Brian Boucheron Stuff and Also Things

Garlic Harvest

I had visitors last weekend. Somehow only one of them managed to get photographed. Rachel drove to Rome, and hitched a ride the rest of the way with my parents, who were on their way to Vermont to meet up with other Volkswagen Bus weirdos. So they got in fairly early on Friday, and we put her to work rather quickly after the folks left. For some reason we were a little behind in the harvest. Oh yeah… because a goat had a broken leg and there were vet visits and such to worry about. So Rachel and I harvested together whilst everybody else was off at the vet. We bunched up kale, beets, carrots, and lots of herbs. Probably some other stuff I’ve forgotten about as well. (Oh yeah! Two kinds of cucumbers and three squashies.)

So, it was nice to see her, and even though we couldn’t manage to chit-chat while harvesting and counting bunches and such, it was a nice plump weekend of activities. Too much walking to town and back though… I was getting more tired on my days off than during the week.

We took a short ride to Shelburne Falls, and wandered around there like touristy folk. There is a bridge of flowers that we walked along, with Rachel telling me what they all were and me forgetting them promptly. It was quite lovely, and I managed to take zero pictures. We got a frozen hot chocolate at a cafe, and it was delicious and not at all like a chocolate milkshake thank you.

The parents came back Sunday evening, and we went out to dinner at a local bar, of which I didn’t get the impression of “fine eatery”… but it was really quite good. I made everybody eat some mussels. And the desserts were fantastic looking, so we were all fatty-fats and pigged out. Then we came back and drank some beer and played pitch.

And then, everybody left me on Monday. Poo. Then it was back to the same old. Wednesday was a little different though… we harvested all the garlic. Not sure how much, we never did end up counting bulbs. It was about fifty pounds of seed garlic though. So we pulled it all up, laid it out, filled up a cart, dragged it to the barn, bunched it up, and hung it on strings. It was kindof my first blister-causing activity. My hands are a mess, which made it hard to weed and trellis tomatoes today.

It smells rather delicious walking through the barn now… and of course I’m making some hilarious vampire jokes.

The wee Guinea Fowl are one week closer to ugliness. Look at that elongating neck! They’ve been moved inside with their surrogate mother. Now they reside in an old playpen, and thankfully still make only cute chick sounds. I anticipate they’ll be out and about before they learn how to be more obnoxious. I wonder, will they act somewhat more chickenish then the other Guineas? Will they all get along? Probably not… they’re known for finding at least one of their own to pick on and excommunicate. Heartless poultry. I think I shall eat one of you after all.

Baby Noisemakers

Spring is long gone, yet we have some new babies on the farm, as of yesterday. We’ve had some guinea fowl eggs stuck underneath a broody hen (chicken) for what seems like months now (probably four weeks really)… so I decided to poke around underneath her and see if there was any activity. There was!

As you may be able to see, I discovered a guinea chick peeping around underneath the hen. Broody Hen (that’s what we’ve taken to calling her) quickly got used to everybody poking around underneath her to get a look, and now doesn’t even peck at you as you root around under her warm blobby broody body. The chicks are up and about today, pecking at some mash and getting wee baby drinks of water.

So that’s what passes for excitement around here. Entertainment, really. I realize I may have spoken poorly of the guineas in the past, but they’ve really grown on me this summer. They eat a lot of ticks, and don’t eat the vegetables in the garden. They run much faster and more elegantly than the fat chickens, have some level of personality (mostly “stupid”), and roam far and wide on the property, often stopping traffic in the road and exploring the neighbor’s yards. Plus, they can actually fly a little bit, yet choose to stick around and roost in our half-dead apple tree. How sweet. So in summary, I’m happy we’re growing up two more, and I hope they make it and I probably wont even try to slaughter them and bring them back to Rochester in freezer bags.

In other news, we’re catching up with our weeding, sortof. It was a long day in the tomato patch today, and my grab, twist, and pull muscles are tired. I reserved enough strength to do the evening milking, and now I get a rest. I suspect tomorrow will involve some weeding of the melon beds. And the winter squash. And the corn. And the pumpkins. Blah. It is rather hot and humid here, and today I considered becoming one of those people who complains about the weather (a retiree?)… but, anything under ninety and I refuse to change out of my work pants and into shorts… so no bellyaching. There was a nice breeze today, but apparently not at ground level. The trees whooshed and swooshed, yet there was stillness down in the weeds. Hot days make me wear sunscreen. Obviously that’s stupid, as the quantity of solar radiation apparently has no bearing on my application, just warmth. I guess it correlates pretty well. I’m rather tanned, but still feel I could get pinky after a long day in the sun.

I’m babbling. It is time to shut in the chickens and chicks, and then head to bed. Much visitor preparation is needed tomorrow, along with weeding and laundry and on and on.

Misty Morning

It has been rather warm and moist here lately. I woke up today (Sunday, my “day off”) at around five, with the sun peeking in the hayloft doors (which are now permanently open to ventilate the goat butt barn scent). I’m not sure what compelled me to bound out of bed and take pictures. Perhaps my lack of doing so for the past two weeks. Or perhaps because the sun had a particular hazy, diffuse quality that I knew would be gone pretty quickly.

