Rosemary

We no longer have a 6-pack of sheep.

One of my little DorperX ewes lambed early this morning. I had just separated her finally, last nite, so either she was holding out, or I did it just in the nick of time.

We were in eating breakfast,which our friend the chef, fixed for us. We are going into Burns today to take Mr Cider to see the vet, as he hasn't been feeling up to snuff. It was below 20 degrees so this little one plopped into a chilly world. Everything must have gone swimmingly, because she was up, dry and had already suckled. The pups were sooo excited!

I made them stay out of the corral while I went in to see if it was a ram or ewe lamb and check out Mama. Cletus was so desperate to get closer, he went under EmmaLouMoo's corral gate, through 2 pastures and back around to the gate behind the sheep pen so he could get a closer look. He really loves his pets.

There was a bit of a battle between the Maremmas this morning because Cletus really wanted to see her and it's Bruno's job to take care of the newborns and their mamas. He thumped Cletus to remind him.

Cletus reassured EmmaLouMoo that he still loves her too.

Cletus wants to keep her.
I believe we shall call her Rosemary, because I just LOVE rosemary and lamb.

Hard to Swallow

Its that time of year to begin planning next year’s garden. There is a lot to it, as I have moved everything and need to fence the chickens out. After two very cold, wet summers, I am going to try putting up some row covers to keep things warm so maybe I won’t have crop failures this year. I really need to have enough food to can and get us through the winter. 

A trip to the grocery store typically takes 17-20 hours or so, as it’s 4 hours to get there and with the price of fuel, we have to combine doctor appointments, errands and pick up livestock feed and medicines the same day. Freezer space here is at a premium, as all our meat has to be frozen. There is no running into town for a burger! Therefore, everything is made from scratch and canning is a huge help. I had done just a little canning before we moved here, as back then the store was exactly 1 mile from my house as opposed to 230 miles.

Necessity is the mother of invention. I am SO glad we live here and I have had to change the way we do things. Our food is an experience now, the flavor is better beyond belief, its much, much healthier than what we used to buy and there is the satisfaction of having provided and my time being well spent. I’d much rather be canning, or making bread than sitting in front of a soap opera, or talking on the phone, or fighting the crowds at a mall buying stuff I don’t need. For the things I do need, well, there is the internet.

Homegrown food tastes better, because its fresh and it doesn't have a ton of weird stuff in it like fillers and preservatives. Who wouldn't enjoy homegrown tomatoes or strawberries, or fresh eggs, homemade bread, or butter??

I have to freeze some things that I don’t think can well, like our squash. Mostly I canned green beans, corn, tomatoes and chicken broth. It hadn’t occurred to me until today, when I ran across someone else’s blog, that I could be canning my stews, soups and chili, for a quick and convenient meal, instead of making everything from start to finish every day! I am pretty excited about this. I have a few recipes that I absolutely love and having it already put together and on hand is something I really do look forward to. This year I plan to can 3 kinds of stew, beef, venison and lamb. All three recipes are a bit different and should be a luxury to have on our shelves. All that I would have to do then, is make bread or dumplings to go with it. In addition, I hope to find some chicken quarters on sale and can cooked chicken to pull out for making enchiladas and other things. Chicken Tortilla soup should can well also. There are a number of things I could be doing on the days I feel good, so I can work less on the days I do not.

 I shouldn’t be surprised that it hadn’t occurred to me to can meals, as I am the person who walked out and gave my chickens some stale bread then found myself in the house adding ‘Dried Seasoned Bread Crumbs” to my grocery list. It was a real revelation and extremely humbling when I realized what I had just done. Sometimes I am just a little slow on the uptake.

This morning, I took a bunch of fall apples from the trees by the pasture and started a batch of cider vinegar. It seems to be fairly straightforward and I am anxiously looking forward to see how it turns out. Buying the real apple cider vinegar in town is $8 a gallon. Making it is free.

The other thing I am currently investigating is a grain mill. Milling my own cereals and flour would be a huge savings and would be a huge improvement in health and flavor over what I am using now.

Our friend the chef cooked up one of our ‘meaties’ last nite. These are the chickens we raised last summer for the freezer...or should I say, Cletus raised them, after all, it was Cletus who kept them safe and baby sat for 2 months.

