Farming in the shade

Despite all the changes and excitement that we've experienced this year, we have a lot to be thankful for: our faith, this country, the ability to farm and make a living from the land. Thank you for following along on this journey. May you have a wonderful Thanksgiving Day.

We never quite know when we'll have to bring the sheep in for the winter. It's different every year. Right now we are having a cold snap that is lasting for several days, with snow on the ground. The animals are equipped for colder days because of their wool or their thick winter hair coats. They know to huddle close and turn their backs to the wind. They also know to dig through the snow to get to their food. And we can supplement with hay if needed. Our watering system, however, is based on hoses laying on top of the ground. An occasional dip below freezing does not affect things much. But prolonged cold means frozen hoses and no water. The weather reports indicate that highs will not be above freezing until Friday. That's too long. Looks like the Bringing-In will have to be today.

Earlier this year we planted radishes and oats together as a cover crop. We thought we might be able to use some of these plantings as fall pasture. And we've done just that. Here is what the plantings look like after the cows have been through and eaten all the oats. The sheep are in this field now, and we are hoping that sheep like radishes better than the cows did. Apparently they do. The foreground in this photo shows the "after" shot. And this is "after", up close. While I was out taking photos, I noticed two sheep that had gone THROUGH the temporary electric fence. Can you see the fence laying down behind them? I can't say that the grass was greener on this side. Must be they needed a little "alone" time, as I noticed one of the escapees was the ram. Mmm-hmmm. I'm on to you.

About 4-1/2 months before we want lambs to start arriving, we put the rams in with the ewes for breeding. We get out the halters and wrestle them on the rams. They are used to us ignoring them all summer, except for daily feedings. So all this attention makes them believe that we are going to do something very bad to them. So the "march" is more like a match. A match of wills. A wrestling match. They don't know that at the other end of this march, good things are waiting for them. Sometimes we are like sheep. We wrestle with God, or our circumstances, fighting all the way. I just said to a friend yesterday, "We have had enough excitement this year. I want boring." But what I don't know is what lies ahead. Perhaps it will be good. And all this wrestling will have been wasted energy.

I love Chicago. I love to visit. (I love to leave again, and come home. But that's another story.) When the Holland Convention and Visitors Bureau started talking about advertising Holland as a Christmas holiday destination to the people of Chicago, someone somewhere along the line brought up The Farmer's name. I can imagine the discussion. "How about that crazy farmer guy out at the Kerstmarkt who makes socks on that old crank machine? That's weird enough to get their attention." Fast forward a few weeks and we found ourselves in the fortress-like studios of WGN-TV, just north of Chicago. Fortunately enough, the Holland CVB was wise enough to send along a "handler" for us country bumpkins. Kirsten (pictured above) made appointments and reservations, briefed us on what we could expect, and did everything in her power to make sure we were where we needed to be at the right time. So appreciated! Once we were ushered into the correct stud

How quickly our day's plans changed. And yet, it could have been so much worse. The Farmer went out to do chores this morning, and immediately noticed the plume of black smoke from the vicinity of the compost facility. He ran. What he found was the beginning of this. He quickly surmised that a skid steer (a.k.a. bobcat) on fire with fuel in it was more than he could handle on his own. He ran back up to the house, while dialing 911. He called to me that the skid steer was on fire, and he was going to "get the truck". He is a part-time, on-call firefighter, and the station is a mile from our farm. Good odds. Yet look at how close that skid steer was to the edge of the barn. In the meantime, I alerted my dad about the fire by phone. He was able to move the tractor out of the barn, just in case the fire spread. I alerted my in-laws by banging on their door and yelling FIRE! I grabbed one of the house fire extinguishers, and asked them to bring more. The fire exti