Bluetop

 This is a weed locally called Blue top. It is also known as Billy goat weed due to the smell when crushed. When we moved in here the fields were very horse sick and rank with blue top.

At first it really bugged me for some reason. I spent hours with the scythe cutting it down in great swathes. Over time it has slowly disappeared from the fields as the soil condition improved. Blue top and bracken are both good indicators of problem soil. The main solution was to ensure the soils were grazed properly, meaning get rid of the bloody horses. I now take care to spell the fields between grazing every few months and to allow time for the pasture to go to seed at least once every two years. 

 

The blue top does not worry me any more as I have come to realize it has its place even though it is a feral weed. It even has its uses, the cattle appear to use it as an occasional medicinal herb and the early settlers to this area also apparently used it as a poultice on wounds for its mild antiseptic qualities.

Feeding, fattening and economics

 Fattening stock for meat always requires special care to the feeding. You cannot simply throw a few handfuls of pellets to your piglets and expect to get good, or cheap, pork. Frankly the cost of shop bought fattening mixes would give you anything but cheap pork! We like our livestock to free range wherever possible but when fattening for meat we must also supply a lot of extra food.

In the case of our meat chickens we have been experimenting for several years with various mixes at various costs. For a while I was able to get some high-protein mix to mix in with millrun and cracked corn. It fattened the birds admirably when it was available, and there is the problem- because we could not always get it.
So this year we have been making this mix of:

2 parts millrun,
2 parts cracked corn,
1 part whole soy meal,
1 large handful of shell grit
1 big glug of vegetable oil.

Mix it all together and the chooks love it! Unfortunately it is still an added cost to the feed bill that we would rather do without. So I have determined that timing is the issue here.

For about one third of the year we have more milk than we can easily use. At the end of winter to mid summer the potato growers are processing their crop and I can get free discard potatoes by the tonne.
Milk and boiled potatoes is an old fattening recipe for both pigs and fowl! Boil a huge pot of potatoes overnight, enough for both feeding times the next day. In the morning add your leftover milk, buttermilk or whey to the cooled potatoes. Give it a bit of a stir-come-mush-up, dont be too fiddly about it and serve. Stand back as in my experience the livestock will take a flying tackle into the feed trough for this meal!
If I could I would also add boiled whole barley but alas this is not a barley growing district and it costs much more than I would care to pay. A little cracked corn serves well as a substitute. So with the next batch of pigs to fatten, we shall also fatten a batch of meat chooks at the same time and on the same diet. Make sure the pigs get to roam and dig in their paddocks and make sure the chooks get a great armload of greens each day also. The result is excellent meat at the cost of some labour and little else.

Seasons change- the spring update.

The weather is warming although we still have the doona on the bed. A bit early by my reckoning but the plants have all decided to get a go on so what would I know?

 

The peaches have all had a good winter and were thick with blossom for a week. Now they are covered with small green peaches. Each year we enter into a contest with the king parrots to see who gets the most fruit.  Last year we were soundly beaten. One day I will investigate netting tents for the trees.

 Bonnie, our soon to be cow, is heavily pregnant. She is in training getting ready for milking. I have always found that a first time milker is becomes easier to handle with good training *before* she calves. Bonnie has a very impatient nature. Here she is craning her neck over the fence and around the corner of the feed shed to see how her feed bucket is coming along.

 I fired up the incubator a while back in an effort to increase our flock of Rhode island reds. Normally I prefer to let a broody hen do the job but unfortunately none of the girls were in the mood. Egg fertility remains an issue with a very poor hatching rate of about one in ten. I may have to give the girls a cosmetic clipping in certain areas so the rooster has a better chance of hitting the target- if you get my drift. Makes for an undignified looking flock I must say.

 The next big project we are working on is the dreaded hothouse. A project that has been put aside for a year or so for various reasons, now back in the queue. I had the veggie garden shelved off a couple of years back. It has now been left fallow this season so I can begin getting the uprights in. Above you can see my survey pegs all measured out correctly, half a days work for two people. The end structure will consist of two fifteen meter tunnels side by side. Each tunnel is six meters wide and about four high or so. It will be quite a project.

 The pigeons are out and about. They are breeding well and appear to be quite confident fliers. So far no attacks by raptors or egg thieving by crows. The child bride has hung two CDs outside the entrance to the loft where they flicker and turn in the wind. It appears to be working, could it really be this simple?

My ever present doggie companion. Woof.

Winter chores

One of the winter chores I quite enjoy is cutting firewood. Once every couple of months we will go down to the dry lands and load the truck with fallen timber for the fire. I like to keep it in long lengths as it is a lot easier to tie down. It will also stay drier in the rain if it is left long. Blocked up (cut into short rounds) it will soak through quickly. Either way we prefer to store the cut timber undercover on the rack outside the kitchen door.

