Possible Second Animal

This little angel is Painted Indy.  Unless something untoward happens between now and May, she is most likely our second alpaca purchase.  Check out the cool coloring on this little girl!  She has the most impressive lineage and her full sister is beyond gorgeous.  This picture was taken three days after she was born, but more up-to-date pictures are forthcoming.

A week ago last Saturday my wife had the pleasure of attending the Priority Alpaca Auction in Las Vegas.  Aside from the obvious incongruity of a livestock auction amid slot machines and blackjack tables, it was a great event.  We were saddened to find that the alpaca business has it's crooks like everything else, in this case the not so subtle pressure brought to bear against suri alpacas by the organizers of the event, but it was well tempered by the fact that so many alpaca breeders are so friendly and open.  Everyone was there to have a good time and there is an undercurrent of support for each other, even as we all compete for the same animals and profits.

Little Indy is from Suris of the Western Slopes in Colorado.  We'll probably get to see her in person around May, when we'll make a final decision whether to purchase her or not.  Unless she comes in with something major like a hunched back or twisted hips, I'm pretty sure we'll soon have our second alpaca female.

One Down . . .

We sold our first candle yesterday, after about five minutes on the store shelf too.  Let's hope it keeps up.

Alpacas and People, Crowds Alike

It's striking how a large crowd of any type of mammal tends to resemble any other group of mammals.  When we feed the main herd, we typically kick everyone out of the barn so we can clean and feed in relative peace.  This leads to an inevitable scrum of alpacas at the gate, pushing and shoving to get in and find the choicest morsels.  Ever found yourself waiting to purchase concert tickets at a ticket counter?  It's much the same thing.  The heightened tension, the elevated tempers, the inevitable disappointment when things aren't run exactly as you think they should be.

Once the girls get inside, the parallels continue.  There really isn't much in the way of variety in the average alpaca's diet.  It's always alfalfa, first cut hay, second cut hay, and grain.  So, without the possibility of differing in food choice that humans and other omnivores enjoy, they much differ in their manner of eating.  Some pick the best hay out with their prehensile lips, pulling the grassy first-cut out of the stack no matter how I try to hide it with second-cut on the outside.  Others just dive in, the gluttons of the bunch invariably.  Others eschew the grasses entirely, opting to munch loudly on the grain (followed by much belching and coughing most times).  Sounds like quite a few teenagers I know.  Then there are what we affectionately call the bottom feeders.  They, for whatever reason, believe the best hay is to be had at the bottom of the pile.  These can easily be distinguished by their ever-present toupee of green alfalfa leaves.  Our Sweet 16 happens to be one of these.

Alpacas or people, it's always fun to see the differences and the similarities. 

Sick of the Rush

I was outside this morning chopping up the next round of cardboard boxes for the recycling bin (there are a lot of them when you live states away from family and Christmas has just come and gone) when I was blasted by noise from not one but two full-sized semi trucks whooshing by my house, followed closely by an impatient, engine-revving line of commuters trying desperately to get to work on time.  It struck me how much I have come to dislike the hustle and bustle of city life.  Sure, it's very nice being able to pop down to any of three grocery stores within five minutes of my home.  The availability of good restaurants and entertainment is nice as well.  But I'm just sick and tired of the noise and the constant rush rush rush.  Everyone is in a hurry. Everyone is trying to get somewhere desperately, almost always by car, and anyone who is not in as much of a rush as they are is "in the way."

Seeing as how my primary mode of conveyance, a full-sized pickup truck named Angus, gets about 10 miles to the gallon, I try as much as possible to keep the RPMs under 2,000 when driving .  This means it takes me a bit more time to get going at green lights and it also means that I most often can be found going the speed limit or less.  You would think that I was going five miles an hour by the attitude of drivers behind me.  How dare I go the speed limit!

Ah, well.  This, as is so much else, is temporary.  Some day soon we will leave this metropolitan utopia behind for the country.  I can't wait.

Thanks for tolerating my rant today.  I appear to be in a mood.

Shame On Me

To say we've been busy would be something of an understatement, even for us.  My wife spent last weekend at the Priority Auction in Las Vegas.  It was amazing to learn that so many people in the alpaca world are just like she is - giving, friendly, outgoing, and more than happy to share what they have with anyone who needs it.  She made all kinds of good contacts, had a good time as well, and came back with a line on a new cria that, come summer, may be ours for a good deal. 

For my part, I took care of chickens, children, and all the alpacas at SuperSuris.  I scooped poop, fed, did some minor treatment of goopy eyes and administration of thyroid meds to two crias that seem not to gain weight no matter how much they eat, in addition to taking my daughter to 4H and keeping a five year old from going crazy with boredom.  I mean, you can only watch "Lady and the Tramp" so many times before you go insane, right?

