I've often heard people discuss "fence rows" and that "riding the fence line" was just one of those things you do when you have a farm. Now I get it.
It's was 6am and the house phone rang. That never happens. The house phone is a number we don't give out and honestly it's there so I can fax stuff when I need to. The dreaded call came letting us know "your cow is out of the fence".
So we, of course, imagined the worst. We just knew she was standing in the middle of the road at dawn just begging someone to top the hill and hit her. She wasn't. She was in my in-laws yard foraging and leaving a trail of fertilizer everywhere she went. The problem arose when she discovered and devoured the 30 pounds of feed sitting on the carport waiting to be fed to the hogs the next morning.
Poor Ella got what they call the "scours". Of course we didn't realize this until she was actually in the throes of it. She developed a severe case of diarrhea and began getting dehydrated (producing very little milk). Us being good cow parents, pulled out the book we always consult, "The Family Cow" and hit the chapter on illness full throttle. We started reading about "overeating disease" and how that can cause all manner of life-threatening maladies and go ahead and take your cow to the butcher to at least salvage the meat. At that point I was freaking out, that our beloved Ella, our gorgeous designer cow, was about to become spaghetti sauce and taco meat.
With much drama, I was sent flying to Tractor Supply to "get something for her", but no clue what. Lesson learned, do not put the life of your cow in the hands of retail sales clerk. They don't know squat, nor do they care.
Meanwhile back on Toy Ridge, George and his daddy were plotting to give her a fist sized pill. My question was "what's it supposed to treat?" The answer I got, "don't know, it's something Youngblood got from the feed store." Again I ask "what's the package say?" The answer "it's not in a package, it's in an old seed sack." You do not want to know how the rest of that conversation went! #@!&$#
Long story made even longer, Ella survived by simply being put on a full hay diet and nothing else for a few days. In the end, we thank God and Google for saving Ella from "overeating disease". - Melissa
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She has been petted, pampered and hand-fed since she arrived at our farm at 8 weeks old. 400lbs and 2 years later she is about as laid back and easy going as they come, she enjoys being moved from pasture to pasture and doesn't mind being separated (for a little while) from her piglets. But..... there is nothing more impressive than a mad momma pig!!
I've been told that these large sows are dangerous etc etc and I finally witnessed that raw aggression I've been warned about. Due to unforeseen circumstances, Linda and her 9 piglets ended up being in the same pasture as 3 male hogs about to go to the processing plant. Long story short they would not leave her alone. She would lay down to feed her babies and those 3 males would come up and nose around on her girlie parts and knock the babies around. It lasted about an hour and finally she could no longer take it. If you aren't aware of it, pigs are fast as lightening. I used to think they were these lumbering dumb fat beasts. OH NO! Let me tell you, they are pure muscle, amazingly agile and incredibly fast! I digress..... So Linda finally had enough......she went from laying down nursing her babies to getting up, slinging 9 piglets out of the way and going after those 3 males in 2 seconds flat! I've now seen baby pigs fly! She slammed one of those male pigs into a tree, pinned him there with her shoulder and began beating him with her head! He was squalling like a baby and that tree was shaking like crazy. Of course those 2 other males beat feet in the other direction. She finally let him go and he was not seen again for a while. We moved her about an hour later, put her babies with her (which is a whole other long story.....my ears are still ringing from the deafening squeals of baby pigs being picked up) and everyone is much happier. Linda will be pleased to know those males have arrived safely at the butcher. -- Melissa "Oh my! That's REALLY good! I think you ought to do it that way every time!"