I can truly say, it was the most delicious chicken I have ever tasted. He took fresh garlic, chopped onion, fresh rosemary and thyme from my garden, mixed it with a little olive oil and slipped it under the skin of my chicken. Then he wiped off the outside so it was good and dry, sprinkled liberally with garlic, kosher salt and pepper, then he drizzled melted homemade butter all over it. It was then placed breast side down on a rack and put in a 350 degree oven on convection. Onion, chopped celery and baby carrots were strewn in the pan underneath the rack.

While the chicken was roasting, he poured some of this morning’s heavy cream in a pan, adding just a bit of milk to thin it, because our cream is so thick and heavy it doesn’t pour. I trotted out to the garden for a couple more sprigs of rosemary which he dropped in the pan with the cream. It was set to simmer and infuse the rosemary into the cream. This was later used to mash potatoes, and I can tell you, it was awesome!

The chicken was turned over half way through baking so the skin would be nice and crispy all the way around. After he was done, the chicken and rack came out and flour was mixed in with the vegetables and juices in the bottom of the pan to make a sort of roux. Liquid was added and it was set back on the stove to simmer and thicken. The veggies were then strained out and we fell on this meal like a duck on a bug and ate ourselves into happy oblivion. We shoveled it in and like to choked ourselves, it was that wonderful.

I tend to think and write about food quite often. Nearly everything we have here is geared to food...our chickens, eggs, lamb, beef, milk...but I want you to understand, I come by it honestly. I come from a family who really loves to eat. We will eat just about anything.

Case in point...

My dad has a couple of medications he is supposed to take every day. (Who doesn’t?)

My stepmom ALSO has a couple she has to take. She, however, has found it to be very convenient to put her new, small hearing aids in an empty pill bottle.

By her sweet nature, she is always taking care of my dad and generally brings him his pills.

By his own nature, my dad is fiercely independent. A few weeks ago, he decided to get himself his OWN pills.

Shortly after, my stepmom came to him with a glass of water and more pills.

He said he’d already TAKEN his pills.

She said, no he had not, she had them in her hand.

After much back and forth and investigation, it was discovered that dad had swallowed

HER HEARING AIDS!

My gawd I love that man!

A Day on the Town

Our good friend, the chef, is coming from Nebraska, for his annual ranch visit/hunting trip. He is a lot like a brother and we enjoy him immensely. He often brings friends and since they stay in the cabins, he brings them to our house to feed them and he does most of the cooking. THAT works VERY well for me!

We do, however, have a bit of a competition going. I am determined that he is not able to ask for an ingredient or necessary kitchen gadget that I do not have. He wanted scallions, I had them. He wanted tarragon, I had some. He needed a ricer, I had one...and so on. I am very type A, and spend all year trying to determine what he might request so I can not only have it on hand, but have my own uses for it so nothing goes to waste. One year he asked for saffron, which I did not have. He said "I know, its about $90 an ounce, I don't need it, but I knew you wouldn't have it."

I told him that was cheating, so once again, I won by default.

but THIS year...

 rising doctor bills and a trip down South took a toll on our finances and threw off our quarterly shopping. I was nearly OUT of EVERYTHING in my pantry. I pride myself on being extremely well stocked here, able to fix just about any meal we desire with what is on hand. I am considered the ranch grocery store. If you need to borrow it, I probably have it.

As it costs a couple of hundred dollars in fuel per trip, we are not able to go grocery shopping just for the sake of grocery shopping. Dr. appointments, feed-store, home-store and all errands have to coincide. We take our big stock trailer and fill it up. 

Our friend said he would arrive on the 4th of January, so I figured my winning record was over. Then we got a phone call, asking us to confirm my January 3rd doctor appointment! I love the way God orchestrates the little things in our lives. He is the author of humor, so its no big surprise when He does something like this. I knew it was going to be tough getting everything put away the next day as I would be tired. As luck would have it, he called and left a day late, won't be here until the 5th. How perfect is that?

I’ve been sick with a cold for over a week. Having a compromised immune system tends to make one susceptible to everything and taking immunosuppressant drugs makes it hard to heal, as your body’s normal response to fight virus or bacteria is very weak. So far, nothing has been very helpful. I have used Nyquil, Dayquil, Sudafed, hot tea with honey, hot tea with honey and vinegar, raw vinegar, honey and onion concoction, which did help SOME, but then I tried the method I had the least amount of faith in, which was rubbing Vicks on the bottoms of my feet and donning socks. THAT worked! I didn’t cough the rest of the night and what little coughing I do this morning is much more productive. Go figure.

