Miles of Smiles

A few weeks ago I showed you some tomato seedlings that were growing 'volunteer' on the carrot row in the garden - in January.  I pulled them up and re-potted them.  I am determined to make them survive until it is time to plant in the garden this spring.  If I can pull this off, we'll have EARLY tomatoes.  Why, check them out.  They're really happy.  They have grown like crazy since I re-potted them.  They are 13 inches tall.  I think they are too big for the little containers I have them in.  I need to let them stretch out their roots so they don't get root-bound.

Trouble is, I don't have any bigger containers and I don't want to go buy some.  I'll just make do with something I have.  Several years ago we went to LSU Homecoming.  They were having a parade and Raisin' Cane's was throwing out a ton of Les Miles cups.  We caught a stack of them 3 feet tall.  At the time Les Miles was LSU's head football coach.  He was known for eating grass.  Even a couple of years later, he is on commercials about taking care of grass on football fields.  Les Miles is no longer LSU's football coach, so all the cups or sort of obsolete.  However, I think if ol' Les can grow grass, perhaps he can grow tomatoes.

The love for Miles, unfortunately, faded when he couldn't beat Bama and stubbornly would not modernize the offense.

So I added some good garden soil to the cups and re-potted them.  The plants were very happy to have some elbow room.  They are healthy and happy.  I put them back outside tonight.  It will be milder tomorrow and they will be happy with the sunshine.

They are weeks ahead of my other tomato seedlings I have under grow lights in the foyer that are just putting on their first true leaves.  If we can get these tomatoes to live for a month more, who knows?  We might have blooms in February and tomatoes in March.  That would be unprecedented in our garden and would bring "Miles of Smiles" to Our Maker's Acres Family Farm.

Memories of My First Duck

In 1976 I was 10 years old.  We moved from a house we lived in right smack dab in the middle of town across the street from the elementary school to a house in the country.  It was on five acres of wooded pine land.  We had lots of room to roam, build forts, make trails, explore and hide in the woods.  The five acre plot was bordered by barbed wire fence.  The surrounding property was owned by a timber company and there were no posted signs.  So in actuality we weren't limited to five acres.  It was like "Christopher Robin and the Hundred Acre Wood." Lots of elbow room and a great place to grow up.

Like Lewis and Clark, my brother and I ventured into the unknown with our imagination fueling great adventures.  Tall Longleaf pines towered over us blotting out the sun.  We discovered sassafras trees and made tea.  We found swampy areas that had mayhaw trees.  We had a Honda Z-50 mini bike and must have put 100,000 mile on that thing on trails we made in the woods.  Mom and Dad erected a cast iron bell like the Liberty Bell and they would ring it to call us back home when it was time to eat supper.  Many times we were too far out in the "Amazon" to hear.

We were too young at that time to be trusted with a 'real' shotgun, but Dad had a .410 shotgun that was perfect for knocking fox squirrels out of trees.  One day I was by myself and had traveled maybe a mile or more eastward into the backcountry.  I crossed numerous fences and was wondering if I'd be able to find my way back.  The timber company that owned the land used plows on the back of bulldozers to make fire lanes intended to slow a forest fire and protect their investment.  At worst, I figured I could follow the fire lane back to civilization.

That's when I approached what appeared to be an old abandoned rice irrigation canal that hadn't been actively used in years.  It's banks were overgrown with trees.  I didn't even know if it still held water.  It could be great habitat for ducks, I thought, even though I'd never seen any in my previous reconnaissance missions into the woods.  I dropped to my hands and knees and crept up as quiet as the congregation during the preacher's closing prayer.  The late afternoon sun warmed my back, and I remembered thinking that days don't get better than this.  It was a special time.