And yet, with all the craziness, it was a successful weekend.  My wife learned a lot and gained a lot of experience in the alpaca world.  All of the SuperSuris' animals were healthy and happy when the Walkers returned home, and my kids had a good weekend in spite of all the work.  My wife is exhausted, I am slightly more exhausted, but there are 180+ happy alpacas humming contentedly away.  We done good.

So why shame on me?  Well, because I neglected this blog for five whole days.  Such things can kill blogs and I've done it to myself.  I promise to do better in the future.

And Yet More Candles

We have the right wick, the right container, the right wax, the right scents.  Now on to massive candle making.  More soon.

The Warm Glow of a Good Lantern

We recently acquired a newly made Dietz lantern.  While there are many sources of light in our home and on our property, I find myself turning to the ol’ Dietz more and more as a source of both light and warmth.  This is the old-fashioned lamp many imagine when they picture old farms and barns, lit by glass-domed lamps, a guttering blade of flame safely ensconced within. 

Sadly, Dietz is no longer made in this country.  In fact, I don’t believe they’ve been made in the US in some time.  A Chinese company manufactures them, as they do so many other things, but thankfully the character and simple usefulness of these lights remains intact.  Sure, the manufacture of these lanterns isn’t as delicate or detailed as it once was, but the simple fact remains that come Hell or high water, we have a warm source of light for the house that can safely burn for hours without our worrying about dripping wax or lighting the drapes afire.

I have found it superior to a flashlight when delving into the chicken coop to fill the feeder or waterer, simply because it broadcasts an even orange light that doesn’t disturb the roosting chickens.  (For those of you who are thinking of getting into chickens, the best time to check them when they’ll stay put and tolerate a little handling is the evening.)   On cold nights the lantern has another use I have found.  The flame, when turned all the way up, generates a fair amount of heat.  This rises into the cap at the top and is diffused upwards towards the hand holding the bale.  This has the wonderful effect of thawing whichever hand is holding the lantern.  Because of this, I often change hands and enjoy at least one warm hand at a time.

A Lovely Day, Manure Notwithstanding

As a favor to our friends at SuperSuris, we will be working as hands on the farm every weekend during the show season.  This is formalizing our working relationship with them, which has been largely casual up 'till now, while possibly allowing us to purchase a second animal.  As their first auction is this weekend, in Las Vegas no less, I spent the weekend bent over a pitchfork, learning all the feeding and cleaning tasks necessary of a given weekend. 

Far from an onerous task, cleaning the barns has the ancillary benefit of allowing me to interact with the animals and to work alongside them, complete with their curious glances and intent hums.  I quickly found that by singing they would cluster around, trying to figure out what I was doing.  I got to know so many of them that I haven't seen much of that it was well worth the smell and the hard work.

On the many trips to the manure pile I made sure to stop and look around me.  The snow has nearly all melted, thanks to an unseasonably warm front which brought us a week of rain, and all the moisture is rising out of the ground as a low lying fog.  It is at times both eerie and beautiful and an earnest sampling of the spring to come.  The alpacas were enjoying the temporary thaw, pronking and prancing all over the fields they have mostly abandoned due to the snow and ice.  I loved it.

Two Wonderful Programs

For those of you interested in small farming and historical farming methods, there are two wonderful programs produced in England and made available on YouTube.  Both are in several parts, but all of them are on YouTube in order and they are well worth watching.  The first, called Victorian Farm, follows three modern folks, all with background historical knowledge (historians, archeologists, etc.) living on a Victorian era farm and living the life of a Victorian farmer.  The second series, called Edwardian Farm, is a sequel to the first in which the same three people try to live as Edwardians in a similar situation.  I think what strikes me most is the effort taken by the producers to reproduce the lifestyle and society in which these people would have operated very completely.  They often have friends and experts and family visit the show, but everyone is in period dress and the technology and methods are all period as well.  They are both a fascinating study in historic farming and I've learned a few things we plan to apply to our own operation once we get up and running. 

Here are the links to the first episode of both shows.  Watch them.  Devour them.  I have.

Victorian Farm on YouTube
Edwardian Farm on YouTube

The Business of the Farm

I knew that farming wasn’t like anything we had done before.  I had read the stories, the books, the blogs.  I came in to this expecting, nay wanting something different.

The timelines are longer yet slower, continuous but cyclical, and strenuous and relaxing all at the same time.  But what I truly didn’t expect was the business aspect of farming.  It’s surprisingly like every other business I have begun or worked.  The same records must be kept, the same conscious thought towards the bottom line, the same movement towards the biggest benefit for the least amount of work.  It’s so much like business that the term agribusiness seems much more applicable sometimes than agriculture.

