The bounty of the growing season has been good. Potatoes stored in the dark corner of the cellar. The freezers full: corn, rhubarb, green beans and pork. The canning rack sags under the rows of maple syrup, applesauce, pickles and canned vegetables.
Now, more than ever before, we are enjoying home grown meals. A typical fall supper at our house might include new potatoes, fresh picked broccoli, baked kale, buttercup squash and fresh goat's milk. Only the salt and the butter came from the grocery store. This year the kids really enjoy a meal they helped to plant in the spring, weed through the summer and pick fresh for the supper table.
Pulling a sweet carrot right out of the dirt and eating it on the walk back from the garden is hard to beat. It makes you really appreciate how we humans come from dirt, spend most of our life eating from it and eventually become dirt again when we die. A real circle of life.
This year we have stored away more food than ever before. Mostly it is our growing kids that remind us of how important our natural food is. We got a great potatoe crop from the 8 shared rows of Kennebec potatoes we planted in some new ground at the Old Homestead. Grammie & Grampa Wheeler spent lots of hours vacuuming potatoe bugs off the tender plants. Thats one way to avoid sprays. The carrots really needed to be thinned a little more, so they didn't do quite as well as we had hoped. After a second planting of sweet corn, the crop came a little late, but continued into early October. The pumpkins did well enough and some of the squash did too. The cucumbers were unstoppable, in fact we just had some cucumber slices for lunch today on October 25th!
As with any family, no matter the generation, there are some things that we just haven't learned how to make for ourselves. Here at Juniper Hill Farm, when we are out of toilet paper and peanut butter it's time to take a little cash and stop by the local grocery store. Nearly everything else can wait.
Why don't we all set a goal for the coming year to do for ourselves, become more self-sufficient and enjoys the fruits of our labors all year long.
Good Luck.
"Unemployment is capitalism's way of getting you to plant a garden." ~ O.S.Card
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
A country boy can Survive
"I'd like to spit some Beechnut in that dude's eye, or shoot him with my old 45" - Hank Williams, Jr.
Nicely said Bocephus, this is a real country boy anthem, "A Country Boy Can Survive". Now to all us out here, men or women, we have different ideas of what it means to survive. To some it means making it to payday with a few bucks left in their pocket. While others try to make it through work so they can stop for a six-pack of Bud Lite on the way home. Rambo was clearly a survivor, but he might have gone too far. That IS surviving, but that's not for me.
Now on the farm, survival is not guaranteed, just ask the rooster. He decided that he was the boss of the hen house and that the little girl collecting eggs was a threat to his position. In case your guessing, the rooster had about 5 seconds to consider his position before I showed him the way to the deep freeze. Just a note to all you other fathers and farmers out there, wait until the kids are gone, it will be easier that way. But make no mistake about it, I'M THE BOSS AROUND HERE. (I asked my wife if I could write that, and she said it was OK.)
Now as winter nears, I am proud to be able to grow vegetables for my family, put up six cord of hardwood for the winter heating season and to put meat on the table. I do the chores twice a day, every day, without complaint. At our farm, work is not a four letter word, instead, it is by hard work that we get the best reward.
Nicely said Bocephus, this is a real country boy anthem, "A Country Boy Can Survive". Now to all us out here, men or women, we have different ideas of what it means to survive. To some it means making it to payday with a few bucks left in their pocket. While others try to make it through work so they can stop for a six-pack of Bud Lite on the way home. Rambo was clearly a survivor, but he might have gone too far. That IS surviving, but that's not for me.
Now on the farm, survival is not guaranteed, just ask the rooster. He decided that he was the boss of the hen house and that the little girl collecting eggs was a threat to his position. In case your guessing, the rooster had about 5 seconds to consider his position before I showed him the way to the deep freeze. Just a note to all you other fathers and farmers out there, wait until the kids are gone, it will be easier that way. But make no mistake about it, I'M THE BOSS AROUND HERE. (I asked my wife if I could write that, and she said it was OK.)
Now as winter nears, I am proud to be able to grow vegetables for my family, put up six cord of hardwood for the winter heating season and to put meat on the table. I do the chores twice a day, every day, without complaint. At our farm, work is not a four letter word, instead, it is by hard work that we get the best reward.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Where has the spring gone?
As spring is racing onward, summer is coming soon. Here are just a few of the things that I've been doing around the farm these last three weeks.
Spread hen manure on hay fields at homestead.
Traded a pony & saddle for $200 and a milk goat.
Cleaned front yard at Oak Hill.
Mowed grass a couple of times.
Rototilled and spread compost on home garden.
Doctoring some lambs and a visit from the vet.
Went fishing a couple of times.
Van and house struck by lightning. The van was 9 years old and has left behind 6 stranded passengers. Funeral services will be announced at a later date.
Around 25 baseball and softball games for the kids.
Entertained visitors from out of town.
Walked in the woods a few times.
Spring cleaning is underway here as well. After 15 years of collecting stuff, the stuff is taking over. Look out, if it's not hooked down it might be tossed or given away. I have considered moving just so we could get rid of some extra possessions. The kids have suggested becoming Amish, would that help?
We have the gardens nearly in, just a few more things to plant.
Next is ther haying, continuing with the firewood and possibly some time swimming. We'll post some pics soon. Thanks for visiting.
