Heirloom Turkeys in the New Year

The new year stretches ahead of us. 

This is the path worn through the snow by our cows. They use it to retreat from the wind once they've eaten their fill. It stretches to the very top of the hill where the forest beyond the fence cups the pasture at its side and blocks the brunt of the weather. I marvel at them every time I'm within view when they descend to the feeder. They follow each other tightly in single file along the ridge of the hill. We have nearly two feet of snow now, and cows know to conserve what energy they can through minimizing their efforts. We're doing the same - carving only necessary paths, going no further than we need to, and casting our minds forward as we sit comfortably indoors.

Among our many ambitions for the coming year, raising heritage turkeys is high on the list. We haven't decided firmly on a breed yet, but we intend to raise an heirloom bird on pasture, one that might actually fly away from us if it cared to. Initially, we thought of raising a set number of birds and randomly offering a few of them for sale when the time came to the first bidder. But Normandy had the brilliance to suggest that we inform people of our intentions ahead of time, and then raise as many birds as we have the interest for. Granted, we don't yet have full command of the details (what the poults will cost, the grain expense, and these finer points will certainly contribute to the final price per pound). But a few things are certain: these turkeys will be truly free ranging in our pasture with our cow herd - they will be fed organic grain (although they will also be fed any number of garden scraps and roots we harvest for them - meaning that they will feast on the full compliment that nature/nurture has to offer) - and that we will care for them with the respect that sentient beings deserve (including a humane slaughter by own own hands). If you are interested in purchasing one or more of these birds from us, send an email directly to cairncrestfarm@gmail.com. We will respond shortly with all the details, including discounts for pre-orders, that may influence whether or not you want to commit to this. If a number of people in a given location (say, Bryn Athyn) express interest, we would absolutely make a specific trip to deliver those turkeys fresh. On the off chance that more people express interest than we feel comfortable accommodating, we will determine priority by the order in which we receive e-mails. 

We hope you are enjoying some reflection on the past year and casting your hopes for the one to come like seeds into good ground. 

-Alanna

Cold Weather Grazing

The other morning I was out moving the cows to a fresh break of grass and marveled at their ability and willingness to eat huge quantities of frozen grass.  The morning temperatures here at Cairncrest have been in the upper teens and low twenties, which is chilly enough to freeze the surface of the soil and heavily frost our pastures.  Cattle must have massive bloodflow to their mouths to keep them warm and mobile while munching down pound after pound of ice.  Our cows need just under 30 pounds of dry matter per day in order to fill their rumens and stay happy.  Standing pasture has much more water in it than dry hay does, so when grazing they actually consume more than 30 pounds of forage per day, which is a lot of cold, cold stuff to chew through.

The end of our third year of grazing approaches, the exact date will probably be determined by the weather, i.e. too much snow will fall for the cows to dig through for a fresh bite.  It is possible we'll run out of grass before the snows get too deep as our pasture's fertility is far from optimized and the volume of grass available to our herd diminishes by the day.  Our goal is to make it to the New Year on stockpiled pasture, thereby avoiding many days of (expensive) hay feeding.  Last year we grazed until just after Thanksgiving, but this year our management was tighter and the weather has been cooperative, so things look good for meeting our goal.

Here is a photo of where the cattle were a few days ago.  Note the line in the grass where the cows were fenced and the spot where they have yet to hit.  We're currently moving the herd away from this line, but we'll be back to harvest all that good grass in a week to ten days.  Well, actually the cows will get to do all the work of harvesting... This area was last grazed back in late July/early August.  The regrowth is pretty good because we have outwintered the animals here and all the imported hay has done wonders for the quality of the pasture.  Unfortunately this is only one small section of a much larger pasture, and most of our land in this paddock is not so lusty.

And here is a picture of the herd.  You can see the portable electric fences we use to set-up new paddocks every day or two.  Also worth noting are the water tanks.  We have to remember to drain the hoses every time we fill them this time of year or else we run into issues the next time we go out.  Frozen hoses are a royal pain.

Once it gets even colder we will set the water tank in a "permanent" spot for the winter and leave it running continually, with a drain to siphon the excess off to the little creek at the bottom edge of the paddock.  The agtitated water can then stay open for the cows even when the temperature drops way below freezing for days or weeks on end.

And here is a picture of my favorite cow in our herd, Sable.  She's docile, maintains her condition well, and raises a big calf every year.  I love cows.

-Edmund

My Brother the Goose Whisperer

While the competing views of nature as either bleak waste, red in tooth and claw, or a Disneyland inhabited by anthropomorphic herbivores still shape many discussions of the place of humans in the world, the practical reality is not so simple, as I'm sure you, dear reader, know well. There's lots to say and lots that's been said about the predator/prey relationship, and the strange subversion of this relationship that is animal husbandry. But this is not my interest today. Today I want to write about the unexpected, the beauty and the wonder that abound.