Leaving the ranch for a day is always a huge production. We have to get up and leave around 5 a.m. and don't get back home usually until after midnight. I have EmmaLouMoo who needs milking, the goats, the sheep and the calves to fed and watered, the chickens to look after and of course, there are the dogs. Cider and Scottie-the-delinquent usually go with us, but the Maremmas remain behind to guard the livestock and I always worry they will run in front of a ranch truck, or get into mischief while I am away. They rarely do, but I still worry. At any rate, there is a lot to do, and its very difficult to find someone who can and will cover for me when we have to go to town, which makes me even more grateful we tend to only go every 3 months or so.

That said, my new friend, "D" (1/2 of the new couple who are staying on the ranch), offered to do so. It’s really quite an undertaking and a very generous offer, so she came over several mornings to help me milk EmmaLou to learn the routine and how to keep from being cow-crunched, as cows have no earthly idea how wide they are and will ooze through any size opening, even if its only inches wide. If you should have the misfortune to be passing through the opening yourself, you will be smashed like a bug on a windshield and pinned to whatever wall happens to be there. They are not conscious, or maybe they are, of their feet either. They are surprisingly heavy when they crush your metatarsals and your feet will turn a kaleidoscope of colors over the following weeks. Don’t ask how I know.

She did a fabulous job and learned quickly where to be, when, and how to do stuff, from putting the belly milker together, to getting a recalcitrant EmmaLou in and out of her stanchion, to processing the milk and cleaning everything up. Emma tested her to see if she really knew how to do this, the pups looked on to make sure she was pouring the milk properly into the jars and waiting for their portion as anything over 3 gallons goes to them.

 In addition to this she fed everyone last night. It was so great to go to town knowing I didn’t have to worry because someone who was interested was taking care of my animal family at home. We got up, Randyman fed the critters and we left at 6 a.m. And returned home around 11 p.m. Only 17 hours, round trip. Not too bad for grocery shopping, doctors appointment, hitting the feed store and a couple of errands thrown in and eating out to boot!

The pups were at the gate wiggling wildly, at seeing us pull up. When I got in the house Cletus was looking through my bedroom window HOWLING at me. I let them in and they were ecstatic to see us. Cletus was especially attentive and anxious, which made me think back to a doberman I used to have. She used to have a similar reaction to my return when she felt something had gone wrong...like the time someone came to borrow my car and she was unable to prevent them. It was about then that Randy found the note on the table.

My friend said all went well and her husband, “B” did the heavy lifting...but apparently Cletus took exception to his presence as he smelled like a coyote, being a trapper. I suspected Cletus was trying to tell me something.

Cletus has been introduced to “B” several times, by me and has been very accepting of him outside of the yard and pastures. This however, was apparently not acceptable to him, as he was bringing "Eau de Coyote" in too close to Cletus’ charges. He knows “D” though, the lady half of the equation and she said he never went beyond being verbal, but let his feelings be known. I am glad he didn’t cause any real problem, as these are REALLY nice people and I like them a lot, but on the other hand, I am a little bit proud that Cletus is thinking and trying to do a good job. Bruno, I think, just knows. He is a wise and pretty well adjusted dog. He takes after Randyman and Cletus tends a bit more towards anxiety and hysteria like myself.

I was truly exhausted this morning, but Randyman invited the polar bears to come in and visit. It’s pretty much routine for them to visit me while I have coffee, before milking and letting the animals out, then they come in a again for a bit, after the animals are fed at night and put away. The rest of the day and night they are ‘on duty’.

The minute I sat down this morning, big ol’ Cletapotamus came and gave me a 30 minute hug. He typically hugs me everyday, by putting his front feet on something near to me so he is slightly taller than I am, then dropping his head to my chest and laying all his weight against me. Try as I might, I can’t resist burying my arms in his thick fur and holding him thus. Normally he only does this for a few moments, then gives me a ‘nose touch’. But this morning was a marathon. I think he was really traumatized by my absence. That's probably not a good thing in a Livestock Guardian. Next summer he will probably have to spend more time separated from me and living with his chickens and sheep.