(Mary-Catherine's opinion on how home cured, pecan and sassafras smoked bacon tastes.) If you've never cured your own bacon, it's really easy to do. The only tricky part is getting it smoked once it's cured. We use an old phone booth for that purpose, although I do plan on building a proper smoke house one day. That said, if any of our pig customers would ever like to cure their own bacon but don't have a smoke house, I'd be happy to put your bacon in with mine. -- George Cooking out lard! It's one of those childhood memories I hold dear. When it was hog-killin time, there were only a couple jobs us kids were trusted with. One was scraping the hair off the hog and if you haven't ever done that, let me tell you, it is no fun at all. The other was cutting up the fat to cook out lard. Being a normal male-child, handling a knife sharp enough to inflict a wound sufficient to require several stitches, was an irresistible draw.
The actual cooking of the lard, though, was a skill far beyond anything a kid would ever be entrusted with. That task was reserved for the most experienced man among us that wasn't yet too old and feeble for the job. In other words, the lard was too important to be entrusted to any man less than the star of the show. I eventually grew up, my daddy quit killing hogs at home and we lost the annual tradition of the hog-killin. I matured, got married, had a bunch of kids and found myself wanting to recreate and pass on some of those things I held dear from my own childhood. Towards that end, I have done many things, but eventually, and frequently thereafter, I wanted to learn how to process our own pigs at home. Having done one now, I realized that this process is such a big undertaking that I needed to back up and learn each step of the process in a more relaxed way before jumping in again whole hog. One of the things that I have learned to do is cook out lard. I've not yet done it in a big, cast-iron wash pot like my forefathers did, although I hope to some day. Instead I cheat and use a crock pot. It's SO easy! Here's how you do it: Start early in the morning. Take your fat out of the freezer. Let it thaw for about 15 minutes. Cut it into chunks about 1" square. Put a half cup of water in a crock pot. Turn the crock pot on "high." Put the chunks of lard into the crock pot. Put the lid on the crock pot. Set a timer for one hour. Stir every 30 minutes. When the timer goes off after 1 hour, turn the crock pot on low and remove the lid. At the end if the day, strain the lard which by now has separated from the "cracklins" through a cheese cloth into the container of your choice. Let the liquid cool. BAM! You have the world's finest cooking oil. -- George Thinking its the perfect day for a sweet potato pie, I told her so. She quickly let me know that it was a white potato pie. So not as excited as I started out, I waited. She even made one especially for me without the crust/gluten. It was good! Not as good as our usual sweet potato pie, but come on....it's still pie. The recipe book she used is a 30 year old Southern Living cookbook. It stated: Lowly ingredients never deterred the Southern cook from having a pie when the family clamored for one. Pies utilizing beans or Irish potatoes sometimes have "Poor Man's...." in the title.... 2 medium potatoes, cooked, peeled, and mashed 2/3 cup butter 1 cup sugar 1/2 tsp baking powder 1/8 tsp salt 1/2 cup whipping cream 1/2 cup milk 2 tsp grated lemon rind 2 T lemon juice 2 tsp vanilla extract 1/8 tsp ground nutmeg 4 eggs, beaten 1 unbaked 9" pie crust Combine potatoes, butter, sugar, baking powder, and salt in a medium mixing bowl: mix well. Gradually add whipping cream and milk, stirring until well blended. Stir in lemon rind, juice, vanilla, and nutmeg. Add eggs, mix well. Pour mixture in pastry shell; bake at 350 degrees for 55 minutes or until knife comes out clean. Serves 8. Hope you enjoy. -- Melissa Since we bought our milk cow, we have been overwhelmed by the inquiries on all things DAIRY. I have had many friends and family join me in the butter making process and even more partake of the wonderful products that come from Ella, our beloved Guernsey. I have recently started journaling via photos and videos all that I do with our raw milk. Here is my first creation: Here are the links to the supplies I use in our raw milk processing: Beverage dispenser >> Click HERE Stainless steel spigot >> Click HERE Mesh Strainer >> Click HERE My favorite straining cloths, new diapers >> Click HERE Half-gallon Ball Jars that we could not do without >> Click HERE Comment below with questions and/or comments. -- Melissa "In 2012, 1,000 calories’ worth of healthy food cost approximately $12, while 1,000 calories of unhealthy food only cost an average $4." I'd be willing to wager on two things: 1. This gap is wider now and is going to grow ever wider for the rest of our lives. 