Faith's Kids: Class of 2012

Gustav and Gypsy, Class of 2012

It’s a Boy!  And a Girl!

I can’t begin to tell you how long I was waiting for those words, or something similar.

 For the past two years, my pretty Nubian goat, Faith, has been a picky breeder.  The first year on the farm (three years ago), she declined the buck’s invitation and gave herself the season off.  I could live with that; after all, she had just arrived at the farm and needed to adjust to life with Toggenburgs, having come from a purely Nubian environment.  I chalked her reticence up to culture shock, and gave her the grace of a year off.

 Last year, in a fit of pique, I decided to return her to her birthplace to be bred by a registered buck for purebred babies.  In October, when the rest of our herd came into heat, we packed her into the backseat of the truck and gave her a lift to see her fella, a beautiful Nubian buck named Jolt Cola.  Well, Faith and Jolt enjoyed each other’s company for nearly a month before they consummated their relationship.  My girl apparently believes in long courtships.  Happily, her month-long date eventually resulted in the most beautiful triplets you’ve ever seen; two girls and a boy, all born toward the end of the three week long March birthing period at the farm.  The fees associated with her breeding and upkeep during that time really stacked up, though the babies were adorable.  She was a terrible mother though, having never experienced the joys of nursing her own babies; the one she had before coming to the farm was taken as a bottle baby.

Fiona and Fauni Dell (Class of 2011, Bottle Babies)

This year, we’re planning on sending Miss Faith to live with a dear friend in Virginia in a month or two; my life circumstances are changing, and I won’t be able to spend as much time on the farm as I did in the past.  She was a mediocre milker last year, and her newest babies were destined to stay on the farm, though last year’s Nubian kids will join her in Virginia.  Since the farm is a dairy farm in addition to being an agricultural education center, we chose to breed her to one of the house bucks, an award winning Toggenburg whose daughters have superior udders.  Well.  Faith had different ideas.

Once again, Miss Faith played hard-to get for nearly a month.  The day before the bucks were removed from the breeding pasture, she finally succumbed to one of the boy’s charms; I suspect her courtship required dinner and dancing before he could be successful.  Miss Faith is the barn diva, after all.  She’s special.  With her Nubian intelligence and charm, she is fully aware of her feminine wiles and powers of persuasion.  Apparently Herve (or George, we’re not sure) was persuasive in his own right, because Faith finally ended up pregnant. 

 Twenty goats delivered before her.  Twins, triplets; the place was overrun with playful kids, milky mommas, and happy visitors.  Faith stayed pregnant.  The last Toggenburg delivered a week ago; Faith was too round to sleep well anymore, groaning when she breathed.  Her knees began to click.  She gave me the stink eye whenever I lifted her tail.  Everyone who came to visit gave her a pep-talk: “What are you waiting for, Faith?  Squeeeeezzzzzeeeee!”  She held out.  A Diva, even gravidly pregnant. 

Yesterday was the first day I milked the goats this year.  The boys had gone to market, a difficult day for everyone, and the new season of milking began.  It was a good feeling though, spending time with my girls again. My body ached from being out of practice, but even so, the warm round bellies and happy munching of grain brought back sweet memories.  I mourned Daisy, who we lost after a difficult delivery.  I brought Faith to the stand for some grain (and practice), even though she wasn’t showing any sign of giving birth.  Another pep-talk ensued.

Daisy

When I was finished, I had about an hour between milking and the beginning of our monthly board meeting, so I went out for a burger and a beer, and returned to the farm.  No dice.  Faith chewed her cud and smiled like the Mona Lisa.  I went to the meeting.

 A few hours later, on my way out, I stopped by for one last look, and there it was: the first tell-tale mucous.  Kathy checked her out, and proclaimed an imminent birth, so we waited…and waited.  I tried to nap in her guest room.  Couldn’t do it.  Went outside to check on her, and found Julie, another board member, sitting in the birthing stall with her.  I sacked out in the stall awhile; nothing.  Julie and I watched her vulva like nervous aunties.

Finally, at midnight, with my 5:30 am wake-up time looming and Faith looking inscrutable, I gave up and headed home.  Kathy was sleeping next to the baby monitor, and Faith wasn’t cooperating.  I needed to sleep. It was so hard to leave, but I knew she was in the best hands; Kathy is an experienced dairy woman and a human midwife.  Who better to assist the Baroness of the Barn?