Spread hen manure on hay fields at homestead.
Traded a pony & saddle for $200 and a milk goat.
Cleaned front yard at Oak Hill.
Mowed grass a couple of times.
Rototilled and spread compost on home garden.
Doctoring some lambs and a visit from the vet.
Went fishing a couple of times.
Van and house struck by lightning. The van was 9 years old and has left behind 6 stranded passengers. Funeral services will be announced at a later date.
Around 25 baseball and softball games for the kids.
Entertained visitors from out of town.
Walked in the woods a few times.
Spring cleaning is underway here as well. After 15 years of collecting stuff, the stuff is taking over. Look out, if it's not hooked down it might be tossed or given away. I have considered moving just so we could get rid of some extra possessions. The kids have suggested becoming Amish, would that help?
We have the gardens nearly in, just a few more things to plant.
Next is ther haying, continuing with the firewood and possibly some time swimming. We'll post some pics soon. Thanks for visiting.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Work Hard - Play Harder
I Love a Rainy Night
As you know, we are underway with our house restoration project. (See my December 1, 2010 post) In our "spare" time I slip away from the farm and office to work on the old house. But don't worry, I stop every once in a while to have some fun.
Each day I work away from home I make a funny video for the kids to show them what I did that day. This was a cold day in January when a good old Eddie Rabbitt tune came on the radio. I hope you think its a bit silly.
As you know, we are underway with our house restoration project. (See my December 1, 2010 post) In our "spare" time I slip away from the farm and office to work on the old house. But don't worry, I stop every once in a while to have some fun.
Each day I work away from home I make a funny video for the kids to show them what I did that day. This was a cold day in January when a good old Eddie Rabbitt tune came on the radio. I hope you think its a bit silly.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Farm Pics
"Julie" the littlest piglet has moved into the house and is enjoying an evening beside the woodstove. 
Finnigan and Fagan are wondering who is snapping so many photos. 
The rain is coming down hard tonight, hopefully the rain will make the grass grow tall. I love a rainy night.
Finnigan and Fagan are wondering who is snapping so many photos. 
The rain is coming down hard tonight, hopefully the rain will make the grass grow tall. I love a rainy night.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Piglets have arrived!!!
After months of waiting and wondering, the piglets have arrived. A first here at Juniper Hill Farm, our new mom pig brought six healthy little piglets into the world, with a little helping hand from the Gatherer and Farmer. Number Six proved to be a little too big, so he needed a little encouragement. Six would be considered a small litter for the commercial guys, but we're happy to see our big sow be so careful and gentle with her tiny babies.
It's dinner time. With 12 nipples and six piglets there is plenty to go around.
After supper for Mama and babies, it's time for some shut eye.
Mama pig, we call her Perry, is always careful not to step on or lie on her young. The six piglets are full and dreaming of rooting in the garden later this summer.
Here's a close-up of "Red". He's too busy with supper to smile for the camera.
Tonight we gave the piglets an iron shot and clipped their needle teeth. We distracted mom with her supper while I "pignapped" her babes for a few minutes. Be careful with a mama pig, she doesn't like to hear her babies squeal. Luckily for me, Perry is good natured and she trusts me to be in her pen.
On another note, we have been glad to see such an interest in farming lately from our local friends. It seems that the rising food prices have got rural folks to be thinking about producing more of their own food. In these hard economic times families are gathering closer together to share their limited recources. With gasoline an nearly $4/gallon, we'll be staying close to home as well this summer. Remember, now is the time to be cutting your firewood for next winter. We'll be soon planting our garden for summer and fall harvest. As for food from away - JUST SAY NO. Buy local.
It's dinner time. With 12 nipples and six piglets there is plenty to go around.
After supper for Mama and babies, it's time for some shut eye.
Mama pig, we call her Perry, is always careful not to step on or lie on her young. The six piglets are full and dreaming of rooting in the garden later this summer.
Here's a close-up of "Red". He's too busy with supper to smile for the camera.
Tonight we gave the piglets an iron shot and clipped their needle teeth. We distracted mom with her supper while I "pignapped" her babes for a few minutes. Be careful with a mama pig, she doesn't like to hear her babies squeal. Luckily for me, Perry is good natured and she trusts me to be in her pen.
On another note, we have been glad to see such an interest in farming lately from our local friends. It seems that the rising food prices have got rural folks to be thinking about producing more of their own food. In these hard economic times families are gathering closer together to share their limited recources. With gasoline an nearly $4/gallon, we'll be staying close to home as well this summer. Remember, now is the time to be cutting your firewood for next winter. We'll be soon planting our garden for summer and fall harvest. As for food from away - JUST SAY NO. Buy local.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Piglets are coming
As I write this, I believe that we will in fact have some piglets here at Juniper Hill Farm in the near future. For the last three months I've been watching our gilts (potential first time mama pigs) and wondering if they were pregnant or just fat. That reminds me of the time I asked a neighborhood friend when she was expecting, NO she wasn't pregnant, JUST FAT. OOps.
Well, now I'm 99% sure that Perry is expecting soon. I've been reading on how to prepare for the coming births, how to protect the piglets from getting squished, and how much to feed the mama pig. The good news to all this fuss is that there should be no trouble in selling any surviving piglets. The prices seem to be high this spring, maybe a little reward for the hundreds of pounds of grain that she's eaten these last few months.