And yet, beyond the business aspects of farming, there is an intrinsic benefit that the farmer receives from his or her work that cannot be quantified in terms of money or time.  I see it every time my wife sighs contentedly after spending a day in the barns, wrestling with crias.  I feel it every time I sit down after a long day of shoveling hay and manure (of all things).  I see it in my kids’ sleepy eyes as they attempt to stay awake in the back of the truck on our long drive home. 

The simple fact that we work with our hands and our bodies much more than our minds leaves us tired but content at the end of the day.  Spicing our days afield are the stolen moments when we look up from what we are doing and take in the simple beauty of a farm and the countryside.  In contrast, after a long day working at our “day jobs” my wife and I can’t help feel harried and stressed as we try to cram time in for the kids, a meal, and all the various little jobs that keep a house running into the few hours we have between coming home and going to bed.

Our time on the farm and our hard work there has led us to feel less contented with our urban life and to look forward to our short rural weekends more and more.  I guess that’s the point.

Alpacas in the Dark

A funny thing happens to the herd when the sun goes down.  Even when we are still working and the floodlights are on in the barn, the mothers and their babies definitely know that night is nigh.  The babies, often ranging around in their own groups away from their mothers, go back to their mothers’ side and hang close from then on.  The constant grunting and jockeying for the best spots at the trough die down and the low hum of contented alpacas soon takes over.  Slowly, imperceptibly almost, everything slows down and we’re left with the soft rustle of feet on straw and a few contented hums from nursing babies.

I was lucky enough to both be present at this time but also to have my camera with me.  The shot you see above gives some of the feeling of that time of day.

Once we had our own young safely belted in the truck and were ready to leave, I called out “Goodnight, Alpacas.”  I was rewarded with a short chorus of hums, followed quickly by silence. 

Here’s to moms with babies and happy humming.

Winter Sleeps

The terms sleep and winter seem to go together in the modern ethos.  We talk of the quiet of winter with words like blanket, cover, hibernation, slumber – heck, I’ve done that myself (see prior posts).  However, the weather this week has given me a new meaning of “winter sleeps.”  We’ve had an unseasonably warm week, with temperatures in the high 30’s and rain for the last two days.  Much of the snow has melted into sticky slush yet again and the drip drop from the rapidly shrinking icicles is a constant accompaniment.

However, spring has definitely not sprung.  Winter merely sleeps and will soon return in all its normal force. 

We’re supposed to see snow tomorrow, rapidly decreasing temperatures, and the return of heavy snow by Wednesday.  For my part, I wish it comes back stronger than before.  Having grown up in Southern California, I feel cheated whenever the snow on the ground doesn’t hold through the entire season.  Of course, no longer having to negotiate that snow with a small commuter car does help my outlook in heavy winter weather, but that’s beside the point.

Time for Candlemaking

Although we ordered our supplies from three different places at three different times, all three boxes arrived together yesterday.  The jars are beautiful, the wicks look large enough, and the scents . . . oh the scents.  My wife and I gave ourselves headaches smelling all of them last night.  They're a little potent in raw form but they will be wonderful once they're encased in beeswax.

Now begins the easy part, pouring the samples for the farms to which we plan to market the candles.  Whether they sell or not, one thing is for sure - our house is going to smell wonderful for the next few days while we mix and pour the candles.  The last time I poured the pumpkin souffle candles we all gained a few pounds - the sugary scent caused us all to overeat for a few days.

A New Year

Things are clearly changing on the farm, for the better we hope.  Our weekends, while still filled with our own chores as well as what we do up at SuperSuris to help them out, are less hectic and more varied – especially so as the store at SuperSuris will now be ‘by appointment.’  There just aren’t enough shoppers to keep the store open through the whole year.  Not yet, anyway.

Most of the other farms in Green Bluff are doing something similar – most having shut down until next fall.  Now is the time for recovery before the inevitable rush of prepping the fields and sowing the next crop.  The wheat fields are all covered in a blanket of snow, a condition that will likely continue through April at least, probably later.  The orchards are bare, the canes free of both berries and leaves, and everything sleeps under its frozen coverlet, waiting for the sun to be warm again and for the wind to stop blowing.

And yet, life for the alpacas continues.  Babies must be halter trained (as comedic as that can be on snow and ice), health needs must be seen to, and the endless shoveling in of hay and out of droppings must continue.  In one thing the care of the animals is a bit easier.  Because the ground is well covered by snow, and because alpacas are notably shy about slippery surfaces, they largely stay in the barns, limiting the piles of droppings from the widely spread piles of fall to only a few spots in the barn.  This makes cleaning easier but simultaneously smellier, as the stench is concentrated.  Still, it takes less time to clean up and feed as it did during the fall.

Only two babies still have blankets tied securely to their backs.  The rest are fleeced out and happily munching hay alongside their compatriots.  The weanlings are starting to get used to the idea that they no long have access to “mom” and her seemingly endless supply of milk.  Things are definitely settling down into a routine.