Website updates

My main farm site, www.capralane.com is nearly updated. Photos, pedigree info and breeding plan are posted, a few little sections need editing, but things are coming along.

We should welcome the first kids in early February with an explosion later in the month. As I write this I realize I just bred 6 does in 24 hours. And then I banged my head on the table.

A comedy of errors - Part 2

When it rains, it pours, right? Two nights ago while doing chores, we noticed one of our turkeys was "off ". As in near-death, "off". A google search later, we fed electrolytes and antibiotics and quarantined the sick bird, who had some runny poop but healthy skin, clear eyes, no respiratory issues, a mystery. The morning greeted us with not one dead turkey, but two. . .

The lone survivor. We're going to give this one a little time to make sure it isn't ill as well, then get one more for company. 

It will be a mystery, whatever illness reached them, it acted fast with no symptoms until about 12 hours before death. We've had a good track record so far, considering poultry diseases are not easily diagnosed or treated. We can always have chicken on Thanksgiving! If this guy doesn't make it, we won't be adding anything else to this pen this year.


With all the harebrained things we take on, the daily routine can sometimes be a little harrowing. Work has been more challenging than usual and changing healthcare trends aren't helping matters.

Part of commuting means I'm often the last home, and I don't often get to spend much time on dinner. Last week I had an earlier day than normal and planned to take full advantage of it. I love to cook, and I like to think I'm fairly skilled at it. So what I did next I can only describe as:

im·bro·glio

imˈbrōlyō/

noun

1. 1.

   an extremely confused, complicated, or embarrassing situation.

   "the Watergate imbroglio"

   synonyms:

   complicated situation, complication, problem, difficulty, predicament,trouble, confusion, quandary, entanglement, muddle, mess, quagmire,morass, sticky situation

I scanned the fridge upon arriving home to find a bag of shredded hash brown potatoes on the shelf. Oh great, these had to be frozen, what can I make?? I wasn't in the mood for breakfast-for-dinner, so I decided to surprise Rog with one of his favorites that is usually reserved for holidays when someone else is cooking...cheesy potatoes, or as his family affectionately dubs them,  funeral potatoes. I didn't grow up eating much 'American' food and therefore these types of recipes aren't ingrained in my brain as they are for most people. Not that I don't like these things, I really do. I just don't know how to make them.

First rule of cooking:  collect your ingredients. Failure.

I had emptied the potatoes into a bowl and added grated cheddar cheese. So far so good. I knew from the past that they usually have cream of chicken soup in them. After scanning the pantry, twice, I realized the campbells kids weren't going to suddenly appear so I popped open a can of cream of mushroom. Close enough, right? They are all over salted, jiggly and a little creepy.

Next I added some chopped onions. And black pepper. Then I got stuck and had to admit defeat and look up a recipe. Sour cream. . . hmmmm. None to be found. In the back of the fridge I found a container of french onion dip that someone brought over for a gathering. Close enough, yet again. The butter was no problem, I would never dare run out. Into the oven it went with bated breath and crossed fingers and toes.

Sure doesn't look like mom's. Still, I refuse to accept defeat. Corn flakes!! No corn flakes here. After searching through everything crunchy my options were wheat thins, peanut butter filled pretzels or these:

Things are deteriorating by the minute. I quickly crushed up a handful and tossed them in the pan before Rog pulled in the drive. To overcompensate I grilled a big sirloin, taking care to mark it with impressive geometric grill marks to detract from my assumed potato failure.

And then I made kale chips. I'm really good at making those and they look "fancy".

And then it was the moment of truth.

Really stinking good. All the chuckling, head shaking, lip biting at my sorry attempt to create one of Rog's favorites, and it was really quite tasty. Packed full of fat and artificial things but by golly, I had cheesy potatoes!

I took this really nice picture of the sedum and sea oats while I was grilling. Plant photos are an excellent distraction for a naturalist. He certainly wouldn't be upset if I made crappy potatoes, but he certainly would ridicule me at family dinners for years to come, for example the shortbread cookie incident of 1997 that we still relive from time to time.

Waiting for breeding season to be over, hoping the turkey will be ok in the morning, hoping the wall in the buck barn holds up and we don't have an unwanted 'visitor' in the does pasture.

Can I learn to love one of these?