When we get a live birth I'll be sure to post some pictures. Now here's a thought, Juniper Hill Hog Farm. I like the sound of that, besides I'm sure that The Gardener would be more excited in being married to The Hog Farmer.
Well, now I'm 99% sure that Perry is expecting soon. I've been reading on how to prepare for the coming births, how to protect the piglets from getting squished, and how much to feed the mama pig. The good news to all this fuss is that there should be no trouble in selling any surviving piglets. The prices seem to be high this spring, maybe a little reward for the hundreds of pounds of grain that she's eaten these last few months.
When we get a live birth I'll be sure to post some pictures. Now here's a thought, Juniper Hill Hog Farm. I like the sound of that, besides I'm sure that The Gardener would be more excited in being married to The Hog Farmer.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Homesteading 2011
Homesteading - What does it mean to you? Is it the "gentlemen farmer" with the new Kubota and a a small flock of sheep? Yes, it might be. Will he use more than he produces? Yes, probably. But he is surely farming in a way.
Is it the family of 5 with a dozen laying hens and maybe a pig pen in the backyard? Yes, I would say that they are homesteading as well. They are producing some of their food, helping to supplement their family's grocery store food needs.
Maybe you can plant just a few tomatoes where the tulips were last year, yes, that's homesteading. Give it a try.
As the 2011 growing season comes near I suggest that we expand our horizons, try something that we've never tried before. Plant some potatoes, maybe some more corn, certainly some green beans. Can, freeze of preserve our harvest. This will benefit our family, not only financially but we'll know what we are eating as well. Raise some laying hens, let them rule the backyard. Try a hog if you're ready.
Let's send a message to the national grocery store chains that we don't need their wasteful packaging, their chemically altered "food" and their rising prices. Let's know what we are eating, Let's eat local, Let's feed our families what we produce.
Is it the family of 5 with a dozen laying hens and maybe a pig pen in the backyard? Yes, I would say that they are homesteading as well. They are producing some of their food, helping to supplement their family's grocery store food needs.
Maybe you can plant just a few tomatoes where the tulips were last year, yes, that's homesteading. Give it a try.
As the 2011 growing season comes near I suggest that we expand our horizons, try something that we've never tried before. Plant some potatoes, maybe some more corn, certainly some green beans. Can, freeze of preserve our harvest. This will benefit our family, not only financially but we'll know what we are eating as well. Raise some laying hens, let them rule the backyard. Try a hog if you're ready.
Let's send a message to the national grocery store chains that we don't need their wasteful packaging, their chemically altered "food" and their rising prices. Let's know what we are eating, Let's eat local, Let's feed our families what we produce.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Frogs return
I heard the frogs calling tonight, a sure sign of Spring. The ice has receeded from the pond in the last two days and life has returned. We are looking to Spring temperatures and the promise of growth in the gardens.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Waiting on the Pigs
Now here I am, a real Farmer, if there ever was one, raising our own milk, meat and vegetables, just carrying on like many generations before. Jack of all trades, but maybe a master of none, and here comes some pigs and its got me looking like a fool. Are the sows expecting? Or are they just fat? Who knows. But for sure when something happens, I'll let you know. We'll either be getting some more bacon or we'll be having some piglets for sale. Just waiting and watching now.
Monday, April 4, 2011
More farm products coming soon
Welcome back friends, the snow that we got on April 1st here in Bowdoin is quickly melting away. The Maple Sugaring season has also come to an end here at Juniper Hill Farm for 2011. We had a record year for our little operation and produced 31 gallons of Pure Maine Maple Syrup. While we love to use our maple syrup in many ways, we surely will have some to sell to our friends and neighbors. This year we collected 1200 gallons of sap from 130 taps, burned 3 cord of firewood and spent over 120 hours in the Sugar House tending the evaporator. This is a labor of love, and getting rich is out of the question. Feeding time for Abigail and Casper.
The goats are doing great as well. We've had 4 does give birth so far, 2 doelings and 5 bucklings. Everyone is healthy and growing, waiting for the coming spring days in the pasture. I'm milking the does and feeding the kids with the bottle. The kids are really a lot of fun, especially at feeding time. This year we have also had some local folks that want to try goat's milk for their own family as well, so we'll give that a try.
Another of my Spring projects is to build a farmstand for selling some of our farm products. I've got the lumber, now I just need to find the time. I believe that local food production is more valuable now than ever before. The cost of fuel to ship strawberries from Mexico or apple juice from Chile is such a poor use of our natural resources. Yes, buying local can make it hard to find some things in the winter, but not impossible. Next time you're in the grocery store, take a look at where our food comes from and what its made of. Then make a point to stop by your local farmer's market or neighborhood farmstand to support local agriculture.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Maine Maple Sunday - Thanks for Coming
We would like to thank everyone that came to our first Maine Maple Sunday Open House to make it such a wonderful success. Many months ago when we committed to hosting an open Sugar House we knew that it would be a lot of work and preparation, but it was certainly worth it. We were able to share the day with about 150 guests, including family, old friends, neighbors, and some new friends as well. The youngest guest was only 6 weeks old, and the oldest was 90! I guess the Magic of Maple knows no age limits.
