<![CDATA[Fat Turkey Farm

<![CDATA[Fat Turkey Farm - Farm Life]]>Wed, 06 Mar 2024 17:49:48 -0800Weebly<![CDATA[A New Normal, and Solo Farming]]>Fri, 26 Nov 2021 18:04:40 GMThttp://fatturkeyfarm.com/farm-life/a-new-normal-and-solo-farming

As most of you know, my dear, sweet, wonderful, funny, loving, strong, tall, perfect for me husband passed away on Oct 24th from that F’king covid virus that has been unleashed upon the world.

It’s been an unbearable 2 months, first with him in the hospital, and now having him cross over to the other side.

I hate the fact that he was in the hospital and they would not let me be with him. I got one 4 hour period where I got to sit with him, and I suspect they did it only because they didn’t think he was going to make it thru that night. He did and made another 2 weeks before his heart gave out, and he was gone.

My soulmate, my best friend, my partner, my protector, the man I waited my life for, the best person to ever happen to me, my Robyn, is gone.
That’s my new normal, and I hate every minute of it.

There are not enough swear words in this world to describe how much I despise what has happened.

Not only did I lose the love of my life, and who I would give anything to have back here and never let him leave. I also lost an entire skill set, knowledge base, and life experience that I can never replicate.

Robyn was a mechanic, welder, fabricator, and could fix damn near anything. If something went sideways, I could always count on him to figure out how to make it work. I gave me great joy to watch him fix something as I stood by watching, ready to lend a hand should he need it. I am awestruck by his innate ability to deal with any problem that came to light.

This leaves me with mostly solo farming now. My son is here, and he’s a great help, however, he does work full time. So if something has to be done during the week that can’t wait, it’s up to me to do it.

Robyn and I were working here to simplify our process, and for the most part, we did. Chores are pretty minimal luckily. But the big heavy lifting still has to be done on occasion, such as moving huge bales of hay. This time of year, and for the next several months, it will be an ongoing chore to keep that hay out for the stock. Robyn was the tractor guy and I was the step’n’fetch on the ground.

This now means I have to drive the 1953 Farmall Super M tractor. Not such an easy feat for me. I’m glad that Robyn taught me how to drive that behemoth 12 years ago, but up until 2 months ago, I had not driven it since that time.

The learning curve has been quite steep for me considering I almost smashed my kid by dropping 3 big square bales over, and took out 2 corral panels and a fence line. Scared the living shit out of me and him. Luckily he is ok and I didn’t break him very much.

Doesn’t help much that the tractor is set up for Robyn’s very long legs, and now all the bolts are frozen in position so I can’t move the seat to accommodate my much shorter legs. Unfortunately, when this tractor breaks down, I am not so able to fix it being as I am not a mechanic. And right now, I’m having issues with the choke lever.

That means I have to depend on friends or neighbors to come to my aid. And if you know me, you know how much I don’t like having to interrupt someone else’s day and be dependent upon someone else to help. I am grateful for all the help I have gotten to date. There are good friends and neighbors here willing to help me.

That’s one of the things that made Robyn’s and I good working partners. He could do things I can’t and vice versa. We worked great together, and after 12 years, could read each others minds and signals. I want him back so badly. I want his hugs, kisses, cuddles, love, and selfishly, his skilled hands and mind which made life so much easier for us both.

A new normal and solo farming. This is not what Robyn and I envisioned when we created this rural life.

I want my old normal back.

]]><![CDATA[Love, Barbed Wire, and other Detritus]]>Fri, 03 Sep 2021 17:08:49 GMThttp://fatturkeyfarm.com/farm-life/love-barbed-wire-and-other-detritusI have waxed poetic about how I love living on our “new” old ranch. The history that we have been told about, the little peeks of that history found in and around the house, and the general feeling that the place has been lived in.

Some of that history is not so neat and clean.

We have spent 2 years working to clean the place up from 109 years of use. Previous occupants were not always so shiny about where they decided to dump stuff.

We have 2 areas in the pasture that served as house dump. We have found about a few hundred pounds of old rusted cans of unknown origin. Some of it we can figure out based on shape, such as an old maple syrup can in the shape of a log cabin, or an old oil can with the church key perforations in the top. Chunks of cable wire, an old refrigerator prob from the early 1940’s, and a furnace. Broken dishes and tea cups, bones, a toilet, and other mysterious unknown bits.