It’s so good to be loved by something so noble as a dog.

There is still a 6-pack of sheep out back, but the little ewe I have been watching has been rubbing against everything this morning and talking a little bit. I suspect she may lamb this week, but I turned her out in the back pasture where it is a lot cleaner than the pen they sleep in and I came back to the house. Experience has taught me, a watched pot never boils and a watched ewe, never lambs. Again, we shall see.

Winter or Fall??

The pups have been doing a capital job of taking care of things. The other night Bruno was out somewhere in one of the pastures barking at SOMETHING that clearly didn’t belong, while Cletus ran back and forth from Bruno to the house. I was exhausted, it was cold and I didn’t really want to run outside with my flashlight to see what was going on, but I had the feeling that Cletus was wanting our attention. I just couldn’t bring myself to do my part and fell back asleep, knowing the goats, sheep and chickens were all safely locked up and easily protected.

I awoke in a great deal of discomfort, as the barometer has changed again and that always tends to throw me off. Because of that, I got up extra early. Cletus was asleep on the back porch, but I couldn’t find Bruno anywhere. I let Cletus in to visit and get some morning hugs and prayed for Bruno’s safe return. Awhile later Randy located him out front, so let him in to visit as well.

Milking went well with Miss EmmaLouMoo, but the sheep and calves bellowed in chorus wanting treats while I attended her. Afterwards, I slogged my way past greedy cow, greedier sheep and very pushy calves to give them their goodies.

Afterwards I let the sheep out to graze on the big pasture. I decided to walk all the way to the bottom and check the spring box and show them where the water was, as they don't tend to venture that far away. They followed me in a little line, with Tooney in the front. The 3 little blackheaded Dorper X ewes would straggle way behind, then run to catch up. Of course that would set every one off, and Tooney would also start to run along with the little ram and lamb who had been with her. Not knowing WHAT they were running from, they would then begin to run in circles around me, until the pups came to calm them all down. The puppies discovered bubbles under the ice and tried their very best to capture them, without success.  We finally made it to the water, they drank, then they all ran off and left me to walk back home alone.

I slogged my way up the hill, mentally making a list of the things that needed doing. It wasn't very far into the list that I found myself overwhelmed and decided to just do what was in front of me, until I found myself somewhere near the end of the list...which is quite a long way to travel.

I raked some more good, garden-enhancing poo out of the pens, wheeled it out to the garden to dump in a pile for the chicks to go through, then threw my muscle into dragging the wagon full of milk bucket to the house.

 I stopped and checked to make sure Miss Priss, the goat, didn’t come back into heat, as its anyone’s guess if this little Boer buck, Mr PeeBody, has been able to get the job done or not. So far, signs point to his success.

I let the chickens out and went in to process the milk.

I stepped out front to put some laundry in and our new friend and neighbor called out hello and brought over some peanut butter we had asked them to pick up on their trip to town. She is going to teach me to quilt and I am going to show her how to make Mozzarella and Ricotta cheese today.

We went through the initial cheesemaking steps then she showed me a few  tricks on doing an applique quilt. We headed over to her ‘house’ to look at some fabrics while we had a lull in the cheesemaking process.

 As we were walking along, I suddenly found myself looking at the tops of some very tall, old trees. I noticed a wasp hive about the same time I noticed a great deal of pain in my hip and wrist. Apparently someone very large, fast and invisible, had lifted me overhead and body slammed me to the ground with such speed that neither of us ever saw the attacker. It’s all I can figure as I really have no idea how else I could have wound up on the ground. I groaned a bit, my companion noted that there was likely a measurement on the richter scale from the impact I made and the pups decided to do their rendition of “TIMMY’S IN THE WELL!”. 

They managed to get out of our back yard, through a corral and 2 pastures, in the blink of an eye and rush to my side to check on my welfare. I am guessing they DID see the invisible hulk which had wreaked such destruction on my rapidly stiffening self. Not just one, but BOTH Maremmas came to my rescue. I am not sure what they thought they would do, as they don’t have cell phones, opposable thumbs, or the number of the Medi-vac, but they were there at my side nonetheless to make sure I was okay.

