and then roll over and go back to sleep. I don't think I'm much of a candidate for firefighting.

I got up at again at five to go riding and it still smelled like smoke, and there was a thick, smoky haze covering the sunrise. And the horses were a little on the nervous side, snorting and looking around like something was going to pop out at them. When I got back to the house for breakfast I found out that all this haze is smoke, blown down from forest fires in Quebec. The horses must have thought it was headed straight towards us. And the other animals are ansty as well.
The cows are restless, and the bees are piling up and honey in defense mode. When we work with beehives, we actually use smoke to make them cluster in the hive for easier transport and handling, because they start "packing up" in case a forest fire were to reach the hive. So today is a perfect day to work bees - they're already settled! The downside is they might think the forest fire really is on its way, in which case they'll pack up and then move out. But the wind is blowing the smoke away, so hopefully we don't need to worry. I took the above photo of Mom in the beehives this morning. All that haze is smoke. Insane.

'Til next time, lovies.
Chauntel

P.S. We just slaughtered a batch of chickens this weekend. Pick 'em up at the farmstand - they go fast! ...and save one for me. I'm thinking some fresh fennel chicken...yummy.

College is a two-semester vacation

Hi, everyone. For those of you who don't know, I am the full-time farmhand for the summer. When this was initially dreamed up, my first thought was this is great - I can make my own hours.

Oh, silly, naive little me.

I'd totally make my own hours if I had any. They're all consumed by precariously pregnant cows, the bottomless appetites of piglets and meat chickens, and, of course, the cannibalistic batch of turkey chicks. And my garden! It's not even planted and I already weed like I'm committing mass herbicide. I get up at six (read: I attempt to arise at six, and fail miserably) and don't hit the sack until around eleven. I try to go to bed around 9:30, but my parents are full-on partiers and sucker me into watching The Closer. To top that off, my dog wakes me up around 4 or 5 times to go out, and the turkey chicks I managed to rescue are in my bathroom and peep rather loudly and consistently thorughout the night.

Fortunately enough, I love it, so I'll happily suffer. As for farm updates...it's calving season, but there seems to be a lull in the "they're popping left and right!" hysteria. There are a gazillion chicks in the nursery wing of the barn. Well, not a gazillion. But fairly close. I can't wait until they feather out and can go outside. There are piglets in the barn too, and they need to be out enjoying the fresh grass and sunshine. I just have to find them a shady spot because they're mostly pink skinned, and I, of all people, can thoroughly appreciate shelter from the sun.

I'll be putting out flyers fairly soon. Also, please come by the farmstand and pick up some eggs. I think I wash and pack a gazillion eggs a day. Well, not a gazillion. But fairly close.

Chauntel

Weeding strawberries requires donning a suitably intense facial expression, so that persistent non-strawberry species may be frightened away from your zealously guarded raised beds.

This time of year, everyone's a spring chicken

Pedro posing for the camera. In just a few weeks, the grass popped green with grass - it must have been that very last snowfall.

Some brand new Jumbo Cornish cross chicks. They grow very quickly, and will be ready to slaughter at about 6-10 weeks of age. Our chickens go fast, so stop by the farmstand and get 'em while you can!

Fast growing mallard ducklings - they fill the barnyard & ponds with what we like to call a "joyful noise"!

Newton, Veronica, Contessa, and their lambs Violette and Cecelia.

Ma mère magnifique and a very vivacious Violette!

Chauntel + Linda

A mini-album for everyone

These are pictures Quint and I took last summer of the back forty. They give some hope that summer will be here...eventually. It did, after all, snow two inches on Tuesday.






Oh, and one more thing - Mom sent this picture to my e-mail, it looks like one of the first calves of the year? I'm not sure. She can fill you in. All I can say is that it looks like either the fuzzy one is a hefty baby or Dad wasn't expecting his picture being taken.



Enjoy!
Chauntel