The past few weeks have been learning-laden for me.
First and foremost I had been sidelined for a few days by a kidney infection which literally crippled me with pain. That Wednesday afternoon I had some shooting pains in my back which made me wince and took me down to my knees. I couldn't sleep that evening for the pain and by morning I could not even move. Thank goodness for apple cider vinegar, honey and a shot of lemon. I took that with a warm water and drank it down by the gallon. Couple that with some cranberry pills 6x day, and I was right as rain by Sunday. There is a place for western medicine, but how great is it to kick something using natural medicine instead of an antibiotic?
On Friday during that whole ordeal, I did some chicken processing for one of our neighbours. I had planned to have some photos of the processing, and had taken some that day, but it would seem that I am unable to locate them. For those who are disappointed, there will be a next time - I have 10 (and possibly more) to do for my neighbour.
It wasn't a very long day for me - started around 10 and got the last rooster done just before 2pm. The roos were all done into skinless breasts as per request. I've come a long way from that first day, with my jaw set, trying not to throw up, but it's not something which is fun nor that to which I look forward. But I asked and received a small fee. Plus, I was able to put the rest of the meat into our freezer. We got thighs and legs, with backs for the stock pot. Not too many jobs will pay you with cold, hard cash plus food for the family!
I was completely knackered and my hands cut to ribbons from sticking them past small, razor sharp bones, but well satisfied with the day's work and had a great night's sleep!
I've been giving a lot of thought to our future barn. Trying to be thrift-minded, and with quotes from builders coming in the tens of thousands ($40-50k!), it's been quite a daunting undertaking. That is, until I saw a video of a guy in Arkansas, who built his barn with his own two hands. Building a barn by one's self is nothing new, I know. I had already planned to do much of the work myself with a conventional barn. But until I'd seen the video, it never occurred to me that I could do absolutely all of it on my own - with my own tools, my own supplies and my own ingenuity.
I've done a bit of researching about permits and if the building is less than 225sf, a permit is not necessary. Because I want to do it on my own, I will keep the square footage under the required amount and thereby avoid the county's approval process. My barn will initially be 11 feet wide by 20 feet long, for a total square footage of 220. With two generously proportioned side sheds, this will be more than enough room for a large stall and space for feed and tack. There will also be a small loft upstairs, again, room for more storage and possibly hay (although I have been advised that hay sometimes goes bad if kept in a loft).
One side shed will house Bertie (my tractor) and the other will either be used for hay storage, a sheltered turn-out or a pig sty. I'll be able to drive the tractor into the barn for stall cleaning and there is enough room to use the bucket for lifting heavier items into the loft. There is also enough room so that we can lift the canopy off the truck and safely store up in the roof, safely away from damage.
Another really great thing about Nova Scotia is that so many people are willing to share, trade or barter for stuff. Case in point - I recently answered an advertisement from a fellow selling scab wood. Scabs are the slabs of wood cut from round trunks in order to make them square or rectangular. These squared pieces are then turned into dimensional lumber - 2x or 4x or 6x whatever you need. Because wood is so plentiful and thrift and ingenuity are qualities much admired in farming communities, many people mill their own lumber by buying, hiring or borrowing a saw mill.
One of my other neighbours has offered me the use of his saw mill to cut the lumber for my barn. I've been stock piling some nice soft wood for next winter, but I think most of what I've piled will be better put to use with the barn. There is a lot of smaller diameter wood cut down and just waiting for me to drag it off of the hills for for firewood. I did not feel good about just using his mill, so I offered to trade some hard wood in exchange for it's use.
While I was out purchasing the scabs, the fellow from whom I bought them noticed my trimming kit. I explained that I've been trimming and shoeing for friends as I've been out of the business for some time. He then asked me how much I'd charge to trim his seven horses! I reiterated that it had been a long time since I charged anyone, but that I'd find out the going rate - neither wanting to undercut another farrier, nor over-charge the fellow.