Cider, in the meanwhile, my 'service dog', who had been playing with the pups when i fell, stayed in the backyard peering through the fence with an "Is she dead?" look on his face. He never did drop the toy out of his mouth.

 There is nothing like being the biggest klutz in the county to just embarrass myself beyond belief.

I had visions of “Granny fell and broke her hip” going out over all the newswires.

I escaped from the puppies’  concerned ministrations and limped into my friend's house. Bruno was unconvinced and tried to come in with us, then reconciled himself to watching with his head in the door.  We looked at fabrics she had and I marveled over a very complex quilt she is making of canadian geese standing in the water...unbelievably beautiful, amazing talent. I am very excited about what I might be able to learn. I opted to let her choose the fabrics as my color matching ability is about as great as my love for city life.

Upon returning to my house, we finished up the Mozzarella and quickly made Ricotta with the leftover whey. I grabbed the bucket of Boule dough out of the back room, 3 pizza stones and we made 3 big pizzas for dinner.

News travels fast.

I went out to feed and milk this morning and all the animals visually examined me to make sure i was really going to make it.

Its good to be cared about.

So.....

The Maremma pups came back after a long night on patrol. Randy got up and showered, leaving me snug in the comfort of my warm down blankets for a bit longer. He went out and threw hay to EmmaLou and the goats and sheep. I made it as far as the couch and the coffeepot. As he came back inside to say goodbye, the pups followed him in. Tongue lolling out the side of his mouth in a large doggy grin, Cletus found me on the couch and buried his head in my lap. Cider watched, agitated that his place had been usurped, while Bruno waited his turn. Rubbing each furry body in turn, I indulged myself in my cup of coffee and slowly came awake enough to go milk.

I put the milking machine together, grabbed my bucket of warm water and headed for the door. When the dogs saw me step into my shoes, they knew I was really and truly going to go outside. They filed past me onto the porch and I put my buckets in the big wagon. I pulled it to the chicken pen, stopping to give them some more lay crumbles for their breakfast before letting them out to forage. The sheep had already been fed and were waiting at the big gate, so the pups and I went through the little gate, checking them all out to be sure no one was ready to lamb yet. Bruno and Cletus in turn went nose to nose with each one, counting, or saying good morning, or whatever it is that they do. I opened the big gate to their day pastures and Cletus led them out. Each morning, Cletus precedes the sheep out of sight and does another sweep to make sure no predators are close-by. The pasture the sheep like to graze in is probably about 20 acres or so with the large creek running through one side of it. If the water is low enough, they can just leave and go another mile or two out on the ranch. Its very open to predators and the willows along the creek bed give them good hiding spots from which to attack. Satisfied with the security check, Cletus comes back to meet me in the milk room. Bruno is already there, checking the calves behind the milk barn and sweeping the big horse corral and old barn with his eyes to make sure nothing is lurking there.

Emma takes her time eating, so after I am done with the milking, I decide to let the goats out back, as they go in a different pasture. As they hurry through the gate, Cletus runs to catch up with them as he hasn’t yet checked THAT pasture. He is faithful to do his best and when he returns, he plants himself where he can see the chickens and watch in the direction of the sheep, just in case he is needed. Bruno sleeps soundly as he is the night guardian who does the most traveling. He will rest unless Cletus sounds the alarm, then he will rise up in an instant, ready to do whatever it takes. For the most part, the days are quiet. The dogs have done such a good job we rarely have anything cross into their perimeter.

The goats came back up again. Scarlett, who is a very large Nubian doe weighing almost 200 lb. is in heat. We borrowed a little Boer goat buck to breed to them. For reasons that you need not dwell on if you have EVER been around an intact male goat, his name is PeeBody. PeeBody is tiny. Really, he is just a pip of a goat, but that doesn’t bother him any...at least it DIDN’T until today. I notice them wooing and romancing one another and PeeBody decides the time is ripe to do his manly duty. It is then we all realize with horror that his legs are too short. He huffs and puffs while Scarlett grumbles. She continually climbs on anything in the pen, a stump, a large chunk of felled wooden fence, whatever she can find. In her little goaty brain she has the right idea, but the wrong half of the combination. I try gallantly to pull her down and allow PeeBody to take the higher ground, but Scarlett won’t hold still for him. In exasperation I open the gate to the 10 acre pasture behind the house to let them and EmmaLou out, hoping Scarlett will wind up in a ditch or low spot, or graze alongside one of the downed trees so PeeBody can have his opportunity. 