As I peeked over the levee, I almost wet my pants.  Six or so beautiful wood ducks dabbled in the water.  My heart beat in my chest uncontrollably.  I silently clicked the button that moved the .410 from safety to fire as I raised the shotgun.  Truthfully, I was too nervous to even aim.  In a mad fluttering of wings, the ducks heard me.  I shot in the general direction of the torrent of wings and watched as all of the ducks maneuvered in and around the tree limbs, whistling as they flew skillfully out of sight.  All but one.

One wood duck drake lay in the shallow water.  In my opinion, it is one of the most beautiful ducks on God's green earth.

The next 10 minutes were a blur.  I remembering picking up the bird, admiring it and then running as fast as I could get back home to show off my first duck.  I darted around brier bushes, around pine trees, and hurdled barbed wire fences (okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a little) to get back home.  I was so proud of my first duck.  After showing everyone the duck, I wrapped him in newspaper with his head folded under his wing so it wouldn't break off when frozen, and then brought him to a taxidermist in Ville Platte, Louisiana to be mounted.  He is still flying (in my mind, at least) on the wall in my office.  He's been flying for probably 40 years now.

Great memories of childhood and my first duck that I'll cherish forever.  Fly on, wood duck, fly on!

Getting the Onions in the Ground

During the first week of January, a package arrived at our door that I had been expecting.  Late last year I ordered 3 bundles of onion sets from Dixondale Farms in Carizzo Springs, TX.  This is my third year planting onions from them and I highly recommend them.  I ordered the Short Day Sampler which contains Red Creole Onions, White Onions, and Texas 1015 Sweet Onions.  They came in a box with instructions to take them out of the box and put them in a cool, dry place until time to plant.

The cost is reasonable and you can order online.

They send instructions on planting and care in the box, but they also email you a wealth of information to help you grow the best onions possible. 

They advise to plant pretty quickly because the earlier you plant them - the bigger they get, but the wet conditions we've had prohibited that from happening.  This past weekend was the first semi-dry time between storms, so I figured I had better get them in the ground.  A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned how we were using "metal mulch" to crowd out weeds.  In the photo below I pulled aside two rows of tin to expose soil to start planting.  You can see the area to the right has tons of winter grass, proving the tin to be successful in keeping out weeds and providing soil ready for planting.

Planting onions is easy!  You simply separate each individual bulb, poke a hole with your finger, insert the onion set and cover.  You don't want to plant any deeper than 1 inch or the onion won't bulb properly.

You want to plant the onions 4 inches apart to give them room to expand.  As soon as the onions show growth, I'll mulch all around the onions with hay to discourage weed pressure that would crowd out the onions.

I was able to enlist Russ' help to plant.  I simply made a trench about an inch deep and poured some organic garden soil.  This wasn't really necessary, but the garden itself was still very wet.  Planting directly into the garden would have been planting directly in mud and not a good idea.

When all was said and done, we had five rows of onions planted.  They take about 110 days to mature. 

As I mentioned we planted 3 bunches of onions this year.  Last year we planted 2 bunches.  A bunch contains between 50 and 75 plants.  After we harvested last year's crop, we stored them indoors in an old milk crate and were able to keep them for 6 months!  We were very pleased with their production, taste, and storage.  Hopefully we'll have another bumper crop this year!

A Cold Day for a Haircut

Benjamin is a senior in high school, so this is his last year of showing livestock.  We started showing meat goats when Laura was in school before we got the cows.  I'm thinking that was maybe 12 years ago?  We've been involved in livestock shows ever since with all three kids.  Participating at the Parish Fair, the Parish Livestock Show, District Livestock Show and then the State Livestock Show.

Each year at this time we pull out the clippers and say a prayer that they work and then start clipping.  It always seems to coincide with the first big cold snap and we feel sorry for the animals.  Here is Russ fine tuning on clipping Rosie.  It is difficult clipping around the back of the legs.

Just like at the barber shop, the area around your feet begins filling with hair that has been clipped off.  And just like at the barber shop, we sweep it all up.

It is a shame to clip them for the shows, because the animals grow a nice, warm winter coat to protect them from the cold weather - not that it gets exceptionally cold around here, but still.

