Farm Friday

It has been a very eventful week on the farm.  Saturday and Sunday were beautiful - in the 70s, which was record breaking for this area.  We visited a town called Floyd, which is about an hour and a half away.  An issue of Organic Gardening describes Floyd a place with "a mighty ambition:  to become self-sustaining.  Beyond the creative economy and tourism it draws, Floyd has plans to process and distribute agricultural products, train a new generation of organic farmers, and generate the energy it needs."  There is even an organization - Sustain Floyd - that is working to that end.  We had a delicious lunch at Oddfellas Cantina & Tapas Bar.  It's sign includes a farmer, a businessman, and a hippie which represents the cooperative nature of the the town.  Ah, if only our area was so forward thinking.  Instead, we're fighting those who think extracting uranium from the area for about 10 years is the way of the future.  

On Sunday, we had mixed blessings.  Nine kids were born - all happy and healthy.  Unfortunately, our guard dog Joey started showing signs of poor health on Friday and went downhill from there.  He passed away Sunday afternoon, basking in the sun in the pasture and among the goats that he loved and protected.  If all dogs go to heaven, I'm sure he's up there frolicking with Miracle.

Joey hogging the bale of hay that was put out for the goats.

Joey looking well-groomed and handsome.

Joey with Miracle at his side.

Another shot of Miracle with her adopted "mama" Joey.

Monday the weather changed drastically and it rained nonstop until last night, when the rain turned to snow.  We had more kids born, the most recent this morning.  Unfortunately, we lost four babies.  Three were born overnight in the cold, wet pasture and hypothermia took them.  The fourth was from a mama who gave birth to one kid but couldn't quite deliver the second.  We had to intervene and so I took on the role of goat midwife.  The baby was born, weak but alive, so we left him with his mother.  The next morning we found him in the same spot, having been neglected by his mother.  We brought him into the house and cleaned and warmed him.  It seemed that he would recover but that evening he regressed and we lost him overnight.  We've finally come to realize that the mama goats instinctively know which babies will survive and which won't.  We've never taken in a rejected kid that actually survived.  It's a cold, hard fact of life.

Last night we lost power.  Thank goodness for our generator and gas log fireplace so we didn't suffer like many did.  The power returned about 12 hours later.  Here's what greeted us this morning:

 

Have a great weekend!