We are well into fall, and most of the trees on the farm have disrobed, leaving their hardened skeletons to chatter at one another through another blustery winter. On several long drives over the past weeks I've been struck by the subtle shifts in foliage that accompany descent and ascent, the confluence of temperature and time that shape the colors of autumn - drop into the Hudson valley, and the trees are two weeks behind, still merry in their reds and aflame in their oranges.

Last spring, out hunting turkey, a bobcat padded through the morning woods, twenty feet from where my brother and I sat. Its gray ears twitched at my brother's whisper, and it turned and vanished silently back into the trees.

I heard little from the coyotes last year, but of late their eerie yips and howls have filled the night, exciting a frenzy in the village dogs and keeping me from sleep with thoughts of our calves. Last week I saw one at midday work slowly through my neighbor's pasture, stalking and pouncing after mice.

But there is something on our farm beside which these encounters and observations pale. It hinges on a relationship between human and animal more profound than that of a skilled rider and his mount. The songs of humpback whales are justifiably celebrated, but here we have a music far more haunting, a music which rings out through the valley, more beautiful than the peels of the Maria Glorioso or a Bach partita, more moving than any aria, a harmony which can only be termed sublime.



-Garth

Squash Harvest

Where do we store 955 pounds of squash?

Almost anywhere. 

- Alanna

Lacto-fermented Sauerkraut Redux

Garth and I gave and received utilitarian gifts this year. I was fueled by the irritation of using things not suited to the purpose, and I can't speak to Garth's motivation. So, although we're repeating the same tasks we took up last year, we have gained something from our trials and acquired better tools, which have refined the process immensely. The small things add up. Let me get into specifics.

It is kraut time. Last year the cabbages we sowed directly were destroyed by slugs, and we had to purchase starts at a nearby greenhouse (thank you Sirkos!). Unfortunately, the starts we did buy were begun earlier than we would have wanted. This meant that last year our cabbage crop was splitting open and beginning to rot before we, or the season, were ready. But this year, with the hoop house Garth built, we were able to start them later in soil blocks and grow them larger before planting them out. It has been very successful. Look at how tight these heads are! The variety is 'Storage No. 4', which we chose because it was developed in Cortland, NY.

Last year, we tried using a sealable five gallon bucket to lacto-ferment the cabbage in. We filled a plastic bag with salt water to weight the cabbage down with. The results were tasty, but the process was touchy, and the container was never the same. I cleaned it twice and dried it in the sun before storing anything else in it, but that just wasn't enough. We had a bag of macadamia nuts - double bagged actually, if memory serves - that took on that distinct cabbagey flavor. I sacrificed the bucket to construction purposes. 

For Garth's birthday we bought these polish fermenting crocks. The design is really sophisticated. Leave a comment if you want me to go into it, but the short story is that they are ceramic, non-porous and highly suited to the task (and significantly cheaper than their German counterparts).

And Garth gave me this huge stock pot for Christmas. Although it is too big to wash in our sink, the advantages are obvious. We could both pound the cabbage at the same time without knocking elbows or wrists. 

And that's just what we did. Well, Garth mostly. We used about 4 cabbages to fill the 20L crock - roughly 35 pounds after trimming - which means the cabbages were around eight pounds each. Garth used the smaller crock for shredded beets with citrus and ginger. We've never tried that before. We'll tell you how it is in six weeks!

- Alanna

Fertility

Here is a great little peek into the power of fertilizing.  There are many, many things that a gardener can spend time doing with a feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction e.g. tilling, weeding, building trellises, etc.  But in my book ensuring a fertile soil tops the list in terms of important things one should do to succeed at growing healthy and nutritious vegetables.  These two carrots were from the same seed pack and planted into two separate beds on the same day last spring.  And no, I did not take the runt from one bed and the best specimen of the other bed, these are average carrots from each spot.  The small one in the foreground (about the diameter of a dime) actually grew in mechanically superior soil we stripped of sod but otherwise left as it was "naturally".  The much larger carrot in the back grew in a bed we amended with a number of minerals our garden soil is deficient in according to "Albrechtian" principles.  We added calcium, sulfur, phosphorus, copper, zinc, manganese, and boron.  We also added a few pounds of kelp meal to the bed for trace minerals.  And some compost.  The flavor of the bigger carrot was a little better.

-Edmund

How the Garden Grows

These photos were taken a little over a month apart.  The second photo in the series was just a few days ago, and as you can see our garden is at its peak. Those are storage carrots in the foreground and celery and celery root to the right.  Like every year so far, our garden has had some failures and lessons to teach (I'm thinking about YOU slugs, and YOU, flea beetles!), but overwhelmingly the garden proves prosperous and bountiful.  We are set to have an amazing squash crop and it deserves a post of its own.  

I remember dubiously surveying the grassy knoll behind our house sites a few years ago as a potential garden site.  Now, it has become such a routine to walk up there to weed, play, or concoct a dinner plan from what I can pick.  It seems as though this garden has always been. 

-Normandy