That nice, warm winter coat gets clipped off to show off the sleek, angular body of the milk cows to the judges.

In the off-season we get the blades sharpened on the Andis clippers to ensure they are sharp and ready to remove the animals' thick winter coat.  We kind of hold our breath, though, because the clippers are old.  Sometimes they overheat and sometimes we have difficulty getting the blades lined up.  When the clippers are working fine, it is something to behold.  Large swaths of hair are cut from the cow with no problem at all.

As we clipped Rosie and Clarabelle, Rosie's little bull calf darted in and out our legs.  Benjamin picked him up and was horsing around with him.  He's really growing.  (Benjamin too!)

Finally, we take the halter off and put the nose pliers in so that we can clip around their head.  The cows absolutely HATE this part.  The nose pliers annoy them and the vibration of the clippers on their jaw bones aggravate them to no end.  But it must be done.

The freshly clipped cows are loaded into the cattle trailer and driven across town to the Jefferson Davis Parish Fair Grounds.  Jennings is the Parish Seat and so the Parish Livestock Show is here in town.  In a couple of weeks the Southwest District Livestock Show and Rodeo will take place in Lake Charles, Louisiana followed by the State Show in Gonzalez.

Nozy Rosie!

Here's Rosie's little bull calf in his stall the night before the show.  This is his first time away from the farm.

What a cute little fart.

Here's Rosie eating some hay out of her hay sock:

And finally, here is Clarabelle doing the same.

Unfortunately, for Benjamin's senior year and last time showing, our cows just aren't competitive.  Rosie is ten years old.  She's an aged cow and just doesn't compete well.  Clarabelle did not get bred in time to calve right before the show.  You really want to time it such that they calve a week or two before the show.  Clarabelle won't calve until the spring.  Benjamin still does very well in showmanship, though, so he looks forward to that and enjoys traveling to the livestock shows and spending time with his friends.  It is his last year to be able to participate in the livestock shows and our last year to help him prepare.  After this year, the cows will never leave Our Maker's Acres Family Farm again.

Two New Arrivals in the Chicken Yard

A friend of ours was looking to downsize their flock and asked Tricia if we'd like a couple.  Although we have too many chickens to begin with, we couldn't argue with the price and we've lost a couple lately to predators and the remainder of our flock is getting on up there in age.  It seemed like a good opportunity to add a couple replacement hens to our flock. 

Our friends put them in the pasture, but they were leery of their new feathered friends and stayed to themselves far away from the others.  In the middle of a driving rainstorm, they huddled next to the water trough, ostracized and alone.  We decided to introduce them slowly to the flock, so we put them in the chicken tractor in the backyard for a few days to let them get acclimated to their new surroundings.

The dark-colored hen, we were told is a French Cuckoo Maran.  We aren't sure of the breed of the white hen, but we were told she lays beautiful green eggs.

After a couple of days we put the newcomers into a pet carrier cage and positioned it near the barn so they could get to know the other chickens.  The other chickens came around and pecked at the new hens.  They weren't very hospitable.  The new hens acted nervous and afraid.

I would assume it would be a little intimidating to be a new arrival amongst a bunch of other hens.  Of course a new pecking order must be established.

Birds of a feather...

We let the new hens out of the cage after two more days.  They are slowly venturing out, but still mainly stay in one area, unlike the other hens that explore a 3 acre pasture.  That will come in due time.  With all the tension, the new birds hadn't laid any eggs until today.  Tricia picked up one laid by the cuckoo maran.  Our other hens are Barred Rocks, Black Stars, and Rhode Island Reds, and they all lay brown eggs.  The Cuckoo Marans lay dark brown eggs.  You can see it below on the left compared with a brown egg laid by one of our other chickens.  I think it is a pretty egg!

