A faint knot of unease tightened in my chest this morning as I surveyed the familiar expanse of Gold Shaw Farm. An unusual stillness hung in the air, a silence where the lowing of cattle should have been. My heart did a little skip – where were they? The morning's attempt to coax the buck into cooperation had also been met with stubborn indifference, but the farm's rhythm waits for no one, not even a slightly panicked farmer. So, come along with me, friends, as we embark on the daily rituals, a slight air of mystery hanging over our usual routine.
"And good morning to my magnificent, snow-white farm dogs!" "Good morning, Mr. Toby Dog, my steadfast companion! How are you this fine morning, buddy? Always a good sight to see your wagging tail." And a special greeting to Miss Abington, our resident mischief-maker with surprisingly good manners when treats are involved. "Hi Miss Abington, how are you? Stay. Sit. Stay." Abby, bless her heart, is leagues ahead of Toby when it comes to obedience. Toby, bless his enthusiastic soul, gets so fixated on the impending treat that commands often evaporate into the morning mist. Abby, however, understands the social contract: manners equal rewards. "Abby, stay. Stay. Good girl!" Yes, she is undeniably the more obedient of the two. However, and this is a crucial distinction, Toby's inherent understanding of his job as a guardian surpasses Abby's. While she's diligently learning, Toby's self-directed nature and innate sense of duty make him the more effective protector of our flock. "Yeah, even though you're getting better, you're still a bit of mischief, Miss," I chuckled, scratching behind Abby's ears. And that, my friends, is how she earned the enduring moniker of "Misbehaving." "Hey weirdos!" I called out to our quirky flock of chickens. "Here's your food!" And a generous pour of fresh water for good measure. Yes, the "weird chicken flock," as I affectionately call them, has settled into their winter quarters quite nicely. Captain Janeway, Deb, and Carmen remain steadfast members of this motley crew, solidifying their roles as our core winter contingent. We still haven't bestowed names upon the three sisters hatched this spring, but a startling realization dawned on me as I observed the quartet. One of them, I'm fairly certain, is actually a rooster. Their original mother, a lovely Lavender Brown, remains closest to the house. These three youngsters hatched this spring, and I had confidently assumed they were all hens. But upon closer inspection this morning, particularly the one I'm looking at right now (yes, you!), I'm leaning heavily towards rooster status. This might necessitate a relocation in the future to avoid any familial springtime romances. I'm genuinely curious to hear your thoughts in the comments – what do you guys think? Just looking at their head and that developing crown, it bears a striking resemblance to what I've observed in many Silkie roosters. Let's do a quick side-by-side comparison. This is the fowl I suspect is a rooster, and this is his sister. While the tail feathers are somewhat ambiguous, the head structure, especially those distinct markings, align more closely with rooster characteristics. Now, compare that to her head – a different, less pronounced apparatus. Another side-by-side for clarity. I don't want to jump to conclusions prematurely, so our suspected rooster will remain with the flock for the time being. We aren't planning any hatching until spring anyway, so immediate inbreeding isn't a pressing concern. Interestingly, I haven't heard him crow yet, which at this age, he arguably should be doing. So, the observation continues. And yes, we still need names for these guys, but this potential gender reveal has thrown a slight wrench in my original naming schemes. "Alright, guys, let's go greet the birds!" "Good morning, birds! How's everybody doing this morning?" Wow, it's remarkably warm inside the hoop coop this morning. I finally battened down the hatches for winter, sealing off all the sides and even closing the back door. While it's about 35°F outside this morning, I'd wager it's closer to 60°F inside. You can really feel the trapped warmth; it's quite something. I actually need to make a store run today, so perhaps I'll pick up a new thermometer to install in here. That way, we can have real-time comparisons of the temperature difference between inside and outside the hoop coop throughout the winter. Generally speaking, I find it's about 20°F warmer inside, but that can fluctuate significantly depending on the amount of sunshine we've received and the overall coldness of the preceding week or so, as those factors heavily influence the heating of this space. "Release the quacken!" "Hang on, you guys, let me get your water going." Yes, the automated watering system continues to be a fantastic time-saver during my morning chores. Typically, I just turn it on, let the water give everything a quick rinse, and then I can essentially set it and forget it. It appears one of the ducks just decided to lay an egg, probably no more than 30 seconds ago. They certainly pick the strangest and sometimes grossest places to deposit their precious cargo. One thing I know I'll have to address is the inevitable accumulation of mud and sludge in this area. I think I'll need to devise some creative solutions to manage the muck. So, if anyone has any ingenious ideas, please share them! "Alright, let's let the feeding frenzy commence!" Now, I don't know if you caught that little maneuver, but that's how our blind duck, Bean, navigates her world. Bean, the brown duck currently positioned right in the middle of the food trough, hatched here on the farm about three, maybe almost four years ago, back in 2021. She was initially raised alongside a goose named Frank (who, while not present with these geese, is still on the farm). They were inseparable, raised together after the goose mother proved to be a less-than-stellar caregiver for her goslings. I decided to pair Frank with Bean, and they became the best of friends. The following year, I began to notice Bean bumping into