We found one area next to our barn where they apparently decided to bury what seem like 100 pounds of nails. These suckers have taken out 3 tractor tires, 2 off-road vehicle tires and one truck tire. They morph out of the ground constantly. I pick up anywhere between 10-50 nails a week. Rain seems to make them procreate.

One trick we found they used in the past was to put rolled up barbed wire and hang on tree limbs. Some of it has grown into the tree itself. We also have found horse shoes on tree limbs and the business end of a pitchfork is dangling in perpetuity.

It’s like an archeological excavation to get it cleaned up.

We found a scrap hauler and, to date, he has removed 5 trailer loads of stuff, and we have at least another 2 ready for him to take now.

This brings me to the crux of the post. Barbed wire.

The wire that shaped the west.

The wire that kept cows out of farmer’s fields. The wire that kept the cattle barons from free ranging their cows. The wire that, quite frankly, got people and animals killed during the settlement of the west.

Cattle barons were not quite so pleased when homesteaders and crop farmers moved into their fiefdom. There were literal wars over the stuff. One was called the “Fence cutting war” in eastern Wyoming, Colorado, Texas and New Mexico in 1880’s. Cattle barons started to fence off their own private land, as well as open range public land and water to keep the small ranchers and homesteaders off of it. Needless to say that did not go over so very well and the cutting of fences commenced. They attribute 4 deaths, including a Texas ranger, to this war, and they estimated $20 million in damages in 1883 alone.

Did you know there is a museum dedicated to barbed wire in Kansas?

Frankly, I never did like the stuff, especially when it comes to sheep. Sheep tend to not be really big on testing fences. They don’t tend to try to find holes to escape thru thankfully. Yes, there are exceptions to that rule. For the most part, sheep are pretty happy to stay where they are put.

One of the reasons we are trying to clean up the property is because of the sheep. Hidden dangers abound!!

Little Miss Gwen found one of those hidden dangers that we had not found yet. She was grazing along with her mom, Aife, her siblings and the rest of the flock, when she came across an old rusted up bunch of barbed wire hidden under a tree. She got her little self tangled up in the chunk of wire. And before you say it, I do understand that them wearing coats can contribute to them getting hung up.

We are not sure how long she was trapped. I am grateful that she was smart enough to not keep struggling to extricate herself from the mess and to just lay waiting for us to find her. I am also grateful that her mom was so insistent in calling for her.

We got her untangled and took her to the barn for some doctoring. I didn’t find any big cuts, however she did have the wire jammed up between the toes of one back foot and she has a bit of a limp at the moment from it. She is eating, drinking, and very alert. Once I'm sure she won't bloat after laying on her side for a while, she will go back out with the rest of the flock.

The coat was sacrificed to the barbed wire Gods.

The pic is the wire we found hidden, along with a piece of her coat and a few strands of her wool still attached.

So, we spent several hours this morning driving around once again searching for more detritus and hidden dangers. I suspect this will be an ongoing duty given to us by 109 years of living.

]]><![CDATA[Damn F'ing Drough]]>Thu, 05 Aug 2021 00:54:29 GMThttp://fatturkeyfarm.com/farm-life/damn-fing-droughThe past few weeks have been hell. I’ve had to wrestle with a decision that I never wanted to make. And it’s killing me.

We have to part with our last 2 cows. My babies. My sweet babies.

Drought, it’s a dirty word for farmers and ranchers. Things are really bad in the mid west right now. Multi year drought is taking a hellacious toll in the worst way possible. Very little hay is available for purchase, crops are burning up in fields, and sleepless nights abound.

I have been facing the seriously crappy decision about what to do. One, I honestly hoped, I would never have to face.

Logically, not having the cows is the best decision. They do eat a lot of hay vs the sheep. They have a tendency to tear up fences. And, quite frankly, they can be hard on the sheep. Neither of the two are producing for us. One is a runt and barren, and one had such bad mastitis that her udder is permanently unable to produce milk.

Yeah, that sound very callous, doesn’t it?

I don’t mean to sound that way.

Truth be told, I'm writing this with tears running down my face and snot leaking onto my shirt.

Let me tell you about my cows.

