Days Off on the Farm

Okay, arguably there are no days off on a farm.  Regardless of the day, the chickens must be fed, the fire must be chopped, the various waterers freed of their icy prisons, and so on.  But when you're a small urban concern with two "regular" jobs that pay for your farming, days off can be key.  Today is New Years Eve and, thankfully, both my and my wife's employers have given us today off in lieu of the First, which is a Saturday. 

So, what to do?  Do we run to the movies?  Enjoy time in a park?  Go on a drive?  Nah.  Today is groceries, and feeding animals, and stoking the fire, organizing the kitchen for the coming candle making rush, and making appetizers for our neighbor's party tonight.  And yet, the pressure to go to our 9-5's is not there, making these common tasks more enjoyable.

Wherever you are and however you will spend the holiday, we at Odd Ducks Farm wish you a Happy New Year.  For us, it's more work but we love it.

Hibernating Or Simply Somnambulant?

Is it possible that people hibernate?  Or am I just lazy?  It's exceedingly difficult to tell whenever winter really damps down our activity as it has this week.  Snow has been falling for the last two days and even though we're snug and warm inside (with a good fire going, I assure you) I still find it hard to get up and do anything around the house.

It could simply be the lull between Christmas and New Years, leading us to rest and recuperate before everything starts up again (we have at least two parties to go to this weekend) or it could be the lack of sunlight.  Either way, I want to get up off my butt and do something, but the moment I stand up I can feel my will ebbing slowly away. 

Tomorrow is water/food day for the chickens.  The thought of roving bands of renegade chickens should motivate me to get off my but for at least that much work.  Nobody wants to face a hungry chicken in 18 degree weather, least of all me.

Searching, Always Searching

It's been a long time since we've made candles in any quantity and for any purpose other than home use.  We forgot the intense amount of trial and error, between the selection of the right containers, the right colors, the right fragrances, and - most daunting of all - the correct choice of wick.  There are just so darn many variables!

That being said, we have decided on our first ten scents we will offer.  They are:

Winter Spruce
Blueberry Cheesecake
Cedarwood Vanilla
Fresh Cotton
Cranberry Marmalade
Garden Rose
Spiced Pomegranate
Pumpkin Cream Souffle
Sugar Cookie
Wildberries and Cream

A Confluence of Potential Motion

I woke this morning, groggy after the holiday, and let the dogs out to pee as usual.  As I was about to bring them back in, I heard a terrific crash outside and much barking from our little Queensland heeler.  I rushed outside to find that she had wedged herself behind the woodpile and succeeded, with all 30 of her pounds, to push the pile over into the snow.

And I had just finished stacking all that wood a few days earlier.

Needless to say, she spent the morning cowering in the corner, sure of her impending doom, while I went about my day.  It wasn’t until just now that I was able to go out and survey the damage.

As it turns out, I’m glad I didn’t come down too hard on her.  The frozen ground, suitably strong to hold up the wood for the weekend, had thawed to the point that the rack broke through the frozen crust, causing the whole pile to pitch over into the yard.  Our poor dog was merely the straw that broke the camel’s back on this one.

I am back inside now, having just spent the last hour paying for my own mistakes.  I placed thin boards under each narrow foot, hoping that the frozen ground would hold better with the weight spread out a bit.  With the coming sub-freezing temperatures and up to a foot of snow, I think we’ll be okay for a while.

Why is so much of homesteading a two steps forward one step back proposition?

Warm Fires and Warm Hearts

I hope all of you had as good a Christmas as we did.  The kids' appetite for new playthings is well sated, our larders are more full than they were prior, and we're all nestled before the fire enjoying the warmth from the hearth inside and the blowing winds outside.  Light a fire, pour a good mug of 'nog, and enjoy the last few hours of the Christmas weekend.  Cheers!

Warmth in Wood

We have, in our current home, a wonderful brick fireplace that can keep the main floor of the house toasty for hours, even after the fire is out.  However, being an urban farm means that wood can be expensive or downright hard to come by.  Not so anymore.  Our friends put us on to a wonderful farm in Idaho, Blacksmith Farms, that sells firewood and home logs for good prices (including delivery). 