Hmmmm. . . 

Charming isn't really the right word. . . 

Update: The other turkey croaked too. Recently we talked to another turkey grower in our area and he had widespread losses this year too, and I ran it by a vet-friend who offered - "What do you do with a sick turkey? Kill the rest."  Probably a pretty accurate statement. Although I mourn the loss of my fresh Thanksgiving turkey, I'm not exactly a bird 'fan' so I keep repeating the Adam Sandler Thanksgiving song, adding "No turkey for you, no turkey for me. . . "

And yes, we're getting a llama.

And yes, I find them a little creepy.

And yes, I'm terrified.

A comedy of errors - Part 1

I have a confession. I may have been an accessory to an assault. Claire was in heat, I'm sure of it. I only held her collar, and then a lead, and then a leg, and then two legs and then grabbed 2 other adults to help hold her down while 'Cow' had his way with her. I couldn't find it in myself to feel bad for her since I was sweating, dirty and covered in buck urine (among other things) by the time I loaded her back in the trailer.

Sweet little Claire, in her younger years, always a jumping bean. I should have known...

She had been in heat all day, flagging (tail wagging) and flirting at the fence.  I had planned to cart her 45 min away to MRKF farms to breed her to a lovely older buck named Fargo. You see, Claire hasn't been out of the barn since she was a young kid, so she was a little freaked out about her 'date'. I knew we were in for trouble when I walked her over to the love-shack and she tucked her tail under and started curling into herself and looking for a way out. No flagging, no flirting, just sheer terror. 30 minutes of wrestling, flipping, deer-like leaping, twisting, crying and flailing later, I had surrendered and Fargo fell out of love.

Luckily, there was another impressively pedigreed buck available, a young striking holstein-esque buckling fittingly named 'Cow'. Hoping Claire would be less intimidated by a smaller buck, we introduced them, only to have the same result. 3 adults, two goats and the goats were winning 10:1. After yet another struggle, the humans (and Cow) prevailed and I hoisted her back on to the trailer. Now we wait 21 days for a 'take' and hope to hell we don't have to repeat this fiasco. As I pulled out of the driveway, my phone *pinged* with an incoming message from Rog.

S  H  I  T. . . . 

Elina was also in heat, so Rog's task when I was gone was to breed her to Capone. Capone, though huge, has always been kind of a sissy but boy does he like to show off when he gets the girl. He roars with an imposing lion-like quality and focuses more on keeping the other bucks away from his prize. The buck stalls are separated by a wall of 2" x 6"s to prevent fights. Well, not any more. . .

He blasted right through it, sternum first to pick a fight with Bugs and Mickey, tearing bolts from the walls, splintering wood, sending water buckets and hay into the air with a flourish. Queen Elina just stood mesmerized in the corner, starry eyed and wondering where her soul mate disappeared to. After they got a solid fight in and exhausted themselves, Rog was able to safely separate them, them commence rebuilding the wall with 2" x 8"s this time!

Did I do that?

I arrived home, unloaded Claire, hurried to the buck barn to survey the damage and check on Capone. He was certainly a little subdued but still blubbering like a fool, beard wet with urine. A little pain shot, a quick check and we were ready to throw in the towel for the night. Over my shoulder I heard a muted maa. . . and Claire trotted up, flagging and making googly eyes at the boys, her breeding trauma forgotten. And there she stood, wagging, flagging, winking, smooching and lingering, late into the night and for the morning that followed. Just when we think we have things figured out, those pesky goats never fail to throw us for a loop.

Gone is the clean shiny coat and flowing white beard. No this isn't a golden guernsey, this is my saanen.  Yes, he was white a few short weeks ago. Yes, that is all urine. Yes, he stinks to high heaven.

Excuse me, I seem to have lost my phone number, can I please borrow yours? 

Things we do for fun

People often ask "When do you sleep?" Sure, our lives probably seem pretty hectic on paper. And much of the time, they are. Things get prioritized, ie, the lawn is mowed but the shrubs are full of weeds. The barn floor is re-stoned but the sidewalls are still clogged with cobwebs.The new sink is placed in the barn, but isn't connected to anything.

The truth is, we are now entering the 'easy' part of the year. We just went down to once a day milking. With no pigs to feed this year there's no reason to keep pushing the girls into winter, the turkeys can only drink so much. 