Miss Loo Loo was the start of my part of our farm. She was a present from my husband on my birthday. A beautiful Holstein girl. I started a raw milk herdshare program with this big girl. She gave us gallons of sweet milk, butter, cheese and ice cream. She fed other families with the same. She also gave us beautiful calves. Some we sold, and some went into our freezer. She was the best mom ever, always taking care of her babies. Her milk also fed many bum lambs over the years. All grew to be big fat babies. Loo Loo loves being scratched on her horn bumps, and her chin. She will let you lean against her and just be.

You know what I mean? To just be?

Her flank is always warm on a cold winter morning when you’re milking her as you lean your face against her. She smells sweet. She adores apples, grain, and cookies. Her patience as we learned to work together is amazing. No kicking, however, she would slap you with her tail if she was not happy. Her big brown eyes showed you the soul that resides within.

Sadly, she developed such bad mastitis after being at another farm with their bull that the only treatment to control that destroyed her udder tissue for future babies. I hate what that did to her.

She is a good girl. A beautiful girl. Always a beautiful girl.


Then there is Baby, also called Calflette. Baby was born prematurely on Father’s Day 4 years ago. She was a little bitty thing. She didn’t even weigh 40lbs. Her mama didn’t want her. We pulled her into the barn and tried to get her to take a bottle. She was so runty she didn’t even have a suck reflex. We used a syringe to get colostrum into her at first. To say it was a fight is an understatement. I tried the calf tube we had so I could get it right into her tummy, but it would not pass down her throat.

My son and I ran her to the vet on her 2nd day of life. I think the vet was kind of irritated at me when I called, ya know, who can't tube a calf??? What kind of a cow person was I?? Sheesh!

He was amazed we were trying to keep her alive, as small as she was. Kudo’s that he didn’t just tell us to let her die right then, as I’m sure that’s exactly what he was thinking. He did find a dog sized tube feeding set up that fit her tiny throat. So, that’s what we did. Fed her 3 times a day via tube feeding with Loo’s milk. For 3 months. She finally graduated to a bottle, and she sorta grew. She never did get very big. Less than half the size of a full grown Angus cow. I am always surprised that she survived her first few months of life. She had everything against her survival from the day she was born.

She also loves her head scratches and treats. We enjoy playing with her, as she dances around us, kicking her back legs, bouncing, and acting like a really big puppy. Her first day out of the barn and in the sheep corral is memorialized on video. Running around in circles, just happy to be alive.

So happy to be alive.

And I am betraying that.

My underlying philosophy has been that the animals that live here, will spend their life here.

Yes, I've put a few steers in the freezer. One day I'll tell you about psycho steer. And yes, I've sold sheep to other fiber folks for their own flocks. It breaks my heart and I cry over each animal that has left us, even though I know they are going to loving homes and I am still in touch with their new owners.

This feels different though. The emotional connection that I feel with these girls is so much deeper than I have felt before.

One thing I have always hated are the people that think that the animals we raise are just a “product”. They are not. The become part of our family. Part of our daily life. Each animal has their own personality. They have their own likes and dislikes. Some are grumpy, some are mean, some are sweet like Loo Loo, and some, like Baby are just happy to be alive.

I wish I could find another way to keep them here. I wish I could find a way to feed them over the coming winter. Knowing what their ultimate fate is going to be shows me that I am a failure. That I have betrayed them at the most basic level.

Hard decisions. Heart breaking decisions. Decisions that hundreds of ranchers are facing right now.

All because there is no rain.

And I HATE it. And I hate myself for failing my girls.

]]><![CDATA[History]]>Tue, 06 Jul 2021 21:29:24 GMThttp://fatturkeyfarm.com/farm-life/historyAnybody that knows me, knows how much I love history. One of the great things about moving to our “new” farm is the history of the place. After living here for 2 years now, we have gleaned many bits and pieces of that history.

This part of the ranch was sold off when the state of Wyoming decided to make a new highway thru the ranch. The owner at the time, who is still alive and who we hope to have visit some day soon, sold this part off, built a new house across the road, where they are still running cows to this day. He said the cars were too close and noisy.

The original house was built in 1912 on the ranch. Not a huge place, had a kitchen, living room, an upstairs bedroom, and a mystery room which we suspect was a 2nd bedroom but we are not sure as it has 2 doors and 2 windows. One door and one window are boarded up now. The closed off door is in the current closet, and it looks like the window was open to the back of the house.