Marans, however, don't lay as many eggs as Rhode Island Reds or Barred Rocks, so it's not a breed to get if your goal is to get a lot of eggs.  It is a nice, dark brown egg, though.  Hopefully in a week or two our new hens will be welcomed into the flock by the other hens.

On My Honor I Will Do My Best

I rarely, if ever, post about political things.  This is not a political blog.  Our lives are infused with politics day in and day out.  It is hard to insulate oneself from the angst and animosity between the red and the blue and the left and the right.  My ramblings as I sit down and ruminate each evening are an attempt at a therapeutic pursuit to push out the noise of the dog-eat-dog world and long for simpler times in nostalgia and rural life.

Tonight I want to talk about a topic that many deem political, but I think whatever side of the political divide you find yourself on, and even if you disagree with me on some points, you'll agree that the impending demise of the Boy Scouts of America is truly sad and regrettable.

ABC News tells us:

The Boy Scouts of America is exploring a range of options to address it's increasingly shaky financial situation. Those may include declaring bankruptcy, with the more than century-old organization facing rising legal fees due to lawsuits over its handling of sexual abuse allegations.

I don't think ABC News is telling the whole story.  Boy Scouts was once a proud organization that boasted over 6 million scouts.  That figure is now at 2.4 million members and is hemorrhaging members left and right.  There is a reason for the Scouts' "shaky financial situation" and it is self-inflicted.  Boy Scouts of America was a proud institution that was part of turning many young boys into men, providing training and instilling virtues that truly made America a greater place.  It was Norman Rockwell kind of stuff.

My Dad was a Scout.  I was a Scout.  In Houston I was a Webelos Den Leader, and when we moved to Jennings, for years I was a Webelos Den Leader and Assistant Scoutmaster and spent countless hours volunteering.  My oldest son progressed in the ranks and became an Eagle Scout, Boy Scout's highest rank.  My youngest son was a Life Scout, one rank below an Eagle Scout when we all mutually decided that Scouting was no longer operating in the best interests of the boys and instead began to politicize and change everything it once stood for.  It began to be an organization at odds with its founding principles.  We didn't actually leave the Scouts.  The Scouts left us.

Benjamin's Scouting Shadow Box

It seemed as if the national leaders of scouting were sexualizing the organization and turning their backs on Christian teaching that had been part of the Scouts since its inception.  They began to admit openly gay members and leaders and then transgenders into the organization.  Next, they dropped the "Boy" from the name and began trying to attract girls.  This resulted in a costly lawsuit from the Girl Scouts of America.  It became a mere shell of what it once was.  In a textbook definition of mission drift, it left the tenets of its motto, oath and law.

We have fond memories of camp outs and hikes, campfires and mile swims, cooking outdoors and working on merit badges and Russ' Eagle project where he and his troop renovated a Crisis Pregnancy Center.  We planted trees, built rockets and shot them into the afternoon sky.  We marched in parades.  We proudly wore our uniforms to school.  We made up skits and laughed and enjoyed the camaraderie of fellow scouts.  We learned leadership as boys learned to make a budget, plan events, and encourage and motivate one another.  We sang songs in the mess hall, learned to identify trees by their leaves and how to use a pocketknife and a hatchet, how to shoot BB guns and rifles and bows and arrows, how to tie knots and identify constellations and use a compass to find your way around.

We learned first aid and citizenship and how to protect the environment and leave no trace when you were in the woods.  We canoed and fished and learned how to make a life preserver with our jeans.  We carved a Pinewood Derby race car out of a block of wood and raced it.  We applauded each other for hard work of attaining ranks and being awarded badges.  Good, moral men volunteered their time and money to teach young boys skills vital to becoming a man.  Although scouting was way more than awards, I still have most of my badges from over 40 years ago.  Here's one of them:

This is the compass from when my dad was in Boy Scouts.  Although the box is tattered and worn,

the compass within is in pristine condition and still points to true north.

While we will always cherish our memories of scouting, my boys and I lament the fact that the national leadership (despite understanding how to use a compass) lost its direction and way.  The imminent bankruptcy is not only a financial one, but it is a bankruptcy of leadership and morals by those who should have known better.