 Well, on the way to school this morning, I got the call: a baby boy had been born!  Faith was cleaning him.  All was well.    NURSING?  Miss Faith, the Diva, must have learned a thing or two from her herd-mates.  10 more minutes, and her daughter was born with a little help from Kathy.  The calls kept coming until my first class arrived, and all was well. 

Faith, the Prettiest Girl in the Barn, has found her maternal side; it becomes her.

Welcome Spring!

It may seem a little early, but with the birth of most of our kids, the onset of warm weather, and my first wild-foraged dinner, it surely feels like spring is here!

Mom as Theme Park

About a day or two after birth, the kids begin trying out their equipment; they leap, cavort, dance, and climb.  Mom's back becomes a playground.

Sleepy Twins

Which results in sleepy babies.  Naps are as frequent as play periods for the first week or so.

A Pile of Kids

And everyone cuddles together in a big, warm pile.  The moms enjoy these breaks in nursing.

Sleepy Babies

I never get tired of fuzzy, sleepy, well fed kids!

Spring kids and spring greens come at the same time.  Nature has it all figured out. In the wild, those babies and mommas would benefit from the natural goodness of the greens. They'll be outdoors enjoying spring soon!  In the mean time, I'm enjoying the bounty.

The Easy Gleanings

Today's short walk yielded garlic mustard, chickweed, stinging nettle, dead nettle, mint, wild onion, some oregano that returned to my garden from last year, and dandelion.

Salad Greens

The stinging nettle and some garlic mustard went into the saute pan, but the chickweed and other raw greens were reserved for the salad.

Sauteed Chicken and Nettles

I started by sautéing some clean bacon, which I removed once brown.  Next, I added half of a chicken breast, cut into chunks.  When it was almost done, I added the damp nettles, chopped wild onion, and some garlic mustard.  I cooked until tender, then finished with some slivered preserved lemons, salt and pepper, as well as the bacon pieces.  This made 2 generous servings.

Natural Chopped Salad

The rest of the greens were chopped, then tossed with preserved lemon, golden raisins and a little blue cheese, as well as two or three crumbled bacon pieces.  Dressing wasn't necessary.  This also made two generous servings (and I have leftover garlic mustard!).  

I could just feel the energy returning to my sleepy winter soul after dinner, and when I finally went to bed, I slept with the window open, and more soundly that I have in weeks.  

Nature is good for us.  Body AND soul.

I'm back!

Fiona and Fauni Dell

Fall is nearly here, and with it, some time for reflection.  I'll be posting again soon.  In the mean time, check out how much the girls have grown!  They're still BFFs, as you can see.  Inseparable.

I'll post an actual update tomorrow.

Fauni Dell

This afternoon, after I finished milking the 24 Flint Hill Goaty-Babes, I decided to visit with the kids awhile.  They were sleepy and adorable, and all too ready to socialize. Frank has grown a bit aloof, though he still comes for a nose scratch if he sees his sisters talking with me.  Fiona is vocal and opinionated; she has a pouty sort of call that reminds me so much of her mother, my first goat (this time around!) Faith.  Fairly (our adopted daughter, the only Toggenberg in my familial herd) always comes to me for a cuddle and a suck on my fingers, though last time, she chomped down and drew blood, so she's officially finger weaned.  She was always such a frantic nurser; perhaps because I had to tube her to bring her back to life after her mother abandoned her.  One doesn't forget that feeling of starvation.  Ever.

And then there's Miss Fauni Dell.  Fauni was the middle birth of Faith's triplets, and I had given her up for dead.  She presented sideways, and Kathy pulled her that way after trying everything else she could (after I did the same).  Little Fauni's head turned to the side as she was born, and we feared the worst; I had given Kathy the go ahead to just pull her to save Faith's life.  I thought she'd have a broken neck; but she was small, and had no permanent injuries.  She slept with her head to that same side for the first few weeks of her life ( I bottle fed the triplets and little Fairly), but she was up and running with her sibs in record time.  And now she thinks I'm her Mama.

Fauni came out to play awhile tonight.  I brought her out of the kids' stall (they stayed in because of the heat today), and put her on the ground for a few minutes.  I stepped away, and she followed me.  I took 5 steps, and she followed me more.  Then we sat in the hammock, watered the garden, walked down to her goat-Mama's stall, and she followed me.  Talking the entire time. Maaaa.  Conversational.