We of course shared our love for Maple Sugaring, but we also had the barn open with all the baby goats, lamb, rabbits and pigs. In the house the kids could peer into the chick brooder and look at the day old chicks that had just hatched in our small incubator. Many folks enjoyed tours of our Sugar Trail and Pond Trail, guided by our little helpers: Isaac, Mary, Caroline and Gideon.
Maybe the surprise hit of the day was our homemade goats milk ice cream. Several guests suggested that we should sell it, but we just wanted to share this special treat without anyone having to get out their wallet.
We also were blessed to have some fine Maine made pottery for sale at our sale table. My sister, Sarah Delaney has recently refocused her time on her one-of-kind pottery art. She has founded Phoenix Pottery with an emphasis on function as well as fashion. Using raw Maine blue marine clay from a local source, she debuted some fine earthenware, including a beautiful pitcher for serving our pure Maine Maple Syrup. We will certainly be bragging about this artist in the future.
In the future I'll post some pictures from Maple Sunday, once we've had a little time to rest. But we won't rest for too long, the sap tank is full, so tomorrow we'll be boiling again. I think that our goal of 25 gallons of syrup is in reach, we just have to keep the fire burning hot.
Thanks for visiting and God Bless.
We of course shared our love for Maple Sugaring, but we also had the barn open with all the baby goats, lamb, rabbits and pigs. In the house the kids could peer into the chick brooder and look at the day old chicks that had just hatched in our small incubator. Many folks enjoyed tours of our Sugar Trail and Pond Trail, guided by our little helpers: Isaac, Mary, Caroline and Gideon.
Maybe the surprise hit of the day was our homemade goats milk ice cream. Several guests suggested that we should sell it, but we just wanted to share this special treat without anyone having to get out their wallet.
We also were blessed to have some fine Maine made pottery for sale at our sale table. My sister, Sarah Delaney has recently refocused her time on her one-of-kind pottery art. She has founded Phoenix Pottery with an emphasis on function as well as fashion. Using raw Maine blue marine clay from a local source, she debuted some fine earthenware, including a beautiful pitcher for serving our pure Maine Maple Syrup. We will certainly be bragging about this artist in the future.
In the future I'll post some pictures from Maple Sunday, once we've had a little time to rest. But we won't rest for too long, the sap tank is full, so tomorrow we'll be boiling again. I think that our goal of 25 gallons of syrup is in reach, we just have to keep the fire burning hot.
Thanks for visiting and God Bless.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Maine Maple Sunday - March 27, 2011
You are invited to
Maine Maple Sunday
Juniper Hill Farm
Sunday, March 27, 2011
An Open House from 10 AM – 4 PM
We will have our small family run Sugar House up and running, as well as family and kid friendly activities. Sugar Houses across the State of Maine are open for folks to come and enjoy this sweet New England tradition.
On our growing and developing family farm, we produce food and goods for our family such as maple syrup, goats’ milk, eggs, meat and garden produce, seasonally. We always love to share with others who are interested in learning about how we provide natural food for our family and like to help encourage others to see how farming may fit their life.
What to expect on Maine Maple Sunday:
• Visit the Sugar House and learn how maple syrup is made.
• Take a walk on the Sugar Trail – learn to identity some Maine native trees and other scavenger hunt activities.
• Journey to the Barn and meet our newborn baby goats and lamb as well as our other barnyard animals. Learn how we care for our dairy goats.
• Enjoy Homemade Ice cream, Sweet Treats, Maine Made Pottery and other Special tidbits.
Remember that it is mud season in Maine, so for a more enjoyable experience on the Trails and in the Barnyard, bring your mud boots, warm clothes, and maybe a change of clothes for the little ones.
We look forward to seeing you on Sunday!
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
A safe return
We're glad to have a friend safely returned from a year long deployment in Afganistan with Maine Army National Guard. Mike and his whole unit made it through safely, a true blessing.
We're looking forward to catching up with some war stories. God Bless.
We're looking forward to catching up with some war stories. God Bless.
Monday, February 28, 2011
An Apple Cider Tradition
The cold temperatures of late have got me thinking of warmer days to come. After the sugar house is closed-up for the year and the snow has melted away, the apple trees will blossom and begin making the apples that will be enjoyed throughout the year. As with so many things on the farm, the apple crop is dependent on the grace of God's hand to deliver a bountiful harvest.
This picture taken around 1930 shows the old cider mill that once stood on the Wagg Homestead here in Bowdoin, Maine.
The old Wagg Homestead, as we call it, was originally built by the Grover family, probably around the 1770's or 1780's. My grandmother grew up here, during the 1920's and 30's. By this time the farm and its buildings were in decline, like so much of rural Maine during this period. Bowdoin's population had peaked near 1600 in the 1860's, but by the 1930's was less than 500. The few families that stayed on the old homesteads were of the sturdiest New England stock. I am proud to say that I come from combination of several such families.
The cider mill shown here sat just south of the old stagecoach road that ran through the farm. Never much more than a pair of wheel ruts, the road was the lifeline that brought visitors and business to the farm and lead to the markets in Lisbon Falls or Litchfield and beyond. I have imagined a cool morning in early October when a heavy laden wagon, hauled by a pair of Durham oxen, would make its way across the gristmill stream bridge and grind its way to a stop in front of the cider mill. Mr. Grover had been in the mill for more than an hour preparing the mill for the days work. The mill's blades must be carefully honed, to assure a fine chop of the apples. The belts must be checked and tightened if the need be. The press blankets and forms must be readied for service.