So off I went. It was my first t-shirt-only morning… plus muck boots, dress pants, suspenders, and my camera bag. I guess I got some ok shots.

Anyways, the point of all this was that it is rather pretty here, I’ve found. Yesterday after the market I took some detours on my bike ride back. Various dirt roads deep into dark dark woods smelling slightly acidic and decayed. Some were shortcuts between more civilized roads. Some went beyond my means of locomotion, with steep descents that I didn’t feel like tackling in the opposite direction.

There were lots of hills.

It was all quiet and beautiful, with woods and cows and barns and fields and streams and gardens and an old round brick schoolhouse and a beehive on somebody’s porch roof (bearproofing, I suppose) and hills and valleys and misty bits and clotheslines and nice views and nice smells. I will have to do more exploring, at more photogenic times of day and with my camera on board.

All this mist and haze is, unfortunately, because it is durn hot here. Only low nineties really, but it doesn’t feel nice. We went from steady rain and a flood warning Thursday night and Friday morning (when I got soaked through my “rain suit” while moving the sheep) to the nineties on Saturday, and through the next few days it seems. Last night was quite interesting, clear skies overhead and clouds with silent lightning off in the distance (I guess you may call it heat lightning, but it’s really just a normal storm you can’t hear due to distance or refraction of sound waves (says the internets), so let us just call it lightning, ok?).

In wildlife news, I saw a black bear a few nights ago, with two cubs close behind. They were basically at the tree line you can see in the pictures above… which is rather too close to where we have the boy sheep currently. They freaked out a bit. Doggie inspection revealed no bears in the woods shortly after I spotted them, so maybe they were just passing through for a dip in the stream (something that has crossed my mind recently).

Derek found the guinea hen’s nest, with something like twenty eggs piled up in there. A few were placed underneath the broody chicken hen in the coop, so we’ll see if anything hatches. I guess most people will remove the eggs and store them until the hen is ready to sit for a while… because they don’t start sitting until they’ve got them all out. I guess that makes sense. I’ve taken to liking the guineas, even though they’re obnoxiously loud. They don’t eat the crops and keep me from getting ticks. They can stay for now.

Rainy Days

I seem to keep getting yelled at for my blog inaction. I guess my five readers are desperate for farm-based updates. This past weekend was a rainy and semi-lazy one. It actually started on Thursday with a rainy and cold day, which kept us inside for most everything but the chores. It felt like a weird day of waiting to work but not doing anything, and I got a little screwed up. It really wasn’t a day off in my brain, but I tried to make that mental transition, knowing that we’d have to make up time on Saturday or Sunday.

Friday was equally cold and rainy. We had a mob of children come visit the farm, which was… entertaining. I took some photos and then ran and hid in the barn. They appeared to enjoy seeing all of the animals and petting lambs and whatnot. If I recall my field-trip days though, they were probably just happy to be outside, roughhousing and doing nothing constructive.

Saturday and Sunday continued the trend of cold and rain. We moved animals on Sunday, just so we could say we got some durn work done for once. Oh, and also because the oxen kept getting out of their fence, due to the fact that they had eaten up all their pasture, and oh look, there’s green grass right over there!

Oh! So that’s a good story, I suppose. One of the goats was due to kid on Friday. So after the kids (human) all left and Derek and Maribeth left the farm to go do something, I go outside to check on the goat and make sure there’s no signs of labor yet. But there was a rather prominent sign, that being a baby goat on the ground, covered in goo. Yikes! So I ran inside to tell Adam (the other intern) and we went out and started pretending to know what we were doing. Meanwhile Gregory from up the hill pulls into the driveway, honking and carrying on. This is when we were notified that the oxen were out and heading towards the garden. (!)

So somehow it was decided that Adam would take care of the midwifery and I would go pretend to be a teamster and get the oxen back where they belong. I ran and got their leads and lickin’ stick and set off hoping for the best. I guess it’d be a better story if there was any difficulty, but it was really absurdly easy. I’m not sure if they’re like dogs, in that you have to sound dominant or wrassle them and win before they listen to you… but once I got their leads on (which is really the hardest part, but a bowl of grain helps keep them from running away) they seemed to accept fate and do as they were told. Luckily, I had just worked out a mnemonic to remember the commands… gee, haw, hip, woah are the basics. Gee means go right, and I remember that because it sounds like “get” in the redneck accent used to yell at Rachel’s dogs, and since you lead from the left it works out, spatially speaking. Haw is for going left, and it reminds me of southpaw, so that’s pretty easy. Hip is the opposite of woah, and if you don’t know woah then you’ve never had your mom pour milk for you.

Also, I found a Guinea egg over the weekend. Guinea Fowl are terrible poultry-like-objects that I’ve probably complained about before. They make lots of noise and seem even dumber than chickens. They hang out in the yak pen alot, and indeed that is where I found the farm’s first Guinea Fowl egg. It’s a bit squatter and smaller than your normal chicken egg, with a rougher shell. I failed to photograph it whilst frying, but it had a larger yolk than one would expect, with very little white. The yolk was very orange, almost reddish inside, no doubt from all the god-knows-what they’re eating out on the farm every day.

It tasted like any ol’ egg. I found two more yesterday, and ate those too.