We both heard Fiona complaining back in the kids' stall.  Fauni even answered her a few times.  I'm wondering if my little herd will follow me en masse; that's a game I'll attempt to play later this week, when I'm ready to videotape them. :::::LIVE UPDATE::::: CLICK HERE

Until then, I'm happy to be much loved by my little Fauni Dell, the wonder goat; our little miracle, who has Much To Do.  And I'm hoping that by the time she's ready to be a Mama herself, I'll have a place of my own to keep her in, and I can know her family even better that I know her.  My sweet little girl, who Was Meant To Be.

Fauni Dell Attends Her First Opening

I know I don't usually blog about my school functions, but I'm going to bend my rules just a bit today.  Today was the opening of our annual school art show, which is a community and school event held at a local historical site, the Heller Homestead.  I've drawn the homestead; my notecards serve as a fundraiser for framing our students' work.  If I can locate a scan of the art, I'll insert it later.

There were several other events going on today; there was a craft show, a flower/plant sale, food, and a Civil War encampment.  I thought that a little goatie girl would be a perfectly fine addition to the hoo-ha, so I bundled her into the S-10, and away we went.

Fauni and a Friend

Miss Fauni Dell was a debutante. Everyone loved her, from the moment we arrived.  Students were happy to hold her, and she climbed on several of them.  One little boy said he just LOVED goats (I know how he feels!).  Several adults shared stories, and spent time stroking her.  Between grass sampling sessions and snuzzles, Miss Fauni Dell sat calmly in my lap and chewed her little baby cud happily, ever the lady. We even found a woman who had a little herd who came from Fauni's parents' herd!  Small world! Cousins!

The local digital press was there.  If we become overnight sensations, I'll update; but if not, all I can say is that today, I "let my freak flag fly" so to speak.  And it made me so happy.

:::::::::::::NEWS FLASH:::::::::::

Fauni Dell Made the News!  Hellertown Patch: Read All
About It!

I'm not a fancy dresser; I don't use makeup, or wear heels, or color my hair.  I don't care if you do...I just don't understand why people do it, so I don't.  My colleagues do.  I'm an island.  I'm OK with that.

I let the guilt go today, and dressed my way, and brought my goat.  I feel whole.  Good day. I'll sleep soundly tonight.

The Lower 40....(feet)

I am an Urban Homesteader.  Here's the urban part:  my yard. 

In your mind, splice these together.  That's my yard.



And then the shared side yard:

No, that's not snow: it's Bradley Pear blossoms, imitating snow!
And Pierre off on an adventure.

Yes, it's small...but mighty.  Here's what I have planted.

Clockwise from where I'm now sitting at the picnic table, starting with the porch container: sage, thyme, rosemary. oregano, tomato starts, broccoli start, lavendar, cherry tomatoes, spinach, passion flower, comfrey, tansy, basil, mesclun lettuce, red tipped lettuce, radishes, lemon grass, kale, heirloom yellow pear tomatoes, chrysanthemums, chamomile, hosta, ferns, lemon balm, cleavers, red cap mushrooms, shiitake mushrooms, maiitake mushrooms, oyster mushrooms, reishi mushrooms, horseradish, collard greens, sweet peas, loofah vine, garlic, parsley, tarragon, more herbs already mentioned, turban squash, butternut squash, pattypan squash, strawberries, rhubarb, sweet woodruff, feverfew, spearmint, more kale, moon flower, Jerusalem artichokes, possibly elderberry (don't know if they made it), clematis, peppermint, more strawberries, 3 cans of potatoes, wisteria, pennyroyal, chocolate mint, Clio dandelion, purslane, pineapple mint, ginger mint, chives, lemon thyme, buttercrunch lettuce, small pie pumpkins, (we're heading down the narrows now) more redcap mushrooms, asparagus, upland cress, beebalm, butterfly bush...and I'm sure I forgot some.  The three trees are ornamental, but they attract birds, who eat the bugs, and provide shade in the summer, so I'll keep them.  I've removed a few that were crowding these.  I do miss the two paper birch trees we had in the back; the Japanese beetles got them in their entirety a few years ago, and they died, so they had to be removed.

Herbs and Compost Bucket on my Grill-prep Island

Feverfew Run Amok..Mint, Kale, Moon Flower, Jerusalem Artichokes
Trumpet Vine, Clematis

Potatoes and Clio Bed

Aromatic Mints and Medicinal Herbs

The Container Garden

Mushroom Logs, Redcap Bed, Horseradish and Butternut Squash, Culinary Herbs at Base

The View from the Alley

Frankie and Pierre

I just wish we could bring the kids home.  But we can't. And that's what puts the ban in urban. Unless you're really sneaky, and they're really small. And it's too cold in the barn for the babies ;)

The Herd, a Month or So Ago.  Time Flies.