things with increasing frequency, and it turned out she was indeed blind. Yet, miraculously, through a combination of touch, sound, and smell, she manages to navigate remarkably well. She has her own system for locating food and water and interacting with the rest of the flock. While the other birds might occasionally express mild annoyance at her accidental collisions, they generally give her a considerable amount of leeway. She's able to do things like this – oh, she just found some more food. Eventually, she'll make her way over to the water and find either a puddle or one of the pools for a drink. Ducks, as you know, always appreciate a drink after eating. Yes, you can see it – she hears a duck in the pool, knows she's relatively close, bumps into the fence a little, and there she goes. She's able to drink, wash herself, and perform all the necessary duck maintenance, even if she occasionally elicits a bit of avian exasperation with her clumsy explorations. Whether in this winter setup or the summer pasture, she manages surprisingly well. So, while farm life and nature can sometimes appear harsh, Bean's story is a heartwarming testament to resilience and adaptation, a truly inspirational real-life farm tale. Several folks have inquired in the comments, and yes, I do plan on building out the goose nest soon. I'm just not in a particular rush at the moment, as we still have ample time before the geese begin laying eggs, and the ducks are currently laying very few. I prefer to stagger the winter projects. Another winter endeavor on my list is to construct roll-away nesting boxes that actually function effectively in my chicken coop. This design will significantly improve egg cleanliness. For those unfamiliar, a roll-away nesting box typically features a sloped floor where the laid egg gently rolls to a protected collection area at the back, inaccessible to the birds. This prevents the eggs from being soiled with droppings. When I initially built this coop, I had intended to use similar nesting boxes, but they proved completely incompatible with the coop's slope and mobile nature. So, one of my winter challenges is to design predator-proof roll-away nesting boxes for a mobile chicken coop – a rather tall order indeed. Now, I don't know if you noticed, but I think if we observe this chicken, we might eventually witness her laying an egg in that nesting box right there. I think I startled her, but if we remain patient, she'll likely return, and hopefully, you'll get to see the process. Watching a chicken, duck, or goose lay an egg is both fascinating and somewhat… visceral, but definitely more fascinating than gross. I mentioned sealing off this back corner, and I wanted to show you the modification I made, as I believe it's a significant improvement. This back wall has consistently been the most problematic part of this hoop coop greenhouse. I purchased the model with this large roll-up door for two primary reasons: firstly, to allow for wide-open ventilation during the summer months to prevent overheating whatever I was growing inside, and secondly, to enable me to drive my tractor in during the spring to clear out the entire area before planting summer crops. Additionally, in the fall, I need to be able to maneuver the chicken coop in here with the ATV. Hence the need for such a large door. However, the persistent issue was wind catching it and sometimes tearing it open, necessitating difficult mid-winter repairs. So, the other day, I constructed a sort of false bottom to it. I now attach the polyfiber for the back door to this new structure, and hopefully, the added weight will keep it securely in place. Furthermore, this design allows for easy disassembly in the spring when I need to open it up again. I simply remove these screws here and these screws here, along with a few more on the other side that secure it, and then I can drive right back in with the tractor to clear things out. Come summer, it will remain open, and then I'll re-close it in this manner when winter returns. To further prevent flapping in the breeze, I've also piled up dirt along the bottom, using soil from this adjacent area to seal off the lower gap. And by the way, that's the faceplate that keeps this pinned in place with screws. "You found a nice place to nap, huh, Abby dog? Do you want to try to help? Oh, you're such good dogs!" So, hopefully, this setup will prove more resilient this year than it did last year. And as a bonus, my little earthworks with the tractor have created a slightly deeper area that will hopefully retain more of the overflow water from our pond before it runs down to the creek beyond those trees. It's rather pleasant to be back out here in the winter yard with the ducks and geese. While I keep my cattle out grazing for as long as possible, I prefer to bring the waterfowl into the coop as soon as the weather turns consistently cold. They have access to this entire yard, so it's not as if they're cramped. The winter bird yard itself is probably around two acres, maybe a little less, but close to it. Especially with the current low number of birds, they have ample space and there's no overcrowding. "You know where you are? You're in the jungle, Abby! And you're going to get petted on the face!" That rooster has been a new addition to our farm for a week or two and has been in need of a name. During our monthly Farm Meeting live stream, which occurs every first Wednesday of the month, we collectively decided that his name would be… Beetlejuice! So, everyone, say hello to Beetlejuice! Just… try not to say his name three times. Would you look at that? Freshly laid, and look how clean it is too! Wow, I don't even have to wash this egg. Despite my best efforts and the carefully designed nesting boxes, she chose the one whose nesting basket is actually broken and out of commission to lay her egg. I actually wonder if we captured any of this on camera. Let's check the footage. Well, that's a definite bummer. I was really hoping to have caught the egg-laying in action, but it doesn't look like we had a good angle. You can see and hear