I haven't named them yet, like last year, I have no clue if they are male or female. Larry, Curly and Moe? Wynken, Blynken and Nod? Luciano, Placido and Jose?

It is breeding season, the boys are in full rut (rut = stink) and Luna is the first-bred of the year with more following close behind. 

Luna in love

Literally, following close behind. Hussies. . . 

Most of our free time is spent outside, so we don't watch much TV. When we do there are only 2 things we watch. 

We were late on the bandwagon on this one, but all the hype is well deserved. We have been watching on netflix to catch up from season 1, this is definitely not one to start in the middle. Too bad its in the last season now, will need a new hobby this winter. 

This is what  watch when I'm home alone on weekends for background noise when I am catching up on charts. no wonder I'm always behind.

Sometimes we take the time to sit down to a relaxing dinner. It tastes better when everything comes from the backyard. The meat birds went from coop to plate in under 24 hours, can't get any fresher than that! Zucchini (again) and shishito peppers with lime and sea salt are not too freezer-friendly so we eat them frequently. 

Whenever possible we head to Pleasant Hill Lake to spend time on our old boat 'yacht'. Good fishing, good company and the dogs get to swim. Its like a ghost town after Labor Day, so we are enjoying it.

The more frazzled we get, the more we entertain ourselves with stupid things. Like naming carrots. And giggling.

Rebel carrot- got tired of living on the straight and narrow.

Demure carrot.

Biology class carrot.

Sometimes we conquer physics and engineering with good friends.

Sometimes we focus on health food instead.

More often than not, I follow one of the animals around taking pictures.

We taught Kaelyn to eat corn off the cob when she was a puppy. A valuable life skill. 

Rosie spends all of her free time sleeping. 

Can't you just feel her beady little eyes staring right through you?

I spend a fair amount of time scanning Pinterest. I don't think very highly of the 'other' social networking sites but Pinterest is full of useful stuff. 

Like all these beautiful things I pinned to my 'Recipes and Projects for a Rainy Day' and have yet to even think about making one of them.

White peaches in rose water syrup

Slow roasted tomato, basil and goat cheese tart.

Beet jewels.

Blueberry, goat cheese and basil pies.

Often, you just have to throw in the towel. . . . and . . . Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz. . . 

Linear Appraisal

This year we signed up for a linear appraisal session, it has been 2 years since the animals were last evaluated by an official ADGA (American Dairy Goat Association) appraiser.

This is an example sheet I found online, not for one of my goats. Basically each animal is appraised on a variety of inheritable traits that should predict structural and functional durability over time as well as their potential for genetic improvement. Things like rump angle and width can help predict capacity as a milker, udder extension and ligamentous support show how a goats udder will hold up over time. Victoria doesn't make push up bras for goats, so we have to try to make genes do all the work.

There are handy dandy photo guides to help those of us who may need a little reminding. The LA session also helps us, as breeders to turn off our 'barn blindness' which sometimes makes us favor certain animals over others and helps to pull out those with hidden potential. 

I'll post official scores on the website on the pedigree pages in the next few months. We were very happy with our results overall, the vast majority of our milkers scored between 87-89, which is in the VG or very good range. Serious long-term breeders shoot for 90 and above, the E or excellent category. It's very tough to achieve, but we're getting there and we've made improvements since our last session 2 years ago, a few of our milkers went up a few points. Everyone involved learned a few things, our appraiser was very informative and complimentary. One of the ending comments was ' you've got a nice little herd here, with a lot of depth'. Overall, a great day and satisfying results. 

Being appraised meant I needed to prep and clip animals, I tried my hardest, but with a busy work week I made it about 1/3 of the way through. Still, we have a website that desperately needs updating so I begged my wonderful beautiful funny and very youthful and patient friend to come over early to help photograph goats. Photographing goats is often an exercise in futility. Bring out the camera and the normally docile animals start freaking out and scatter. As you'll remember from last years photo failures.  Here are a few new ones!

Save a horse...ride a goat.

Ooh look! My shadow looks human!

Catch me if you can!

I will twist my body into any unattractive position imaginable! I said I don't want my picture taken!

Me either! I shall hide my face.

Me too!

And the best part of the day. . .