After a hearty handshake and greeting, the men would unload the baskets of apples into the end of the cider mill. Care had been taken to keep the apples clean and free of debris that would taint the precious cider. Apples that were rotted would be kept and cooked for the hogs. I have speculated that this cider mill was run by a horse walking on a treadmill. Later versions would use steam power to run the mill, but that seems unlikely here.
Bushel by bushel the apples would be run through the chopper, and were reduced to a finely ground "pummy". Cider would begin to run almost immediately, and it was all caught and sent down the sluice into the waiting barrel. After the grinding was complete, the pummy would be pressed under extreme pressure, forcing the juice out, leaving a dry tasteless pulp. This old pummy would be cooked and fed to the livestock, nothing was wasted.
The golden cider poured out of the pummy and into the wooden barrel. When the pressing was over a wooden bung was pounded into the barrel and it was loaded onto the wagon for the trip home. Some of the cider would be enjoyed fresh, some made to vinegar. Most farmhouses also kept a small barrel hidden under the cellar steps. This barrel was cared for by the man of the house and samples were offered to special visitors. Many local folks, including my family were known to possess some "hard cider" from time to time. Just another way to provide for their own needs. On this day, the business was completed by bartering. The Grover's would keep a portion of the cider as payment for their labors.
This farm, like the few that remained in Bowdoin in this time, was a subsistence farm where subsistence was not guaranteed. A late frost or wet season meant near disaster for these back country families. When I write about "providing for ourselves" I am almost ashamed that we are so DEPENDENT when my forefathers were so INDEPENDENT.
This picture taken around 1930 shows the old cider mill that once stood on the Wagg Homestead here in Bowdoin, Maine.
The old Wagg Homestead, as we call it, was originally built by the Grover family, probably around the 1770's or 1780's. My grandmother grew up here, during the 1920's and 30's. By this time the farm and its buildings were in decline, like so much of rural Maine during this period. Bowdoin's population had peaked near 1600 in the 1860's, but by the 1930's was less than 500. The few families that stayed on the old homesteads were of the sturdiest New England stock. I am proud to say that I come from combination of several such families.
The cider mill shown here sat just south of the old stagecoach road that ran through the farm. Never much more than a pair of wheel ruts, the road was the lifeline that brought visitors and business to the farm and lead to the markets in Lisbon Falls or Litchfield and beyond. I have imagined a cool morning in early October when a heavy laden wagon, hauled by a pair of Durham oxen, would make its way across the gristmill stream bridge and grind its way to a stop in front of the cider mill. Mr. Grover had been in the mill for more than an hour preparing the mill for the days work. The mill's blades must be carefully honed, to assure a fine chop of the apples. The belts must be checked and tightened if the need be. The press blankets and forms must be readied for service.
After a hearty handshake and greeting, the men would unload the baskets of apples into the end of the cider mill. Care had been taken to keep the apples clean and free of debris that would taint the precious cider. Apples that were rotted would be kept and cooked for the hogs. I have speculated that this cider mill was run by a horse walking on a treadmill. Later versions would use steam power to run the mill, but that seems unlikely here.
Bushel by bushel the apples would be run through the chopper, and were reduced to a finely ground "pummy". Cider would begin to run almost immediately, and it was all caught and sent down the sluice into the waiting barrel. After the grinding was complete, the pummy would be pressed under extreme pressure, forcing the juice out, leaving a dry tasteless pulp. This old pummy would be cooked and fed to the livestock, nothing was wasted.
The golden cider poured out of the pummy and into the wooden barrel. When the pressing was over a wooden bung was pounded into the barrel and it was loaded onto the wagon for the trip home. Some of the cider would be enjoyed fresh, some made to vinegar. Most farmhouses also kept a small barrel hidden under the cellar steps. This barrel was cared for by the man of the house and samples were offered to special visitors. Many local folks, including my family were known to possess some "hard cider" from time to time. Just another way to provide for their own needs. On this day, the business was completed by bartering. The Grover's would keep a portion of the cider as payment for their labors.
This farm, like the few that remained in Bowdoin in this time, was a subsistence farm where subsistence was not guaranteed. A late frost or wet season meant near disaster for these back country families. When I write about "providing for ourselves" I am almost ashamed that we are so DEPENDENT when my forefathers were so INDEPENDENT.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Images of the sugarhouse
I wanted to share some more pictures of our sugarhouse with you all. At the center of it is the evaporator. We have a 2'x4' flat pan that works well for us while it's much smaller than those used in the big sugarhouses.
Here I'm finishing bricking the arch, to protect the steel frame from the heat of the fire.
The beauty of this little evaporator is that it is quite kid friendly and the mystery of sugar making is revealed to even the smallest helpers. Our kids are used to wood stoves in the house, so the intense heat of the arch is carefully avoided. I've had one little girl check with her finger to see if it was hot. Yup it was.
We burn fine split pine, fir and hemlock in our evaporator. We've found that most of this pulp wood would have been left to rot in the woods, so it makes good sense to use it for sugaring instead. We've got a 6" stack that carries the smoke up and outside.