it drop, but the actual moment is obscured. I'll make a more concerted effort to position cameras regularly and hopefully capture some egg-laying footage for you soon. I genuinely feel like I've let you down on that one. "I know, I know you guys are annoyed that I did the chickens and ducks and geese before I did you this morning! I know you're annoyed! Come with me! Come on! Here, have some of this good alfalfa hay, huh? Enjoy, guys!" A little behind-the-scenes tidbit for you all: typically, I perform the goat chores at the exact same time as the bird chores. While the water is pouring automatically, that gives me just enough time to tend to the goats. However, on days when I'm filming, I prefer to focus on each task individually to get good footage for you. So, in the goats' case today, that meant they had to wait for me to finish both the "buck hunt" and the bird chores before their feeding. Of course, they do have plenty of forage scattered throughout their yard; for example, all this greenery that I regularly cut for them. In fact, I feel like I've been spending a considerable amount of time in the woods lately, cutting greens. I even cut a bunch of greenery for our local school's Parent-Teacher Association, as they do an annual wreath fundraiser to support school programs. They needed a lot of greenery, and I dropped off a whole load for them. They had a significant amount of waste cuttings and stuff they weren't going to use, so I loaded it all onto my tractor and brought it back to the farm. I now feel like I've discovered the endless goat food glitch! "Here we go, boys! We're going to bring some more treats to the boys! Hey boys! I got more stuff for you! I know you're excited! More stuff! More stuff! Here you go, dig in! You like that, Hannus? Lauren's happy with it too, but Telemachus is back at the alfalfa." One of the interesting things I've observed as I continue to learn about goats is that they don't just enjoy the needles; they also really relish stripping down the bark. The sound of them eating is surprisingly satisfying to hear. The one thing I need to figure out is what to do with all these leftover goat sticks. Eventually, I have branches like this that are pretty much completely stripped bare. I'm starting to consider maybe drying them and using them as kindling for the fireplace next year. Who knows? I've got to admit, this is a little bit disconcerting. I do not know where my cattle are right now. I'm still in that transitional period where I'm letting them completely free-range around here. Yeah, I don't see them anywhere. I don't know, we'll go look for them in a second. I'm a little worried, but not really worried. Here you can see our "stick season" watering setup. Rather than using the float valve I typically employ all summer, I've switched to the freeze miser here, which was likely running until about 15-20 minutes ago. It releases water when the temperature drops below 35°F and shuts off when it reaches 35°F or above. This water trough ran all night. You can see I even set up a little overflow trough. It does get a bit muddy around here; I won't lie, that's the one downside to all this. If you don't have a good draining spot, it can get rather messy. I think one of my plans for next year is to identify a specific spot in this pasture to set up the winter (or stick season) water and just leave it there. That would be their primary water source for most of the cold months until I bring them down to the barn for the full winter. Again, it's all about incremental improvements. But other than the slightly muddy pasture, this system is working great and will likely give me an extra month of grazing with the cattle. Speaking of which, let's go find our wayward animals and do a quick headcount to ensure everyone is accounted for. I think they heard Abby and me approaching, and I can see them starting to congregate over there. The reason I'm doing this now is I want them to graze down pretty much everything that hasn't been grazed so far this summer. In fact, they're getting remarkably close to having everything trimmed down. I mean, there are still some munchable areas here and there, but a lot of this, as you can see, has been thoroughly grazed. You can even see the blades of grass with cow teeth marks on them, and I can even hear some cranky cattle in the background. My rationale for this intensive grazing is that I'll be adding some extra seed to this pasture later this fall, probably as soon as I move the cattle down to the lower barn. I'll be introducing a couple of different new grass species, as well as things like clover, to help provide the cattle with a more diverse and nutritious diet from the pasture. I'll be broadcast seeding; no seed drill or tilling involved. The goal is to give those new grasses a better chance of establishing themselves, creating a really good mixture of forage for the cattle. And here we have Bonnie McMurray! Would you look at her? I think she's getting wider. I suspect Bonnie McMurray might be pregnant. She's a heifer, so she hasn't had calves yet. She was one of the first to go into heat this year after I introduced the bull, so there's a good chance she might have the first calf of the year, come… I guess it would be April. So, you have Bonnie, who was Ariel's first daughter on the farm, then you have Belle, who was Ariel's second daughter. So, Bonnie and Belle are half-sisters; Belle's father is Macho Man, so she'll be part of a separate breeding herd that I eventually establish here on the farm. "Alright, but let's do the headcount." So, we've got Bonnie, we've got Belle, we've got Ariel, we've got our boss cow Audrey, we've got Annabelle and her daughter Betty Rubble. Betty has grown into a very nice calf as well; she's going to be a good heifer one day. She is half-sisters with Belle but with different mothers. And yeah, as you guys can see here, this is why the cattle have migrated over to this spot – there's plenty more grass for them to eat. And here we have Belinda Carlisle, who was the first calf ever born on our farm, or at least since we've had the farm.