No bathroom!!! Hence the still working 2 hole-r outhouse. We also know that the original house had no electrical service. When they wired the house to that new fangled electric, they did it from the top down. Most of our outlets are in the middle of the walls instead of down near the floor. The water into the house came in the form of a windmill pumping to a cistern, with grey water run off out to a pit in the side yard, which is slowly collapsing. The cistern is still outside the back door, and still contains water, but I seriously doubt it’s current freshness.

I am thankful that the folks who lived here did some fun things in concrete. Outside the back door is a pair of little girl foot prints in her tiny heeled shoes. They are about half the size of my size 9 feet. Just out my studio door is the ranch emblem of a circle with an X in it. The name of the ranch is the X Ring. On another slab of concrete dated to 1956 are the names and hand prints of several kids, they had small hands. And in the outhouse a bored youngster carved his initials in the seat board a few times. Guess you need to do something while your sitting there waiting for nature to take it’s course. I wonder if this child’s mama had words with them upon seeing that.

One outbuilding we found out is where their milking parlor was.  So we know they kept dairy cows. The other outbuilding, my current studio, is where they were processing the milk. We were told they also had pigs, and the original barn, which burned down, is where the pigs were kept.  Plus we suspect they raised beef cattle too.

Which brings me to the reason of this post. Pretty long winded way to get here, huh?

Sadly, we had to remove some of the history of the ranch today. There were two cattle loading chutes attached to the corral, that had, as time erodes, fallen into disrepair. We put up some pallets and fencing around them to keep our sheep out of them until we decided what to do with it all. I was secretly hoping that they would stay there in a state of stasis, but my hope was in vain. The posts were rotting at the bases from water and termite damage, there were old rusty nails poking out all over, and despite our fencing it off, was becoming an animal hazard. One of our sheep found a hole and got herself stuck in there twice this past weekend.

So, down it all came today. We were able to salvage the original hand forged hooks, eye bolts, and hinges off the various pieces. Not sure what we will do with them, so for now they are stored in the barn.

It broke my heart to see it laying in a pile of boards. I wonder what those people thought as they built those ramps. How much easier it would make their and the cow’s lives to have those ramps ready to go. The thoughts I had of cattle round up’s, with friends and family helping, then having a big home cooked meal afterwards. All the cows that walked up those ramps into trucks on their way to feed people across the country. The ability of the family to support themselves with their hard work, knowing they could pay their bills, buy new clothes and shoes, restock their pantry.

Yeah, I know, that’s the romantic version of it. I gotta dream about something!

I have no doubt that they had a hardscrabble life here. Given the time frame of the existence of the ranch they would have faced tough economic times, death, fires, illness of both people and livestock, lack of money, and, I hope, some good times also. A bit of spending money in their pocket, a holiday feast, the birth of a new child, or graduation from school.

When you think about it, our current life here on this slice of a ranch, isn’t so very different from life in 1912.

P.S. We have indoor outhouse now!

]]><![CDATA[Babies Babies Everywhere!]]>Thu, 27 May 2021 20:41:00 GMThttp://fatturkeyfarm.com/farm-life/babies-babies-everywhereAnd just like TTTTTTTHHHHHHHHaaaaaaaaatttttttttttttttttttttttttttt............. lambing is done! So is shearing for that matter. Ok, I've had a couple of weeks to recover from it all. Finally got a few good nights sleep!

We had a few first this year. The kind of tests that make me question my ability to pass them. Luckily for moms and babies, I did.

First one was Miss Spota and her twins. She was starting to struggle with her labor, pushing but not getting anywhere. Got a hand inside only to find 3 legs and no heads. Further feeling around I found a baby head, upside down and it’s chin locked under her pelvis.

Imagine as you look at the sheep’s backside that the head was at 5 O’Clock, one leg was at 9 O’Clock, one at 10 O’clock and one at 12 O’Clock.

Well crap.

I followed the upside down chin to the little one’s neck and gave it a push back in to get the chin free. Success!!! A couple of counter clockwise rolls got the baby in the right, sort of, position. Still have to figure out the feet.  Luckily I grabbed the right two (9 and 10 O’Clock ones) and tugged that lambie out. A little ram!

Got Spota and the baby into a jug where they were happily getting to know each other. Gave her another internal grope and found that baby #2 was in the right place for it’s entrance into the world. 30 mins later out came a sweet ewe!