When the snow is deep, these snowshoes will be used by the kids to help collect the sap. This year we've had lots of snow so the snowshoes will be used a lot.
We still collect our sap in buckets, the old fashioned way. Its hard work but it is also lots of fun.
Here is a picture of the whole setup. We'll make some changes this year, but overall we're ready for the sap to run.
Remember we'll be open on March 27th, 2011 for Maine Maple Sunday, so plan to stop by if you get a chance.
Here I'm finishing bricking the arch, to protect the steel frame from the heat of the fire.
The beauty of this little evaporator is that it is quite kid friendly and the mystery of sugar making is revealed to even the smallest helpers. Our kids are used to wood stoves in the house, so the intense heat of the arch is carefully avoided. I've had one little girl check with her finger to see if it was hot. Yup it was.
We burn fine split pine, fir and hemlock in our evaporator. We've found that most of this pulp wood would have been left to rot in the woods, so it makes good sense to use it for sugaring instead. We've got a 6" stack that carries the smoke up and outside.
When the snow is deep, these snowshoes will be used by the kids to help collect the sap. This year we've had lots of snow so the snowshoes will be used a lot.
We still collect our sap in buckets, the old fashioned way. Its hard work but it is also lots of fun.
Here is a picture of the whole setup. We'll make some changes this year, but overall we're ready for the sap to run.
Remember we'll be open on March 27th, 2011 for Maine Maple Sunday, so plan to stop by if you get a chance.
Monday, February 14, 2011
the legend of the maple sky
An original short story by Reuben J. Wheeler
One frosty March night I stood in the doorway of the sugarhouse and watched the steam rise from the boiling sap. Like a ghost, illuminated by the glow of the late winter moon, it rose, danced and vanished into the night sky.
I looked north, over the silhouette of the barn, the sleeping barn, the animals fed and bedded for the night. In the sky I saw a multitude of stars, as far as I could see. Some were peeking through the pine grove at the back of the pasture. Some stars were bright in the cold night sky, and some were so faint I wasn't sure they were there at all. One set of stars stood bold and familiar, high in the speckled sky.
Since the earliest years of my life I remember the nightly walk that I shared with my Father, back from the barn, up the worn path across the lawn and into the comfort of the old farm house.
Every cloudless night we would stand, looking up with the hope of catching a glimpse of a shooting star. Father would point to the Big Dipper and trace its shape with his finger. The bent handle, the cup, pointing the way to the North Star. "The North Star never moves", he would say. I learned early that our northern sky rotates on the North Star, guiding the hunter, the fisherman and the explorer alike. The North Star begins the handle for the little dipper, the other vessel gracing our northern sky.
But this March night something was different. The Big Dipper hung high in the heavens, tipped, pouring its contents onto the countryside below. I imagined the Big Dipper draining its sweet hold down into the dark forest. The oaks and ash were still sleeping, waiting for the coming season of growth, their buds tucked tightly away, their roots dormant, their trunks cold and hard. The pines and hemlocks were bunched so closely together not even the March moon could pierce their darkness.
Some special trees in the woods were awake, looking skyward, longing for the warming days to come. These were the maples. Sugar, red and white, all different, but the same. Their limbs reaching toward the Big Dipper, catching the sweetness it offered. The sugar maples with their long limbs and spreading crown could catch the sweetest nectar and store it for the days to come. The reds and white were left to catch what the sugar maple had missed. Happy with what they had received, the maple trees would need to share their bounty.
Long before the white man set his sights on this new world, the native man had found the spring sweetness of the maples. At first just as a treat, the sugar in the maples soon became a tradition marking the changing of the seasons, from the slumber of winter to the rebirth of spring. Through the generations the natives and pioneers alike would notch the maples in the last days of winter and catch the sweet sap.
On our farm, for generations we have tapped the maples, to save this glimpse of sweetness. Collected by the children and carried to the kitchen, every pot and pan would be employed to hold and boil the sap away.
The limbwood stored in the woodshed would run a hot fire in the old cookstove to chase the water up and out the windows. At last, after days of adding wood and sap the maple syrup would remain. Carefully the thick syrup would be poured hot into a glass jar, cover tightened and stored on the shelf in the cellar stairway.
I know the pride that a child feels when, on a cold night in the fall, his mother asks him to fetch a jar of maple syrup. At that moment, as he reaches for the jar, he remembers it all. The walk through the deep snow to each tree, the old bit stock drill, the cast iron tap, the galvanized bucket and cover. He remembers the excitement of each visit to the biggest sugar maple. The buckets, nearly overflowing, waiting through the cold night only to begin again tomorrow, one drip at a time. Yes, there is much work to make even a cup of maple syrup, but like those before, the boy knows it is worth it.
That boy has grown now and has children of his own. The family farm remains intact, from the pine grove, the barn, the old house with the cookstove and the sugar maples. Hiding deep in the weathered trunk is the evidence of generations past, one tap at a time. Looking over it all, the Big Dipper tips slowly each late winter night and pours its sweetness onto the outstretched maples below.
copyright 2011
One frosty March night I stood in the doorway of the sugarhouse and watched the steam rise from the boiling sap. Like a ghost, illuminated by the glow of the late winter moon, it rose, danced and vanished into the night sky.