On my honor, I will do my best
To do my duty to God and my Country and to obey the Scout Law;
To help other people at all times;To keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight. 

A Final Word on Broccoli and Cauliflower

While blogging about roasting cauliflower last night, I realized that there were a few more things to be said about this delicious vegetable. It would have made the post too long, so I mentioned that I would talk about it later.  So here goes:  First is the fact that cauliflower makes one head and then it is done.  Once we pick the head of cauliflower, I trim off the leaves and feed them to the cows. 

Broccoli is a different story.  Once we pick the main head, I leave the leaves and the plant will send out shoots of new growth, producing florets that we are able to go out and pick for weeks after the initial harvest.  It is the gift that keeps on giving.  As the weather warms, you have to pick it daily or the florets will quickly turn into yellow flowers.

Yesterday I mentioned that, especially if there is a warm snap, you must be diligent about checking on your cauliflower.  I harvested the six cauliflower heads that I had allowed to grow for just ONE DAY too long.  Whereas the cauliflower yesterday was at the peak of ripeness, the ones below are a bit over-ripe and have begun to separate instead of resembling a big white snowball.  There's nothing wrong with them and they'll all be eaten and enjoyed.  They just aren't as pretty and perfect as the others.

Since we've got more than we can eat at one time, we'll blanch three of the heads.  We wash the cauliflower as sometimes stink bugs, snails, slugs and other critters will hitch hike on the plants inside.  Then we break off the florets.

We bring a pot of water to boil and drop the florets into the water, allowing it to boil for exactly 3 minutes.

Then we remove the cauliflower from the boiling water and submerge in ice water.  It is important to quickly stop the cooking process.  We leave the cauliflower in the ice water until it is ice cold.  That takes about 5 or 6 minutes.

The result is firm, blanched beautiful cauliflower.  Blanching preserves the cauliflowers color and 'crunch' and stops the enzyme action that deteriorates the texture, flavor and longevity.

Finally, we get some cleaned zip loc bags.  (No sense throwing out perfectly good zip locs if they are clean and free of holes.)  We re-label and re-use them.

These will go into our freezer and we'll enjoy cauliflower long after the season has ended.  We use the exact same procedure with broccoli.  We like to extend the harvest by putting some away in the deep freeze to enjoy later.

By Far Our Favorite Way to Prepare Cauliflower (And Broccoli)

It's been a while since I posted a recipe, but here's one that I've got to share.  It's oven roasted cauliflower (and broccoli) with garlic and oil.  Lately, we have been harvesting a lot of cauliflower.  In fact, we have so much coming in at the same time that we'll have to blanch some (more on that later!)

Cauliflower, when it is ripe, is a beautiful vegetable.  It is a full, white snowball.  I always want to pick it at its prime.  Sometimes I'll let it go a day too late, but it's still good to eat.  In the past, we'd steam cauliflower, and that is doggone good.  But, we discovered a new way to eat it that I think is superior to steamed.  In fact, with all the cauliflower coming in, we ate it three nights in a row last week and I'm still not tired of it.

A big beautiful head of cauliflower

I'll harvest the cauliflower head off of the plant, leaving the big leaves on the stalk.  I use a big knife to separate it from the stalk.

Invariably, the cows will see me in the garden and will come running to beg.  I will relent and feed them the cauliflower greens.  Those girls love fresh garden produce.  They poke their big noses over the fence and stick out their tongues...

I'll harvest the broccoli heads, too, once they've reached their zenith, but I don't feed the cows the greens from the broccoli.  I'll tell you more about that later this week.