Second test was Miss MoMo. Again, pushing but getting nowhere fast. Rob held her head and I got in there to see what was going on.

Well crap.

No head, but a little wigglie tail. My first breech birth. Got one back leg fished out, and then the second one. Gentle pulling got that rather large ram out from his warm home of the past 5 months. Mom and baby both survived my rather invasive treatment.

Third on tap was Miss Dearg. First time mom, long labor, not so very productive. Noticed she was in early labor mid morning, and then active labor started around 7pm. It was a long night in a cold barn waiting. Rob came and got me at 3am and made me eat some breakfast and warm up. We talked about what was happening, or in this case, not happening.

4am and out came the lube for a poke around inside.

Have you ever noticed that you can feel things better when you close your eyes?

I didn’t feel anything except a rather soft balloon. Well crap. Gave my hand a down turn and found a head.

One of the most cool things I've ever felt in my life is a little lamb, still in utero, take its little mouth and nom nom nom on my finger. Coolest thing ever. I mean it, COOLEST THING EVER!!!

Apparently, my poking around got Dearg into the mood for pushing. That’s a good thing!! Except she still wasn’t getting the job done very well. Once she got a foot out, she jumped up and got all weird about the whole thing. Course the little foot went sucking back inside.

So we rounded her up and Rob again held her head and I got the feet gathered up and got her little ewe out into the real world.

Thankfully, everyone survived my midwifery. And thankfully, the rest of the girls were rock stars all on their own. We finished the year with 4 ewes, 3 rams. 5 are white and 2 are black. It was a good year.

Shearing day went quite well. All the sheepies are naked again, and enjoying the freedom that comes with losing 5-10 pounds of wool. We had a great crew this year, and after a few initial bumps figuring out who was doing what, we worked as a well lanolined machine.

Fabulous pot luck lunch with super yummy food!! I know that I ate too much and paid the price for it with a too full stomach that makes chasing down sheep quite uncomfortable.

I cant thank all of you who came to help enough! You make the day rock!!!

Now to finish skirting, photo-ing, and shipping fleeces!! I wish the weather would cooperate!  ]]><![CDATA[Anticipation!]]>Sat, 24 Apr 2021 18:33:45 GMThttp://fatturkeyfarm.com/farm-life/anticipationWaiting for the babies!!

The girls are in the barn, looking quite huge and miserable at the moment. The fact that we were not able to have them shorn prior to lambing makes them look even bigger.

Sorta like cloven hooved land whales.

My back, belly, feet, and boobs feel for them. I can commiserate with the constant peeing, and the major effort it takes to get up. All I can say is I am so glad that I didn’t have to try to lay down with the monster udders they are sporting and have to hike out of the way of their back legs. Oy!

I must say, these girls do carry it with a gracefulness that I never achieved while pregnant.

And then there are the babies.  Oh those sweet little lambs arriving all new and fresh in the world. Watching those first tentative steps on impossibly long legs, wobbling around looking for their first breakfast. Listening to the mom’s talk quietly to them, teaching each other what they both sound and smell like. Mom’s eyes get all soft and loving towards their lambies.

Anticipation, it’s making me wait!! ]]><![CDATA[For the Love of Leo]]>Wed, 21 Apr 2021 21:04:40 GMThttp://fatturkeyfarm.com/farm-life/for-the-love-of-leoAh, Leo

AKA Leonidas Mac Capt. Jack, Bugger Butt, Turd Head, PITA, and, ultimately, my sweet boy.

Leo had a pretty rough start as a baby. He was the third born of H our first set of triplets to a first time mom ewe, Miss MoMo. Brother Rudah was first, as a single leg presentation, followed by sister Dearg, a no leg presentation, then Leo, a single leg presentation. Mom was loving on big brother and sister, but totally ignoring little runty Leo. I tried every trick I could think of to get her to accept him with no luck.

After about 2 hours I decided to take him into the house. Got him some colostrum, diapered him, made him a snuggly house complete with a stuffed animal, and waited to see if he would survive.

He did not stand alone for his first 12 hours of life, and did not walk for the first 24 hours.

Vet said that sometimes one triplet can get shorted on space, food, and blood supply, and that he needed a brain reboot.

So, we waited.

He spent most of the first 24 hours laying on my chest, covered in a blanket. He was so dang tiny!!