I looked north, over the silhouette of the barn, the sleeping barn, the animals fed and bedded for the night. In the sky I saw a multitude of stars, as far as I could see. Some were peeking through the pine grove at the back of the pasture. Some stars were bright in the cold night sky, and some were so faint I wasn't sure they were there at all. One set of stars stood bold and familiar, high in the speckled sky.
Since the earliest years of my life I remember the nightly walk that I shared with my Father, back from the barn, up the worn path across the lawn and into the comfort of the old farm house.
Every cloudless night we would stand, looking up with the hope of catching a glimpse of a shooting star. Father would point to the Big Dipper and trace its shape with his finger. The bent handle, the cup, pointing the way to the North Star. "The North Star never moves", he would say. I learned early that our northern sky rotates on the North Star, guiding the hunter, the fisherman and the explorer alike. The North Star begins the handle for the little dipper, the other vessel gracing our northern sky.
But this March night something was different. The Big Dipper hung high in the heavens, tipped, pouring its contents onto the countryside below. I imagined the Big Dipper draining its sweet hold down into the dark forest. The oaks and ash were still sleeping, waiting for the coming season of growth, their buds tucked tightly away, their roots dormant, their trunks cold and hard. The pines and hemlocks were bunched so closely together not even the March moon could pierce their darkness.
Some special trees in the woods were awake, looking skyward, longing for the warming days to come. These were the maples. Sugar, red and white, all different, but the same. Their limbs reaching toward the Big Dipper, catching the sweetness it offered. The sugar maples with their long limbs and spreading crown could catch the sweetest nectar and store it for the days to come. The reds and white were left to catch what the sugar maple had missed. Happy with what they had received, the maple trees would need to share their bounty.
Long before the white man set his sights on this new world, the native man had found the spring sweetness of the maples. At first just as a treat, the sugar in the maples soon became a tradition marking the changing of the seasons, from the slumber of winter to the rebirth of spring. Through the generations the natives and pioneers alike would notch the maples in the last days of winter and catch the sweet sap.
On our farm, for generations we have tapped the maples, to save this glimpse of sweetness. Collected by the children and carried to the kitchen, every pot and pan would be employed to hold and boil the sap away.
The limbwood stored in the woodshed would run a hot fire in the old cookstove to chase the water up and out the windows. At last, after days of adding wood and sap the maple syrup would remain. Carefully the thick syrup would be poured hot into a glass jar, cover tightened and stored on the shelf in the cellar stairway.
I know the pride that a child feels when, on a cold night in the fall, his mother asks him to fetch a jar of maple syrup. At that moment, as he reaches for the jar, he remembers it all. The walk through the deep snow to each tree, the old bit stock drill, the cast iron tap, the galvanized bucket and cover. He remembers the excitement of each visit to the biggest sugar maple. The buckets, nearly overflowing, waiting through the cold night only to begin again tomorrow, one drip at a time. Yes, there is much work to make even a cup of maple syrup, but like those before, the boy knows it is worth it.
That boy has grown now and has children of his own. The family farm remains intact, from the pine grove, the barn, the old house with the cookstove and the sugar maples. Hiding deep in the weathered trunk is the evidence of generations past, one tap at a time. Looking over it all, the Big Dipper tips slowly each late winter night and pours its sweetness onto the outstretched maples below.
copyright 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Visitors Welcome - Maine Maple Sunday 2011
Hello all, mark your calenders for Sunday March 27th, 2011 for Maine Maple Sunday. If you haven't heard about this before, its an open house for Maple Sugarhouses throughout the State of Maine. Since we now have a respectable sugarhouse we're going to invite our friends and neighbors to visit this year. Maybe next year we'll let the general public know that we're open if this year goes well.
On March 27th we should be right in the middle of sugaring season if Mother Nature allows and we'll have some free treats as well as some for sale. We'll have demonstrations on tapping maple trees, collecting the sap and or course boiling it down. We'll make it a kid friendly event, that's just the way we do it here.
Once you've looked around the sugarhouse you'll be invited to visit with the goats, and their baby kids, the sheep, hens, rabbits and maybe even some baby piglets will arrive by then (check out my last post). They look forward to seeing you.
So have faith on these cold winter days, Spring is coming, I'm sure. We hope to see you soon.
On March 27th we should be right in the middle of sugaring season if Mother Nature allows and we'll have some free treats as well as some for sale. We'll have demonstrations on tapping maple trees, collecting the sap and or course boiling it down. We'll make it a kid friendly event, that's just the way we do it here.
Once you've looked around the sugarhouse you'll be invited to visit with the goats, and their baby kids, the sheep, hens, rabbits and maybe even some baby piglets will arrive by then (check out my last post). They look forward to seeing you.
So have faith on these cold winter days, Spring is coming, I'm sure. We hope to see you soon.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
How to castrate a hog
Well, the Farmer continues to learn. If you don't want piglets, make sure your male pigs are castrated! The cute pig scramble pigs, caught in July are now 200lbs big, and eating a plenty. I failed to notice that the male pig had some strange large growths located just below his tail. I guess some would call them pig balls, or more correctly testicles. Yes, our scramble pig was not "cut" so we might have piglets for Easter, or before.