Emma and the pups accompany me as I walk down through the pasture, hoping to show the goats where the water is at the bottom. There are spring boxes down there they don’t know about, as for some reason, the goats and sheep never venture that far, even when hungry. About a quarter of the way down, EmmaLou suddenly turns around, shakes her head menacingly, jumps up and down and begins bucking and running, chasing the goats all the way back to their pen. I continue on and she catches up. The pups have gone ahead to do a perimeter check. Em passes me and I hear the machine gunfire of little hooves behind me as the goats catch up again. This time she allows them to come half way before she menacingly attacks them again and chases them off. I give up and walk back up to the corral. Its clear that Emma doesn’t think she should share. The pups meet me up there and they go back to chicken sitting while I go in the house to attempt, once again, to make cookies with homemade butter that will NOT melt and spread.

It takes a different kind of flour. I have been using the economy all purpose flour. Bosswife was helping me ponder the situation and she recalled that her mother used to use only homemade butter as, her dad being a farmer, they grew up with a milk cow. The only difference we could think of, was that she also ground her own flour. Bosswife had a higher quality flour she loaned me and boy howdy, it worked!!!

I have to soften the butter a couple of different times as it is cold in our house and it sets up quickly, not wanting to mix well. I cut out my cookies and set them in the oven for 75 minutes which is what the shortbread takes to cook. SUCCESS!!! Now I just need to sell a LOT of soap and a LOT Of lambs so I can afford my own grain mill.

The cookies retain their original shape, are silky soft and melt in my mouth. The flavor is remarkably improved. I am gratified as BUYING butter to make cookies with really irked me. I have an entire freezer shelf full of homemade butter and there is NO way I could possibly use it all up on bread and pancakes!

The chickens have already put themselves to bed. Its very cold out as I go to feed and bring all the critters back to their nighttime corrals. I can see my breath in the frosty air and my hands are chilled to the bone. Grateful things went quickly, I say goodnight to the 3 calves, EmmaLouMoo, the 3 goats and the 6 lambs. No point in bothering the chickens.

I wait until 8 o’clock and Randy still isn’t home from feeding. They are seeding a large part of the ranch and three of the boys are taking 4 hour shifts driving and pulling the seeder. Randy therefore, will feed the calves in a pasture somewhere out there. I haven’t been riding in so long I have no idea where anything is. I put on some water to boil for tea. The pups are sound asleep on the floor. They usually come in to visit for awhile after all the animals are fed and put up for the night before they go back to work. They can sleep through anything. I have literally rammed into them with the vacuum cleaner and not gotten so much as a twitch. The tea pot starts to softly whistle and both dogs are on their feet and in the kitchen with breath taking speed. I’ve never seen ANYTHING move that fast. They have the most amazing selective hearing. I begin to laugh as I recall another incident where they demonstrated this trait.

It was another night when Randy was late. I was terribly bored and was playing around on the internet, chicken shopping. Yes, I did say chicken shopping. I have to mail order chickens via internet from a hatchery if I want new ones. There is a website that has pictures of baby chicks who usually look nothing whatsoever like the adult version. Curious to know what one breed looked like in infancy, I innocently clicked the video link. 

Little chicks began to peep winsomely and the next thing I knew, my laptop went FLYING backwards out of my hand and 2 large white monsters were standing atop me, frenziedly looking for the chicks who were now in danger from my big RED dog who was hunting them in order to play. Desperate to reach them first, lest Cider abuse them, Cletus dug his nose into the pillows of the couch, under my leg, behind my back and on over the top of me. He rolled me around with his 120 lb frame like I was a walnut. As he neared the computer which had rocketed out of my hands when they made impact, he tilted his head in astonishment. Bruno was playing front guard to Cider, who was certain the chicks were in a brazier light over my head and continued to defy Bruno and climb his way up to find them. They were all relentless in their missions until I was finally able to reach out and click off the computer and close the peeping video.

You’ve just got to appreciate a good work ethic!