Once he decided to start walking, it was no holds barred!! He was cruising around the house, following me all over. And when he finally got tired, would demand my lap, or would curl up with Reba, the amazing Mother-to-all-on-the-farm cow dog.

Consequently, Leo grew up thinking he was a people/dog. When we transitioned him to life outside he made a bee-line for the LGD’s in the corral and demanded to join their ranks. They, being the big lovies they are, took him under their paws and he became one of the pack.
When we moved to a farm with better pasture, Leo got a taste of the “big world”. Leo did his best to become a sheep and follow along with the flock.

This did not appear to sit well with his psyche. He yearned for something more.

He decided he was going to be a horse. However, the horses were not all that enamored with his attempt to be one of them and in short order, they kicked him from their group.

Leo did his best to try to be a sheep for a while, to no avail.

He then discovered Miss Loo Loo the cow and fell head over hooves in love with her. It was a match made in sheep heaven for Leo.

On a daily basis, we had to scour the pasture for the unlikely duo in order to get Leo into the safety of the corral at night. Too many predators for him to have to deal with having only one cow as a body guard.

This went on for quite a while.

Sadly, we had to make the decision to sell the cows. You never saw a sheep as depressed as Leo was after that. He spent all day looking for and calling to the love of his life. (I know the feeling, Leo)

Winter came and went, and Leo assimilated back to being a sheep with LGD tendencies.

Once spring had sprung, Leo again discovered the horses. This time they accepted him as one of their own. Now we are back to scouring the pasture daily to find the trio.

I gotta say, for two big reddish horses, and one sheep in a white coat, those suckers can hide like champions. They get back into those trees and just disappear like they were sucked into a black hole. There have been a few nights where we just cant find them and Leo gets to sleep over in pony land.

I don’t sleep well those nights. Course, I don’t sleep well anymore anyhow, but the added worry that Leo is out where the predators are makes it worse. The horses can run, Leo, not so fast on his shorter legs.

Morning arrives and it becomes my main job to go find them and make sure bugger butt is still here. Once found, he does a good job of being contrite, by leaning against my leg and snuggling his head in for skitchies. Oh, and giving kissies.

Such a suck up!

I adore my Leo. A huge personality in a moorit fleece. And he knows it!]]><![CDATA[Profit and Loss]]>Tue, 06 Apr 2021 14:36:18 GMThttp://fatturkeyfarm.com/farm-life/profit-and-lossMany people see the term “profit and loss” in a business sense. Money in, money out, net gain vs net loss, the all powerful bottom line!
Me, not so much.
I did not get into the business of raising sheep to line my pocket. And I can see some of you readers rolling your eyes at that statement. I can see my hubby rolling his at this also. Would a monetary profit be good? Sure, it would, but it will probably never happen. It’s damn hard to make a profit with small scale farming. With the price of everything going up, it just got harder still.
All that aside, my profit and loss look’s more like this:
Profit’s
The joy of witnessing new life come into the world, and being at mom’s side while they labor.
Watching newborn lambs find their legs and nurse for the first time.
Seeing moms love on their babies, clean them up, and talk to them as they bond with each other. Their mom eyes are soft and loving.
Seeing lambs get the zoomies and tear around with each other in the barn, as they leap over their mom’s.
Laughing at the lambs when they come outside for the first time and seeing the real world. They have a look that’s pure wonder with a tinge of fear at the same time.
Seeing the pasture green up after a long, cold winter.
Shearing! What a great time of year for me. Friends and family gather at our house to help, and we have a great time eating, talking, and playing with fresh, warm fiber. Party baby!!!

Loss’s
The passing of any of the animals. They say that the only time an animal breaks your heart is when their time comes to shake off their mortal coil. I can attest that this statement is true.
I’ve long felt that it is my responsibility to be with any of my animals when their time to cross the rainbow bridge comes. I was there when most of them were born, its only right I'm there when they leave with a gentle hand on their brow, telling them it’s ok to go.
I hope that when my time comes to leave this world, that I am greeted on the other side by all my babies that have gone before me. I look forward to seeing their shining eyes and to feel them nuzzle my hand, or neck, or poke their nose into my butt looking for treats.

That’s my profit and loss. That’s my all powerful bottom line.

]]><![CDATA[The big move and settling in]]>Thu, 01 Apr 2021 15:50:53 GMThttp://fatturkeyfarm.com/farm-life/the-big-move-and-settling-inWell, we did it.