I've been told that a boar hog's meat would taste like urine, so he should be cut at least 5-6 weeks before he was butchered. Not to worry, I was assured by a couple of knowledgable hog farmers that he could be castrated, even at this late date. Here is how it would go.
1) Get a bucket loader tractor near to the pig pen.
2) Try to catch the male pig. This should really be split into a few steps.
2A) Get into pig pen with three 200lb pigs. (No I didn't count myself.)
2B) Try to grab the male by the back foot. Yes, that foot is kind of shitty and really slippery.
2C) Once you get a good hold on the foot, hold on for a few minutes while you are dragged around the pig pen on your face. Now you will be kind of shitty and really slippery.
2D) Get a strong rope around each rear leg and throw a loose end over the hook on the loader bucket.
3) Pick up the pig, just until his front feet are just touching the ground.
You'll have to stop now to answer to the police and assure them that you're not killing anyone and what you are doing is completely legal. Is it?
4) With the pig, head down, balls up, clean around the testicles with iodine or something similar. Don't spend too much time at this or someone might get the impression that you really enjoy it.
5) Now is the time to get our the razor blade, no not your Schick Quattro dummy, just a single old razor blade. Any sharp knife will do, but it must be really sharp.
Just about right now is where we seperate the men from the boys. You are right, the boys would have no problem going on, but most men are now having second thoughts. Do you really want to be a homesteader, do you want to become more self-sufficient, hell no, I want someone to do this dirty deed while I run into the house and turn up the radio.
I could describe the rest of the procedure at length here, but this blog is about the Farmer, not the Veterinarian, and I don't want to lead you astray. If I were to complete the procedure, I fear that it could go something like this.
6) As I began to cut the pigs scrotum, the poor bastard flipped his head up and took a big bite on my inner thigh.
7) In the struggle to take control of my pain I end up slitting my left index finger to the bone. Now we've got pig scrotum blood into my open finger wound.
8) I wrap my finger with a dirty towel from the barn and I'm determined to finish the job.
9) With one hand, and in considerable pain, I try to continue. But I find that the pig isn't holding still, his squealing is now louder than ever. Before I know it, we've got the county sheriff, the dog catcher, the local pastor and most of the neighbors in the barn yard. What a sight.
On second thoughts, maybe I'll sell the boar to another homesteader so he can breed a few more sows and find his way into a package of hot sausage. Yea, that sounds good.
In all seriousness, we had the pig slaughtered at our local slaughterhouse, and because he was only eight months old, his meat wasn't tainted or strong. The big boy just walked onto the livestock trailer, without any struggle. We'll keep the sows for a while to see if they are pregnant, and if they are, well I guess we'll be real hog farmers.
I've been told that a boar hog's meat would taste like urine, so he should be cut at least 5-6 weeks before he was butchered. Not to worry, I was assured by a couple of knowledgable hog farmers that he could be castrated, even at this late date. Here is how it would go.
1) Get a bucket loader tractor near to the pig pen.
2) Try to catch the male pig. This should really be split into a few steps.
2A) Get into pig pen with three 200lb pigs. (No I didn't count myself.)
2B) Try to grab the male by the back foot. Yes, that foot is kind of shitty and really slippery.
2C) Once you get a good hold on the foot, hold on for a few minutes while you are dragged around the pig pen on your face. Now you will be kind of shitty and really slippery.
2D) Get a strong rope around each rear leg and throw a loose end over the hook on the loader bucket.
3) Pick up the pig, just until his front feet are just touching the ground.
You'll have to stop now to answer to the police and assure them that you're not killing anyone and what you are doing is completely legal. Is it?
4) With the pig, head down, balls up, clean around the testicles with iodine or something similar. Don't spend too much time at this or someone might get the impression that you really enjoy it.
5) Now is the time to get our the razor blade, no not your Schick Quattro dummy, just a single old razor blade. Any sharp knife will do, but it must be really sharp.
Just about right now is where we seperate the men from the boys. You are right, the boys would have no problem going on, but most men are now having second thoughts. Do you really want to be a homesteader, do you want to become more self-sufficient, hell no, I want someone to do this dirty deed while I run into the house and turn up the radio.
I could describe the rest of the procedure at length here, but this blog is about the Farmer, not the Veterinarian, and I don't want to lead you astray. If I were to complete the procedure, I fear that it could go something like this.
6) As I began to cut the pigs scrotum, the poor bastard flipped his head up and took a big bite on my inner thigh.
7) In the struggle to take control of my pain I end up slitting my left index finger to the bone. Now we've got pig scrotum blood into my open finger wound.
8) I wrap my finger with a dirty towel from the barn and I'm determined to finish the job.
9) With one hand, and in considerable pain, I try to continue. But I find that the pig isn't holding still, his squealing is now louder than ever. Before I know it, we've got the county sheriff, the dog catcher, the local pastor and most of the neighbors in the barn yard. What a sight.
On second thoughts, maybe I'll sell the boar to another homesteader so he can breed a few more sows and find his way into a package of hot sausage. Yea, that sounds good.
In all seriousness, we had the pig slaughtered at our local slaughterhouse, and because he was only eight months old, his meat wasn't tainted or strong. The big boy just walked onto the livestock trailer, without any struggle. We'll keep the sows for a while to see if they are pregnant, and if they are, well I guess we'll be real hog farmers.
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