And that's all she wrote.

Making My Mark

The concept of mark-making may have different meanings to some of my colleagues than others.  As an artist, mark-making refers to the visual representation of our particular chosen medium; now that I think of it, that may be a very good definition for anyone considering what it means to "make their mark".

For instance, I spent a good part of my day doing research for my (ultimate) graduate thesis.  That'll be a significant mark made in my life, as it will culminate one more educational life-experience and open the doors to others.  My particular research is focused upon the place a member of my extended family holds in history, so it has particular meaning to me; I feel the importance of doing this research and writing correctly.  Research and writing are my medium of choice in this instance.

Of course, teaching is a long-term process of mark-making; we teachers have the opportunity to affect so many lives!  Though I don't comment upon my teaching profession in this blog, it's very important to me, and the impact I have on the kids who need me gives me a feeling of great worth (right next to a feeling of great humility).  Though our government apparently doesn't share my sentiments, my intrinsic understanding of the impact one teacher can have on the life of a student at the right time, and under the right circumstances is obvious to me.  I lived it myself, both as a student, and as a teacher.  In that case, my media are pedagogy, artistic knowledge, and compassion.

What I do share with you is my garden: another place where I can coax my little seeds to grow.  It's springtime, and yesterday was the first solidly sunny and warm Saturday we've had this year.  My media are soil, labor, tools and seeds, and the mark I make will feed us throughout the coming seasons, and will provide a source of inspiration and thoughtfulness to me throughout the year.

A Blank Canvas

Like any work of art, we begin with a blank canvas.  We can control the quality of our canvas, and the craftsmanship we use, but there is always a beginning, a middle, and an end.  This wheel-barrel received a generous helping of well-composted horse manure this year.  A good canvas for the kale that will grow there soon.

Planning Ahead: Asparagus

This tiny asparagus shoot is the result of the planting I did last year.  As a second-year sprout, it's thin and small.  Each year will add girth and fecundity.  Some projects take longer than others, but they're usually worth the wait. There's nothing quite as good as asparagus.

Redcap Bed


Another bed that will take some patience is the hosta redcap bed I started this spring.  If I planned it correctly, I should have a harvest by fall.  As a lover of all things mushroomy, I have high hopes for this culinary masterpiece.  My work here is mostly done; the shade provided by the ornamental pear trees and hostas should allow the little fungi to do their thing.  I have such a tiny garden at home; the shade and ornamental shade-loving plants weren't pulling their weight.

The End of an Era


The whiskey barrel you see behind the plastic planter, has literally disintegrated.  It is currently the home of several garlic bulbs that I planted last fall, and as such will limp along until they're harvested.  In the meantime, both it and the new planter have been sewn with spinach, an early season crop.  When both the garlic and spinach are harvested, the whiskey barrel will also be harvested, and its soil used elsewhere.  This year's cherry tomatoes, a back-door favorite, will live in the new planter, complete with new, composted soil.  I expect a great harvest, based upon the harvest enjoyed by my friend Stephanie (who gave me the compost!).  The lavender plants, in the small pots beside it, are already showing signs of life.

Horseradish

One of my three remaining barrels is home to this year's horseradish shoots, which I'll be excited to watch grow.  I expect to companion plant some collards or chard with them as well, as this is a shady space.  The base of the barrel (and those next to it) have become my outdoor culinary herb area.  I started some thyme, parsley and sage today.  The rosemary is still indoors.  My medicinal herbs are primarily perennial; the various mints grow enthusiastically wherever I start them; the others (too many to name) are tucked in among the vegetables and trees.

Mint: A Fragrant Opportunist

Herbs are naturally enthusiastic.  I love that about them.  They're the street-kids of the plant world, and manage to thrive where they land.  I've placed several varieties right next to my picnic table, so I can enjoy them when I have my infrequent moments of repose in the yard.  Speaking of repose:



The Captain's Chair



And I'm the captain.  The third barrel is to the left, rear of my vintage lawn chair (salvaged from a curbside on trash day a few years ago). Strawberries grow around the barrel's base.  The white lattice behind it still supports an ornamental vine that hides my "lower 40"...a narrow alley between the hedge and the shed, where my scraps go.  There are two hostas that are sprouting behind the chair, and to the right of it, a clump of feverfew is getting a good start.  You can't see it, but it's flanked by lemon balm and spearmint.  And there's a rhubarb plant somewhere in there.