Next morning I got up and the world outside was white with frost, frozen in time and sprinkled with icy diamonds. Even inside my little rock house I could feel the crispness of the air. I shuffled to the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee and I saw the pups are out front. I am somewhat curious, as they are usually just coming back home at this time and ALWAYS come to the back door. I halloo them and they begin wagging  their bodies in joyful anticipation. I walk around to the front door and as I throw it open expecting two big white fluffy dogs, instead I am looking at SIX white wooly bodies in front of them...SHEEP! The sheep all got out and made their way out of the pastures to my front yard and the pups are there protecting them. I quickly close the door in their faces, run back with my coffee hoping that if I cannot see them, they aren’t really there. I hear them all bumping into the door on their way across the porch. I contemplate getting dressed to move everyone back to their rightful spots. It’s too early in the morning for me to think, much less react.

By the time I had on a sweatshirt over my PJ’s and some shoes, the front yard was empty. I walked a little way and saw the pups up by the horse trailers in front of the big barn. Sure enough, a little wooly head stuck its face out the door in the saddling area of the barn. 

I trotted back and opened the large gate to the sheep pasture. It’s between their night pasture and a large corral, with gates and alleys leading elsewhere. Once done, I walked through the sheep pasture to the small gate in front which we almost never use. I propped it open, stepped out front with my flake of hay and hollered 

“Hey SHEEPIES!!!”

Eight heads turned in my direction. The barn is several hundred yards away, but the two pups and 6 sheep all saw me clearly. To my horror, the sheep started a mad dash towards me, the pups pumping their legs to keep up. I did a rapid about-face and made it through the gate just about the time the thundering herd arrived. Like the ghost of Pistol Pete Maravich, I threw the flake of hay towards a feed tire on the ground and sank it. The mob thundered past me and I slowly let out my breath. Another wreck avoided. The pups walked up to acknowledge me and we all congratulated one another on a job well done. Ice chunks were melting off of their heavy white coats as I hugged them and we all headed to the house so they could veg out and I could have my cup of coffee where it was warm. The sheep? They stayed and devoured their breakfast and I’m not certain, but it’s just possible that wild & wooly MamaCass might be having her lambs today. She is kind of slab sided and not nearly as large as yesterday so the lambs could be dropping into the birth canal. Time will tell.

December Morn

last September

There are ice crystals blanketing everything and the water troughs are frozen, except for those that we have put heaters in. The world is quiet and the animals huddle, waiting for their breakfast. The pups have just come back from their patrol. It’s been very quiet the past several nights, unlike a few weeks ago when we heard coyotes everywhere. The Maremmas have been busy keeping everything at bay so our little band of sheep and goats can venture out safely. 

There is a new couple on the ranch. He is a trapper and carpenter by trade. He has been helping reduce the unusually high coyote population. Bruno was late coming home one morning. That is because an old horse was humanely destroyed out on the ranch and that drew lots and lots of coyotes. The coyotes drew Bruno. Because the coyotes were all around, Cletus stayed with the sheep and did not know Bruno ventured out alone to run off the intruders and got caught in the trap. The guy felt just awful about it. Bruno allowed the guy to free him but wasn’t about to get in his truck. He came to get us and Randyman took me a couple miles down the road to where Bruno was limping along next to the guys wife. They are very nice people and had no idea the pups would range that far. I don’t believe they normally do, but that is where the threat was.  Bruno is none the worse for wear, his foot was swollen and sore, but he went to work that night. The guy has since moved all his traps further to the south and across the road at the base of the mountains. Bruno seems to have things back under control again. I have  heard no coyotes and very little barking, which means, nothing has been crossing their perimeter. I am grateful I have socialized these dogs to the point I have. Being as remote as we are, human predators are not a concern for us. Had I not introduced Bruno to this guy the night before, the chances are much higher that Bruno would have been more seriously injured. As it is, these dogs are intelligent enough to make good judgement calls.

The chickens are fluttering around in their run, waiting for me to set them free. I throw them a large chunk of cheese that wasn’t up to par. Most of my hard cheeses have not been what I had hoped, I think because of the trouble I am having controlling temps. Once making Christmas gifts are not taking up so much of my time I will go back to making cheese. At least the dogs and chickens are happy with my failures. There are 12 gallons of milk in the fridge again, and 9 that I have to skim heavy cream off of. That will give me another gallon and a half of heavy whipping cream to make butter, or ghee or whatever. Its good to know that Emma will continue to gift us with this, until we dry her off, next May. There are several cartons of fresh eggs in the extra fridge, as the little hens are giving me 4-5 a day even in this cold weather. I can’t eat store bought eggs anymore. The watery whites, weak shells and anemic looking yolks just have to stay on the plate, as I cannot choke them down anymore. There is no flavor to them. I thank my God for the opportunity to eat fresh food, as there are many who are not so fortunate. 

