Introducing: Buttercup and Trudy

This just doesn't give credit to the bulk and strength of these critters.  We might be wise to reinforce the gate to keep them from prying it up. 

I received my first batch of stale bread from the Leo Center food pantry on Sunday.  A local bakery donates bread once a week to the pantry.

Whatever is left when the new bread arrives used to go in the trash, but not any more.  Hogs, chickens, and my wild birds get a chance at it before it goes bad.

When my layers start producing eggs, the Leo Center will be paid back in full for their contribution.  Does anyone else think it may be wrong to feed Challah to pigs?

More about Galloways

Belted Galloways on pasture

Galloway cattle are noticeably more furry than other breeds except Highlanders.  They do well in cold weather without needing to put on a thick layer of fat for warmth.  The breed is known for it's ability to grow well on grass alone.  Galloways come in black, red, or dun.  They can be belted or, more commonly, solid. 

Example of a white Galloway

A more unusual pattern for Galloway cattle is white with black points.  This similarity with White Parks has led to speculation that there may be some Galloway blood in the formation of the American Brisish White Park genetics.  I'm a big fan of the white color pattern, and from the start, Galloways were in the running for my foundation stock at Bluestem Farm. 

Catalina at Bluestem Farm

Catalina, my new half-belted Galloway (that is she is a beltie that only shows the belt on her left side) will be bred this summer to the same White Park bulls as the rest of the herd.  In a generation or two, I hope to see some white, black-pointed offspring from her, too.

Farm in a box

My round trip through the Missouri Ozarks to pick up hogs and heifers went smoothly- a great consolation to Scott after my dicey truck-stock trailer-ice-highway incident last winter in Iowa. 

I met Tyke, the hog breeder, in the little Missouri town of El Dorado Springs to transfer the stock from his trailer to mine.  I had visions of stout hogs running wild in the Pamida parking lot, but to my surprise, both boar and sow just stepped daintily from one trailer to the other and settled in for the ride.  The registered Guinea Hog boar, Buttercup, probably earned his name as a two-pound piglet, but at over 200 lbs now, he isn't worried about being teased.  The unnamed sow, I christened Trudy, after a former relation of my husband's. 

Heifers did not load so smoothly.  The farm didn't have adequate loading facilities, so we had to first select the two heifers I wanted and then run the rest of the herd out of the corral.  Then, the two lonely heifers had to be convinced to mount the trailer of their own accord.  After some graceless chasing, one heifer decided to try the trailer.  With little stress, I closed the door and secured her in the front compartment.  The second heifer was in a little panic when she tangeled in a mess of scrap wire that had been left in the corral.  With wire around her neck and legs, she managed to shake free, but by that time she was cut around her mouth and bleeding.  In her terror she started charging at everyone, especially Larry, who retaliated by swinging a board to smack her whenever she got close. 

The only way to treat the heifer was to let her settle herself and find the trailer on her own.  Larry had another idea.  He loaded up an air pistol with bee-bees and started shooting at her from outside the fence.  She didn't understand what he wanted her to do, but she sure knew that he was her enemy.  I was crouching behind the trailer door, in part to swing it shut if she happened to step in, but also to keep from being pinged with bee-bees, as the heifer was now between Larry and me.  When started to load the second clip, I called halt and took my one heifer home.  This wasn't the only sign of poor management that I saw there, but it is by far enough. 

My little yearling, half-belt heifer still calls for her mother some, but the herd has taken her as one of their own.  I think she will continue to gentle up with good management.  I've named her Catalina.

If your grandma is your aunt ...

... you might be a Guinea Hog.  Welcome to the incestuous world of bringing a species back from the brink of extinction.  Never mind that Trudy and Buttercup did come from the Ozarks, line-breeding, the purposefully close breeding for predictable characteristics, is a necessary tool.  The breed had been reduced to only a few animals before efforts to revive it were underway.  There are three separate "lines" of Guinea hogs now.  My breeding stock is firmly in the "Setty" line from Ohio.  The general wisdom among breeders seems to be to maintain these three lines separately through line-breeding and then start crossing them back to each other.  Here are the known pedigrees for Trudy and Buttercup:

			Biggers Arthur
		DNC George
			Celesky's Tulip
	BRO Fred
			Setty Houdini
		DNC Gabby
			Celesky's Tulip
Trudy				Biggers Arthur
			DNC George
				Celesky's Tulip
		BRO Homer
				Biggers Arthur
			DNC Chunky
	714 Sky Daisy			Setty Rose
				Biggers Arthur
			DNC George
		BRO Kelsy McGee		Celesky's Tulip
				Setty Houdini
			DNC Gabby
				Celesky's Tulip
	Setty Houdini
DNC Buttercup
	Setty Rose

I know... It seems a little bizarre.  I'm more a fan of cross-breeding for hybrid vigor, but in this case I understand what the breed association is trying to do.  Still, I could see crossing buttercup with a sow of a different breed now and then for feeder pigs.  It would have to be a small, young sow that he could reach to service.

Trailer triage

In preparation for my big trip tomorrow, I picked up the neighbor's trailer and brought it back to Santa's workshop.  Last year I made a few ill-advised inter-state trips without reliable lights.  This time Scott is fixing me up right. 









Every farmer needs to be a mechanic and welder as well as knowing animal, soil, and forage health.  In this case Scott and I are a great team.

Last of the stored produce

We didn't exactly pack the larder last fall, so I've been rationing the goodies we were able to put up.  This was the first year that our Keifer pear tree put on fruit.  Only special occasions have warranted opening one of the seven jars up until now, but it's January and we needed a taste of sunshine.  We can thank the internet for our success with the pears; they were nearly pig food.  It turns out that no matter how long Keifer pears hang on the tree, they will not ripen!  We watched them from July until September remain unchanged before I went searching for answers online.  The trick is to pick them while they are still hard and ripen them for two months in paper sacks in the basement.  The beauty of this is not only that it worked, but that all the pears were ripe at the same time.  Scott and I spent a late night cutting and canning for far better results than grocery store pears.

A very sad story

Katherine and I picked up a store pizza (a splurge for us) to eat at Aunt Vicki's house last night.  On the way home, a quick brake sent our left overs sliding from their confinement and onto the passenger-seat floor... face down. 

There was nothing left to do but treat the flock to Papa Murphy's Gourmet Vegetarian.  By this morning it was all gone.