2. This study did not consider the cost of products bought directly from farmers but rather "heathy" versus "unhealthy" choices available from grocery stores. What's interesting from my perspective is that while there has been a consistent and rapid increase in grocery store prices over the past few years, the price of feed has remained perfectly consistent for at least the past two years. At To y Ridge Farms, our prices are a function of our per pound feed costs so the prices we charge our customers have remained flat. -- George Source: http://sorendreier.com/for-many-healthy-foods-are-getting-too-pricey/ Gus was notorious for worrying everything in the pasture. No matter how many corn stalks Youngblood cut and threw over the fence, Gus would always eat on the same cornstalk as some other animal. While doing so, he was incessantly hooking the other animal with his horns. First he'd worry a pony. Next he'd worry a heifer. Next he'd worry a nanny goat. Next he'd be back worrying a pony. Now mind you, this was the same goat I tried to kill because he was so aggressive towards feed that I couldn't even dump scraps over the fence because he would jump up on the fence and intercept the pot. It was during one such moment when I tried to kill him. Momma had sent me to dump scraps over the fence and the fool met me one too many times. He was completely preventing me from being able to dump a pot of scraps. Scraps contained in my momma's good rice pot. The same pot that out of frustration I tried to hit him square in the face with. I swung it like a club. He saw it coming, ducked his head just enough and caught he full force of the blow on the base of one of his horns. The force of the blow caused the handle to snap off. The pot full of scraps went tumbling into the pasture and the fool chased it down and started eating scraps as if such the whole scene had been part of a sinister, master plan. I loathed that damn goat. He aggravated his way into utter domination over every animal in the pasture. Until . . . Youngblood had cut a bunch of corn stalks down and threw them over the fence to feed all the calves, ponies, goats and hogs. Gus was being his usual self, only eating on a stalk or ear that something else was already eating on even though there were plenty of stalks of corn he could have had to himself. First he worried a pony. Then a calf. Then another pony. This went on for a couple weeks. Everything tried to avoid the fool but he was so not to be denied his chief pleasure in life. On the fateful day, Youngblood fed as usual and Gus was acting as usual. Worrying each animal in turn. None escaped his attention. And then he gave his attention to the only animal that ever successfully taught that fool a lesson. We had all walked away and didn't get to see what actually happened next. But when we heard a goat screaming like it was being eaten alive, we all thought, "Something is killing that damned Billy. Yipeee! Let's all go watch!" We ran back to the pasture just in time to see Gus (who was solid white) topping the hill in a full sprint while Maxine stood protectively astride her stalk of corn, with ears flopped over her eyes and a large tuft of white fur extruding from all sides of her mouth. She gave a single grunt that for all the world sounded like, "Hmmmph. Now let that be a lesson to you." And she went back to her stalk of corn without a care in the world. I think it was then that my like of hogs turned to love. Unfortunately the goat didn't die. Unfortunately Gus continued to be an aggravation to everything in the pasture save one animal: Maxine. -- George For the past two years, George has had our two oldest daughters in "cooking school." We homeschool and do a lot of cooking so this was a fairly easy task. Our four youngest children can cook eggs or make grilled cheeses, but the 15 and 16 year olds have been in more intensive training; we sometimes call it Culinary Boot Camp. They have learned much that I will eventually post about, but perhaps the coolest thing they've learned was taught to them by their grandmother - how to make and can jams, jellies and preserves. Over the course of the growing season, we picked blueberries, figs, plums, pears, and mayhaws. With each harvest, a class would follow. They would take their trusty recipe notebooks and walk over to their grandmother's house. There they would spend the day learning, start-to-finish, how to preserve the harvest. I know they will cherish these times spent with their grandmother for a lifetime. I love that they are learning an important skill that will follow them for a lifetime and will hopefully be handed down to the next generation. --Melissa |