My husband constructed the planter from an old door two years ago, and after several false starts, I finally got a trumpet vine started in the right corner of it.  I have a few Jerusalem artichokes planted there (if the squirrels didn't get them), and some elderberries from last year.  Yes, I know they'll be big.  It's an experiment.  Though you can barely see it, there's an antique bell above the bed: a nod to my in-laws, who had it at their home in Oyster Bay, and used it to call Peter and his sister in from the woods.  What a life!

Stinging Nettle

There are those plants which shouldn't be cultivated in close spaces; one shouldn't attempt to raise a mustang or a tiger in the city.  So, in honor of those wild things that defy my intensive attempts at an urban masterpiece, I've included my new culinary addition for the spring: stinging nettle.  She grows nearby, and waits for me there.  I've decided to let her roam free; I'll come to her.  The story of our first cooking experience (I've dried her for tea) will follow shortly.

Spring commences; our most creative time.  We plant the seeds for a prosperous tomorrow, and if we're wise, we enjoy the work as much as the harvest.  We observe the growth, and it makes us smile...and hope.  Like a painting; like a student; like a garden.  Welcome, spring!

Faith's Kids

Our Last Week at Home

Fauni, Exploring Crafts-Making Materials

Cleaning Up

Fairly Snoozing in Maaam's Hand

Snuzzling

Checking the Mail

Bliss

Once Inside...

This Tool Saves Lives!

        Continued from "Old Dog...":

        When I arrived, Peter had a warm bottle of milk waiting, and a heating pad all ready to go.  Our frigid little kid was still unresponsive, so I laid her in with our Nubians while I loaded up the syringe and got myself settled. With a heating pad and towel on my lap, I tremulously tubed our kid and hoped for the best.  Peter slowly pushed in 60 mL of warm milk, and we removed the tube...and waited.  Nothing. Her head lolled to the side, eyes open, but her heart was beating strongly, and she was breathing evenly.  We had done what we could.

       The next thing to do was to warm her up.  Her little feet were still as cold as ice, so I tucked them up under her, and held her limp little body to my chest, with the heating pad as a blanket.  When I got too warm, I removed it, and used a sheep skin instead.  After about a half hour, she felt warmer, so I tucked her up with our "herd" (the remaining two Nubian doelings and a premature Togg), who all snuggled in close, to keep her warm.  Instinct is a wonderful thing.  I let them rest together; after an hour or so, I checked her rear hooves, and found them warm to the touch. I tubed another 30 mL into her little tummy, fed the three tiny girls, then replaced  them all in the pen for goaty comfort.  A few quiet hours went by.

Little Goaties Warming Up a New Friend

      She gazed off into a world no one else could see, while she waited for that milk to enliven her.  Her limp body lay on its side, and her open eyes were unresponsive, unfocused.  When I lifted her head, it fell listlessly to the play-pen's floor.  I have never seen a goat so weak; even the little baby we lost a week ago had better responses than this one, right up until the end.  I prayed my goaty prayers, then fed her a bit more milk before bed, just before midnight.  I tucked her in with the herd...and though I hoped for the best, I feared the worst.

  At 2:30 AM, I woke to the alarm, and stumbled downstairs, scared of what I might find.  Much to my surprise, she was sitting up when I looked in on her, not laying listlessly on her side like the night before.  I warmed her milk-replacer, and tried to get her to suck my finger; she fell over, so I tubed her and gave her 40 mL, a nice in-between number, I tucked her up with the little ones, and went back to bed.  It was so hard to sleep.

    6:00 AM: The alarm goes off, and I listen: no sounds.  I showered and dressed before going downstairs; I was afraid of what I'd find.  Peter woke more slowly, so I crept downstairs alone.

    Little ears...a fuzzy nose, and there she was, sitting up, alert; I peeked in and smiled; baby-style, she oogled up at me, head bobbing.  I crept away, happy.  She made it through the night...alert, whole, blossoming.  I tip-toed upstairs to Peter, and we hugged and smiled.

Fluffy and Fairly

   An hour later, during my first class, Peter emailed me a picture of her, frolicking on the floor with the rest of the "herd"; all four in infant-sized pampers, all four frisky and jolly.  He called her "Fluffy". He told me she had taken a bottle right away; all she needed was the strength, and that's what we had given her during the night: some heat, some nourishment, some goaty warmth.  She fell asleep on the first step to the second floor, after playing tag with her new friends.

     We are blessed by being allowed to share in the lives of our animals; we benefit by knowing them, by helping them, and by coming closer to our source through them.  This little kid will make it;  balance to the one we lost.  And once again, life perseveres.