During the course of our conversation, the fellow had mentioned he had telephone poles and dimensional lumber also for sale (hence the reason the scabs were piled at his place). I offered to trade him the trims on his horses for the telephone poles and he agreed. So, I will trade my labour for the foundation poles to my barn.
This makes me feel great - not only will mine be the labour put into construction of the barn, but it will also be my labour traded for the materials with which to build it. It already feels good to know that I have a skill which is valued and desired!
All of this brings me to my adventures with cutting and skidding wood yesterday. The temperature was cold but the sun was shining and I figured that it was a good day to try and get some of the hardwood laying at the back of my property. There is a pile of approximately 40 hardwood logs laying in a difficult to reach spot and it has been bothering me for the year and a half that we've been living here. With temps so cold I figured much of the ground would be frozen enough to try and get to it.
Bertie and I set off with high hopes, down the sun-dappled logging lane. I wished I'd had a video camera with me as the day was absolutely brilliant! The tractor and I made slow and deliberate progress along the soggy brook-bottom of our property where we have so many springs and run-offs that it never truly ever freezes.
I had a couple harrowing experiences and managed to get Bertie stuck twice. But we made short work of the deep muck by using the logging winch to drag ourselves out. There were a few slippery places and before we reached our intended destination, I decided that I should not push my luck any further. I stopped right where I was and turned around.
It was during this turn around that I saw a beautiful piece of popple (poplar) laying exactly where it had fallen during one of our wicked storms. Luckily, I was prepared for this situation and had the chainsaw with me in the bucket of the tractor. I jumped off Bertie to retrieve the saw.... and fell into snow that was waist deep!
Not wanting to return home empty-handed, I soldiered on - 200 feet away was the prized poplar. About four inches under the snow there was a decent crust which supported me ever second or third step. When I did break through the snow however, I was up to my waist.
Have you ever seen a rhinoceros making snow angels? Me neither, but I bet that's what I looked like, struggling to get out of the deep, granular snow.
I finally gave up and started crawling. I remembered that it's best to disperse weight on thin ice, and that this was the principle behind snow shoes (which would have been useless in the brush and around the tractor) I figured it wouldn't hurt to try moving along on all fours. I am sure that I now appeared to be a drunken rhinoceros making snow angels.
As I was snow-swimming, dragging forty pounds of logging chains around my neck with the twenty pound chainsaw in one hand, pulling the logging cable hook in the other, I couldn't help but think that this was farmer cross-fit. I mean, I was getting a fantastic abs workout!
Anyways, it was a tough day. A chore which is normally rather dangerous and labour intensive was made doubly so by deep snow, slippery ground from open springs and hidden obstacles. I managed to make it back to the log landing with all my appendages and a complete tractor. That I was dragging two (practically) worthless popple logs was a small bonus.
I will not try to get wood from that area of the property by tractor, alone, again.
My log landing.
Two popple (poplar) logs partially obscured by snow on the left.
Heavy work occupies the body and allows the mind to wander at liberty - providing both an opportunity to philosophize and a dangerous distraction. But for all that, I think I'm starting to understand farming:
Toil long, labourious hours, allowing ample opportunities to become severely wounded, and possibly killed, for that which will be infinitely more concrete, real and rewarding than pimping yourself to the highest bidder whilst slaving away at a soul-deadening, unfulfilling and completely useless job for an insulting hourly wage.
But really, what's important? Is growing food worthwhile? What about providing heat in the winter? Is it helpful to tread a bit more lightly upon the earth? And the feeling that comes from having a direct effect on the day to day life of you and your family? Is self-esteem and the health of your body really worth it?
The answer to all of those questions, and so many more, is a resounding, "YES!"
Eggs from our farm, beef from our friends, bread made at Marie Et Guy's from organic wheat grown and milled in New Brunswick. Don't look at the sriracha behind the curtain!
In other news, Penny has given up being broody. In an interview, she cited lack of stimulation as the basis for her recent decision. "It was boring and I found that it was holding me back from the morning porridge," she explained.