Being here, hours from people, without pavement, cars, sirens, the need to lock everything, complaining neighbors, competition, consumerism and claustrophobia that comes from being in crowded conditions with horizon to horizon concrete buildings is a relief I cannot even begin to express. To enjoy all that nature has to offer in this place,  watching a hawk lazily riding the air currents, rising higher and higher, watching the quail grow from fuzzy little marbles with legs to full grown fat, sassy birds with their little floppy topknots, to see the grass go through its changing of seasons, from brilliant green to tawny gold, watching birds like the trumpeter swans, the egrets, the Canadian honkers, and a myriad of others come and go, is an immense gift. Being able to ride out on the ranch and see the deer and antelope grazing alongside cattle, waking up to see big bucks and does cleaning up the fallen apples on the lawn next to the house, having the time to ponder the shape of the puffy clouds and watch the lightening that splits the sky over and over, these are the things that make up the rhythm of my life. Listening to the music of the milking machine or a stream of goatmilk pinging the bottom of my steel bucket, raucious bird calls, the snorting of horses or the egg song of a hen are some of the melodies that carry me through a day.

I skim the cream from 9 gallons of milk and gather half a dozen fresh eggs from the coop. I crack one in the pan and it looks nothing like a commercial egg. The yolk is bright orange and stands up tall, with a white that does not spread. It's flavorful and I appreciate having them. I cut out the biscuits made with buttermilk left over from making butter of EmmaLou's cream. They rise up flakey and soft and my mouth waters, thinking of the just made butter and homemade apricot jam that I will smother them with.  After milking and cleaning up, I toss in a load of laundry and wash it with a mix made with my own soap. It's lightly scented of lavender and makes a monotonous chore more palatable. I visit with the Maremma pups and they fawn over me as if they've not seem me for ages. Christmas cookies are ready to come out of the oven. Hopefully someone makes a trip to town soon, as I am out of ingredients to make the next batch.

I think about the sweet recipients and I smile.

I have to decide on something for dinner and gaze at the venison, homegrown chicken, beef and lamb in the freezer. I settle on a roast from last years spring lamb.

I put potatoes in with it and the smell of fresh garlic and rosemary permeate the air and stimulate my appetite. A loaf of fresh, hot bread and green beans will finish off the meal and we will be well fed and sated as the sun disappears from the horizon. I feel a warmth envelope me, like all is right with my world...and it is.

It's like having a foot in paradise.

Butter Blunders

This is what happened when I told EmmaLouMoo ...

"I have to go to town and BUY butter."

Its that time of year. I always make Christmas cookies to send to my son and his family. EmmalouMoo has been very generous and has been giving me 1/2 gallon of heavy cream daily, along with 3 gallons of milk. Because of this, I have LOTS of homemade butter in my freezer.

I found that you cannot make cream puffs with homemade butter. I found you cannot make chocolate eclairs with homemade butter. They do not rise. Apparently there is a lot of water in commercial butter, which is what causes the puffs to rise, so just to get by, I borrowed some commercial butter to make them until I have both the time and the patience to experiment with how much water I have to add, and just how exactly I will go about it.

I found that sugar cookies don’t do so well with homemade butter, when I wound up with a couple dozen buttcrack cookies.

Today, I discovered that you also cannot make shortbread cookies with home made butter. I mean...you CAN, but they don’t resemble the intended results at all. They are very wide, flat, shapeless and delicate. They are however, incredibly tasty. There is a definite difference in the flavor between using my homemade butter and commercial butter. Everyone on the ranch has been coming in to grab a cookie. The failures should be gone soon.

I must experiment until I find out wether to add less butter, more flour, or both. Or if something else is needed to stablize the cookies. I refuse to be defeated. After all, there was a time when all there WAS to use was good, homemade butter. There must be a secret.

Meantime, Christmas is coming and my kids are waiting for cookies.