So, to prepare oven roasted cauliflower and broccoli, simply break up heads of broccoli and cauliflower into florets.  Don't toss the stalks.  They are good eating, too!  Preheat your oven to 450 degrees.  Layer the broccoli and cauliflower on a baking sheet.  Take a quarter cup of coconut oil and drizzle over the top of the broccoli and cauliflower and toss to coat.  Liberally add sea salt and cracked black pepper and mince 5 cloves of garlic.  Sprinkle it all over the top and toss some more.  Put into the oven and roast for 15 minutes.  Stir and continue roasting for an additional 10 minutes.

Then take out and serve.  I double dog dare you not to taste before you spoon some onto your plate.

I'm convinced it cannot be done!

2018 Milk Production - By the Numbers

In the final installment of "By the Numbers" for 2018, we'll discuss milk.  During the year of 2018, we milked 3 of our cows, Rosie, Luna, and Clarabelle.  We didn't have all three of them in milk at the same time for very long.  It is hard to milk 3 cows twice a day and have any semblance of a life.  Tricia often says it would be so nice to have a milk maid.

As with rainfall and egg production, we chart milk production.  Here are figures for 2018:

July was the big month and December was the smallest month, but you can't really glean anything from the times as the primary factor is how many cows you are milking.  It also needs to be noted that we aren't going into this shooting for big production figures.  If that were so we'd have Holsteins instead of Jerseys.  Holsteins produce the largest volume, while Jerseys produce milk with a high butterfat percentage.  Furthermore, our cows are primarily grass-fed, so we aren't feeding them a high protein diet to boost their milk production.  One additional thing to keep in mind is the fact that until the calves are weaned, we share the milk with the calves.  This means for half of the day, the cows produce milk for their calf.  We then separate the momma from the calf and the milk made on that half of the day is for us.  The milk the calves drink is (obviously) not measured.

Nevertheless, the volume produced in our little dairy from our little farm sitting on 3 acres is pretty good, for us:

In total the girls produced 780 gallons of milk that was measured.  Milk weighs 8.6 pounds per gallon.  Over the course of the year, we lugged 6,709 pounds of milk from the barn into our home.  Put another way, Tricia and I carried 3.35 tons of milk into the house.

"You move 3.35 tons, and what do you get?  Another day older and deeper in debt.  St. Peter don't you call me, cause I can't go, I owe my soul to the company store..."  (Maybe the song didn't go exactly like that.)

2018 Egg Production - By the Numbers

In installment two of our 2018 "By the Numbers," we'll look today at the tally of egg production over the past year.  One of Benjamin's chores is to collect eggs, clean the ones that require tidying up, packaging them into cartons, counting them and notating the number of egg production each day on a spreadsheet we have posted on the refrigerator.  We record daily production, subtotaled by month and summed by year.  The summary of egg production for 2018 is listed below:

In 2018 we picked up 11,573 eggs and that equates to 964.42 dozen.  That's a lot of omelets!  We have roughly 100 hens.  I say roughly because, those girls don't stay still long enough to count.  Two years ago we fed them in the barn and trapped them in there.  One by one we let them out and counted them.  There were a few more that 100, and we've lost some since then.

On average a bird lays 116 eggs per year.  We picked up on average 31 eggs per day, meaning that a hen lays an egg about every 3 days. Below is a 5 year historical trend on monthly egg production:

The first thing that stands out is egg production is WAY up.  With fewer hens in 2018, we picked up 1,823 more eggs than in 2017.  What do we attribute that to?  Nutrition.  During the springtime, the hens find nutrition out in the pasture.  A change we made in 2018 was to begin supplementing the rough and milled rice we feed them with a little bit of laying pellets to add some protein to their diet.
The results were startling.  You'll notice that in 6 of the 12 months of the year, production was up month over month.  Most of the gains in production took place in January and February.  Overall April is the biggest month of production.  Spring grass and nutrition is at its peak and the weather is perfect without any stresses on the birds.  January is the lowest production month of the year due to short days and little nutrition on the pasture.

What do we do with all those eggs, you might be wondering?  Well, we eat a bunch of them.  Of those we don't eat, we give away about half of them and sell the remainder.