We had to wait a few weeks, this being winter and all, but two days ago a beautiful load of wood was dumped unceremoniously in our driveway.  It took me both afternoons since then to stack it all neatly in the backyard, but boy was the work worth it. 

I’m tired, I’m sore, but for those two afternoons I was definitely warm – all without having to burn the wood.  As it stands now, we have more than a winter’s worth stored up in the backyard along the fences.  Now that we have plenty, I plan to have a warm fire going any day I’m working at home – either on farm business or my “day job.”

Here's to a long day of fireside warmth and gift giving . . . only two more days to go.

It's Beginning to Feel a lot Like . . .

So . . . the tree is up, but not decorated.  The lights are lit, but only inside.  The presents are wrapped, but only some of them.  And still, it truly is beginning to feel more and more like Christmas.

We truly love giving our weekends to our friends' farm.  In fact, we hope to give our whole week to our own farm, once the right property becomes available, but for now we are content to do what agriculture we can in our urban farm and to help with the alpacas whenever possible.

That being said, giving our weekends to the animals has certainly cut into our home time, hence all the half-completed items listed here.  Yet, it is still Christmas regardless of whether we get the tree fully trimmed in time.  To see our kids are beginning to get excited and we can't wait to wake up early this Saturday and give gifts (and eat WAY more calories than are usually advisable).

It's coming, and ready or not, we're happy.

Angus Air Ruighinn

For some reason (a reason I know well but won't express here) driving to and from the farm in a tiny, sprightly Ford Focus hatchback just didn't feel right.  That, and there was no way to haul even one bale of hay or even one small cria without major hassles.  To this end we traded in our city-life, urban commuter-mobile for a real, honest to goodness Truck (capital 'T' intended).  This behemoth is simply a joy to drive and will haul everything we need it to and more. 

The kids quickly named the truck Angus, a name which is both fitting and expressive of the intent and personality of a big modern version of a buckboard.  We can't wait to give Angus his first workout.

Not Fainting Goats, These

There comes a time in every young cria’s life when the strange and oft-demanding personage known as the farmer straps a frightening contraption to their face, always followed by an insistent tugging on the chin from the rope hanging down from a ring tied in the center.  This is, of course, only a halter - a necessary lesson for any alpaca whether they will be shown or not. 

Handling alpacas is, arguably, much easier than other livestock.  While I have stood placidly by as more than one young cria has leapt right at me after I’ve placed the halter on their head, a similar action by a cow or even a sheep would require that I move aside, and quickly.  A half-sized alpaca tends to bounce off rather than trample, aided by their natural reticence to physical contact and the fact that I outweigh them by at least a factor of two.

That being said, the range of reactions these young fluffy pillows have to the halter is varied and sometimes hilarious.  Some simply accept it after a few tosses of the head, merely testing the lead a few times before succumbing to the fact that I am, in truth, in charge at that point.  Others fight the whole way.  One young lady likes to make repeated leaps right at me whenever I try to lead her anywhere.  She seems to forget the number of times she’s bounced off me and ended up limbs akimbo on the barn floor.  My least favorite response, but simultaneously the most hilarious, is the dramatic faint.  Some cria, especially the young males, will drop the ground in the most dramatic poses of distress.  They are simply overwhelmed by the experience and can’t face the world with that darn thing strapped to their head.

Beyond the humor of the faint, it’s a big pain.  They won’t move, they won’t stand up.  One had to be lifted bodily and taken into the vet room.  The trip back was similarly strenuous.  Sometimes you can tickle their back hips and they’ll stand again, sometimes it takes fetching their mother to coax them up. 

After a full day of this, my wife found a handy trick.  She found that if you place your arm around their neck gently and keep their head up, the cria is much less likely to drop like a Victorian lady after climbing stairs while wearing a tight corset.  It doesn’t always work, and once they’re down there’s still the problem of getting them back up, but it helps.  That counts for a lot.

Now, if we can figure out why it’s the boys that are such sissies we’ll be better off.