To save my back I like to use a saw horse when blocking the lengths. Made from timber it is kinder on the chainsaw blade if I slip. When it finally becomes a little too old for use it becomes firewood itself. The bolts are reused for the next 'horse. Most times I make one out of rough timber in the round, picked up when we get the firewood. This year I made one from sawn timber. It works just as well as the others but does not look as good in my opinion.
Once blocked and stacked, the timber is split with an axe or sometimes with a steel wedge and a sledge hammer. This is Australian hardwood we are using here! This can be a lot of work but on a cold winters day I find it quite enjoyable and a good workout for a somewhat tubby old guy.

What are you?

"What are you?" I was recently asked. A very Zen sort of question I thought and proceeded to give one of my usual smart arse replies. However, the young man appeared unsatisfied with my answer and explained that he meant to ask what sort of farmer I was? Was I "into" permaculture, organics, green living or self sufficiency for example?

I replied that I was none of these things.

So let me make it clear. I consider myself a farmer. I grow food, real food, for my family. I do not use modern chemicals or fertilizers. Nor do I use modern high production methods for profit. I do use natural fertilizers and sprays I make myself. I make my own compost and keep nutrients on the farm. I know all of my animals and ensure their quality of life. I farm in a manner mankind has been using successfully for thousands of years!
I therefore call myself a farmer as opposed to the modern farming I refer to as "Chemical agriculture" which I believe is one of the greatest ills to beset the modern world.
I am not a Permaculturalist or Organic farmer. I do not follow the Green path or whatever name it has this week, I am not into Holistics and I am not self sufficient. We do not need any silly label for our lifestyle. I am a farmer, nothing more, and damned proud of it!

The milking stall explained

A little while ago a young lady asked me about keeping a house cow. The lady wants to "get into" permaculture (whatever that is) but was worried about the chore that is milking every day.

The milking stall is one of those oddly special places in my heart. It is center to our daily ritual of the morning and evening chores. Although it can be a burden at times I also find the milking to be a time of quiet meditation. I watch the birds and listen to the milk gently hissing into the bucket. In the background I can hear the pigeons cooing and thrumming as the boys dance for the girls. Rufus will lean through the rails to groom Bonnie, our other cow. In the far background I will hear the call of the crows in winter or possibly the long shrieking cry of a lone eagle high above on a still morning. In summer I will be entertained by the song of the red rump finches as they steal the chooks feed or else the lazy call in descending notes of the King parrots as they perch in the pines and wait for me to leave before raiding the chooks trough. In the wet season the rain will create that throbbing note on the tin roof that we know so well and Anna and I will be joined by numerous guinea fowl and chooks in the milking shed where it is dry. On these days it can be a real task to keep the chickens from fluffing up the straw and throwing bits in the milk for me to fish out. Sometimes it can be a task just to keep the chooks themselves out of the milk.

The milk itself has a most wonderful aroma of cream and the faint scent of the pasture. It is unlike anything you can experience anywhere but the milking shed. In winter a fragrant steam rises off the new milk for me to inhale. A foamy froth is created on the surface as the milk rises in the bucket. My mother loves to see this, it reminds her of her milking days and when she visits she always asks to look into the milking bucket.

I am usually visited by the cat, Jasmine. She likes to rub across my back and under my arms. She is drawn always to the scent of the fresh milk and loves a drink of the whole milk when new but will only drink the cream if it is older.

At the center of this world there is Anna, our house cow. She is a part of the family in every way. I know her better than I know some of my relatives. She is kind and quite affectionate yet can be quite stern if she does not like something. She does not like being patted but does like being milked. She enjoys close company without needing contact and quite likes to listen when I discuss the world. She likes to eat at her own pace and only eats her fill and no more. She is quite strong willed and does not give in easily if she does not want to do your bidding. She prefers a polite request and will sulk if her feelings are hurt. I like her a lot more than most humans I have met.

Through the eyes of my child

We did the beef cut up a few weeks ago. As I would not be able to handle the camera due to mucky hands I gave it to my son instead. After a quick tutorial we left him to it to see what he would do. So here is the view from my sons world.

This last photo is my absolute favourite.
I learned many things from these pictures when I discussed them with my son. Highlights include:

1. Daddy is a huge giant with a booming voice. He is mostly composed of trousers and gumboots with a red bushy beard on top. Lets me do lots of stuff mum doesn't.
2. What is in a bucket is really interesting and has to be photographed often.
3. Patterns on the floor are interesting.
4. Focus is optional.
5. The dogs are easier to photograph if they are first sternly ordered to sit and stay.
6. Peoples heads are optional when framing a picture.
7. I can look into the camera to make sure it is working. This has nothing to do with there being seven hundred pictures of myself  up close...