2019 was a year for the books! We made the decision to retire from the rat race and move forward with the dreams we have been longing to live. Rob hit the place he wanted to be in so that he could retire and not leave us hanging on for dear life. And I was more than happy to leave my job and concentrate on our sheep.

The great search was underway! Our list of requirements wasn't too long, well, maybe kinda. It needed to be a good size chunk of land, have a house, barn, shop, fenced, water source, trees, and not be in the middle of a city. I am very grateful to have interent access to do the searching. We did look at quite a few places, made offers on a couple of them to no avail, and spent quite a bit of time driving around just looking.

Finally, THE ONE, appeared! It had most of our requirements, but no barn, and the house did need some help, cus, ya know, the toilet was about to fall thru the bathroom floor, thus making it an adventure to use. We never knew if we were going to end up in the crawl space at 3am. But, I am getting ahead of myself. I think the biggest selling point was the huge shop for Rob, and the separate outbuilding for my studio.

We made the offer and it was accepted!

Now the fun begins. Prior to finding the house, I had been doing quite a bit of culling of the stuff and packing the non essentials. The biggest problem though was the moving of a 20 year current farm to the "new" farm. I love my husband dearly, however he is a bit of a pack rat. Luckily we were able to find a gentleman in Colorado who came and picked up all the scrap metal Rob had been saving. We also filled up a huge roll off dumpster with barn stuff which had been thru 2 floods. Not to mention all the shop stuff that just needed to go. We spent several months just dealing with the outside of the property, and it was backbreaking work. In between all that, I was inside packing and cleaning furiously, and repainting, and fixing, and bla bla bla just to get the house on the market.

And on the market it went. There was no anticipation on our part that the offers would be rolling in quickly. Um, well, thats not how it went. Day 2 of it being on the market we had an appointment for its showing. Had an offer the day after the showing, accepted that, and WHOOEEE, needed to be out in 30 days!!!

The great migration begins.

Earlier in the year, we found and purchased a 53' box trailer for the move and had been steadily packing that with boxes and "stuff" so we could make the house move part in one shot. Best idea ever!!!

The big problem was the bigger outside farm equipment. It would not fit the trailer, so it had to be put on the flatbed trailer and hauled up one trip at a time. Back to back. For 20+ trips. For a while our days consisted of getting up at 3 am, driving 5 hours, unloading the trailer, driving back 5 hours, reloading the trailer, falling into an exhausted sleep and doing it all over again the next morning. Back to back. 20+ trips.

But we got it done. And we are grateful to friends who helped and hauled for us too.

So, here we are. Living on the western edge of the Black Hills of Wyoming and loving it every day! The animals all made the transition very well, and love their new pasture and woodlands to roam over.

Oh, and the toilet is no longer threatening to fall thru the floor.

]]><![CDATA[Summer's over, Winter's coming]]>Tue, 25 Oct 2016 17:37:14 GMThttp://fatturkeyfarm.com/farm-life/summers-over-winters-comingWell, summer is over. Its been a busy one. Like its never busy on a farm, right?

Our Miss Loo Loo gave birth to a beautiful baby boy several weeks ago. He's growing like the proverbial weed. Both mom and baby are not very happy since we weaned him away from her this past weekend. He's still getting her milk, just not from the tap. LOL! So, its back to production milking for us, and that means we have openings for our herdshare program, should you be in the market for some fresh raw milk!! Check out the herdshare program page for all the details!

Mr Luke the ram, from this springs lambing, has moved to his new home. He's now the herd sire for a newly formed flock of a local handspinner. We miss his smiling face, but know he will enjoy his new life as "King of the ewes!!!"

The garden is about to be put to bed. Everything possible from our garden and a very generous friend (Hey Moldy! I know you read this!) has been canned, dried, or frozen for the coming winter.

We will be sorting the sheepies out, trimming feet, worming, measuring for new coats on those that have outgrown them and moving them into their breeding groups this coming weekend. I got smart and got marking harness's for the rams this year. Hopefully I wont be caught with "oops" babies this coming spring. They are all putting on a heck of a bunch of wool! The shearer is going to have a fun time next spring with all that fleece, esp. if we have a cold winter and they kick up their growth. Oh yummy spinning fiber!!!

Guess the next thing on the list is cutting up some firewood!

Blessings!

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