A Voyage

We spent the weekend halter training young weanling alpacas, but that story will have to wait a bit.  I'm leaving early early early in the morning on a business trip, not farm business sadly, but once I get back I'll fill you in on the fun.  Let's just say that young cria's can be . . . dramatic their first time on the lead. 

Mice and Melancholy

We’ve had a week of on-again off-again rain, leaving us with a mire of sloggy mess on the roadways in place of the beautiful covering of snow we had since before Thanksgiving.  Along with the departure of much of the snow has gone our holiday spirit.  It’s hard for us to trim a tree and put up Christmas decorations without a healthy covering of snow on the ground.  We’re managing it well enough (the tree is up at least) but we continue to look at up at the grey sky and wish for snow. 

In the mean time, I am happy to report that our War of the Mice seems to have been won.  It’s a hard reality of both living in an 80 year old house and keeping animals that mice will move in every fall.  Once it gets cold these little buggers, cute though they are, begin to find the little crevices and niches in our house where we seldom look, making for themselves a handy nest out of the detritus of a normal life.  The added attraction of a big can of chicken feed in the basement doesn’t help of course.

After way more traps than I care to count, and more than a little peanut butter, I appear to have caught the last of them.  If the temperatures warm up enough this week, a few more may find a way in, but for now the basement is rid of the unseen scrabbling and theft of chicken feed that has been rampant the last few weeks.

We Are A Farm, But Who Can Tell?

My wife and I are going through the process of branding our little freehold and its meager (as yet) products.  This is always both a fun and a challenging process, as you can really do anything with the brand you are building, but you must remain cognizant of the fact that your name and logo must be marketable as well as unique.  There are far sillier names for alpaca farms than Odd Ducks, and the name just seems to fit the longer we wear it   The name is ours and we mean to keep it.  As for labeling and the logo, that is another thing entirely.

As I type this, my wife's brother is working (quickly, we hope) on a logo for our growing farmstead.  In the mean time, the materials for our first line of beeswax candles are on their way here (via the angels at UPS) and we have no brand to put on them.  Design ideas are plentiful but decisions are thus far few and far between.

We will have sample labels up here soon.  Until then, it's back to the drawing board.  I can't wait.

P.S. Check back later for a link to our Etsy store, where we'll be selling our line of candles . . . as soon as the development is done, that is.  They're made with all-natural beeswax and our scents are all phthalate free.  More details as they are available!

Happy Nikolaus

As much of my family is German, as well as many of our friends, let me wish you a Happy Nikolaus.  Children in Germany (and some of German descent we know) put their boots out last night in hopes that St. Nicholas would leave them treats.  I know some boys that got movie tickets as a reward for their good behavior this year.  Our own children did not participate this year, opting instead for the haul that Santa Claus has brought them in years past.

Whatever holiday you observe, Odd Ducks Farm wishes you a happy one and, if you're lucky, one snuggled closely with your family.  Enjoy a fire in the fireplace and wassail for us.

We Have Readers?

I pulled up the stats today and was gratified to see that people actually read our little blog. Thank you for your attention and time.  Welcome to the farm, we hope you enjoy your stay.

'Ere the Sun Rises

Last night we came to realize how very very tired we really are.  After dealing with the dumping snow last weekend, the warming this week with all the fun of the slush and ice, and the usual pressures and needs of a week's work, we were truly nackered.  In a bid to restoring some of that lost energy, we decided to sleep in this morning.

We were woken by a rare sight for December in Spokane.  The sun was streaming in through the windows.  When I climbed up to the window and peeked out at the side of the blinds, I was greeted with a twinkling frost and bright blue skies.  It was a welcome break from the rain and snow and made the morning all the more pleasurable.  We sipped coffee and ate French toast - made with eggs from our own flock - and enjoyed a quiet morning at the table.  Now, off to the alpacas.

Slushy Slush

Unfortunately for us, our winter wonderland is a bit tainted of late.  The weather gods decided to take away our cold arctic air and leave the moist warm air behind.  Without both we're now living in a slushy middleground between autumn and winter.  The snow that is left behind is heavy with water, the roads are either slippery with melting slush or full of standing water.

I want my winter back, thank you very much.