LOVELY October!

We are experiencing a wonderful warm October this year! It has been in the high 70’s during the days and down to a misty 45 at night. The air is scented with the smoke of wood fires and burning pine needle piles. The light falls at a steeper angle and the shadows turn purple. It feels like fall.

My garden is still doing pretty well and my new bed is ready for the onions, which should be arriving at the nursery in a couple of weeks. I learned from my Farmer’s Market friend Robert that I was not watering them enough, so I am excited to try my hand again. I have some greenhouse lettuces coming on, along with a few that I planted out in the “chicken free” zone. My cabbages are doing great surrounded by their little fence covered with snap peas. My broccoli have been devastated by chicken blight ~ you know, it is that thing that happens to them when you take their cages off to weed the bed and then TURN YOUR BACK for a ½ hour. On the other hand, that hen must be REALLY healthy, because broccoli leaves are filled with lovely vitamins and minerals.

The apples are getting bigger and I can’t wait to sample the Arkansas Blacks. This is the first year for this new little tree to bear and there are only four or five fruits. I fantasize about planting a whole orchard of fruit trees up on the hill. It would be a challenge to keep the critters out of them, but how pretty it could be!

All is well at FiddleSong Farm!

Meet a real Cowboy Artist....

 Every summer Ron Scofield and his wife Marie put on weekend barbeques showcasing old-time cowcamp entertainment under the stars at the Red Mule Ranch in Fiddletown, California. Guests enjoy a chuck wagon tri-tip dinner and cowboy music, poetry, and story telling in an 1880's setting.
I was thrilled to meet Cowboy Artist Ron Scofield at the Fiddler's Jam. He had set up his artwork for sale in the Cowboy Church in Fiddletown.  The Cowboy Church is an old saloon, the perfect venue for this interesting gentleman and his wonderful depictions of life in the Old American West. I almost drooled over his pen and ink drawings of mule trains, and cattle drives, and his oils were painterly and lovely. Most of all, I enjoyed comparing the art experience with him. Ron and I seemed to strike a chord when we were chatting about the excitement we felt when a painting or drawing began to take on a life of it's own, and how it feels like God steps in and finishes. I met a kindred spirit, and I am looking forward to seeing him again soon. Perhaps at a Cowboy Campfire at the Red Mule Ranch!
There are prints offered for sale on his website: scofieldscowboycampfire.com

"Art sweeps away from the soul the dust of everyday life"...Pablo Picasso

Fiddletown Fiddlers' Jam

Saturday was the 60th Anniversary of the Fiddlers' Jam.  Rick and I moseyed down the hill to have a peek and a listen. It has been a few years since we have last gone, and I won't miss another one!  It was a fun opportunity to visit with neighbors, explore this little Gold Rush town, and listen to some genuine hill country music.

 I couldn't help but think "Jenna should be here!!"

Extended Roots is an all gal group that demonstrates their passion for the music of America's roots. 

Their beautiful music made my angels sing!!

Here is a sample of the nice croud that gathered...

Sage's Body Care offers an excellent assortment of yummy soaps and lotions!  Wonderful products, nice people :)

Now, I freely admit that I was already a fan of fiddle songs :) I love hearing the old folk songs, hoe downs and waltzes. They just feel like my kind of music. They make my heart swell and tears come to my eyes. As I wandered down the middle of Fiddltown Road, I had a strong sense of belonging that I have not felt before. We have lived in this small community for nine years, and this is the first time it truly felt like home.

....next year there will be a FiddleSong Farm booth :) See you there!?

NO coyotes, but BIG thunderstorms....

I haven't seen a coyote since my last post, so I am starting to relax my vigil. Was it scary me running up the hill yelling with my pack and my brave goat Bella? Or was it the unmistakable "marking of the territory" by Jack?  Or did it just get smart and decide to leave the crazy lady's chickens alone? Unknown.  I love a mystery.

Hen proof lettuce bed :)

Last weekend was a good one for gardening. I watered like mad on Sunday, because everything was thirsty.  Then Sunday evening we had a noisy thunderstorm and it rained nearly all night.  It was GREAT! I pruned and chopped weeds and planted some cabbages and peas. I cleaned out my greenhouse and reorganized, then I filled two flats with herb cuttings. I spent five minutes lamenting the failure of my pumpkin plants this cold, wet spring, but vowed to plant EXTRA next year. We are still enjoying our excellent green beans from the first row, and the second row is already trying to bloom!  I have decided to try and save some bean seeds for next spring, I'll let you know how that goes. The tomatoes are EXCELLENT this year.  My favorites are German Queen and Pink Brandywine.  The German Queen is a solid beef steak type with hardly any seeds.

Both have rich, old fashioned flavor.

I am considering expanding my veggie beds.  You  know what that means?  I would be taking out several established beds of ornamentals.  I like to transplant, and usually have good success if I wait until the fall. I will definately need to fence it with hen proof fencing :) 

I have to figure out a better choice for my garden paths, though.  The gravel is pretty but it requires too much maintenance!  Thinking about a new scarecrow, it is almost that time....

...FiddleSong Farm is anticipating autumn....

The hens held hostage....day 5...

In order to thwart the hunting efforts of that sneaky coyote, I have been keeping the chickens penned up every day. I was out pretty early watering this morning and by 9 I was feeling hungry for breakfast.  I put down my hose and went inside, and popped an English muffin into the toaster. I heard goats snorting in alarm. I turned and saw that coyote creeping down the hill toward Little Crow, our bantam hen.

Now Little Crow and I have an understanding.  I leave her alone, and she will continue to live at FiddleSong Farm.  She heartily and VOCALLY disapproves of egg stealing, and she gets to pick where she roosts. She can fly like a quail, so she has the run of the farm, and she loves heirloom tomatoes, thank you so much.  There is no controlling Little Crow. But I LOVE that hen.

When I saw that coyote after her, the hair stood up on the back of my neck!  I ran out the front door and yelling for the dogs, ran full speed down the path and burst through the gate. Little Crow ran unharmed into the barn, right betwen the legs of highly alarmed goats. "GET THAT COYOTE!!!!" I yelled to the dogs. We all ran up the hill. "GET HIM, GET HIM, GET HIM!!!" Jack was slow, because he didn't want to leave me, but Sheila saw that varmint and streaked up the hill barking!  Tilly got into it too, although she looked like she was barking at Sheila. The coyote shot under the fence and took off, while Jack ran along and peed on all the fence posts. So helpful :) As I finally arrived at the crest of the hill, I was surrounded by three excited barking Aussies and.....a goat.  Bella, my favorite doe of the day, had left the security of the herd and followed me up that hill as fast as she could.  There she was, standing calmly at my side amid a pack of three jumping, snarling, barking dogs, looking across the road trying to catch a glimpse of the departing coyote.

I have given her an extra helping of grain and a well deserved new title....

...Bella the Brave

goat sustainability....

Tonight, I am dreaming of fresh sweet milk, creamy goat cheese and warm snugly newborn kids.  And I am dreading telling Rick that today I placed an ad for "Goats for sale" in the Buy N' Sell. I have been thinking that I need to slim my herd down, to make room in the barns, and to shrink our feed bill.  With hay being $15 and more all summer, it is a necessity. So today, I made a list of who was staying and who was going. :(

When we decided to invest in this herd in the beginning, the whole idea was to make the goats help support themselves and the farm.  In lots of ways, they are already doing that, but now we want to take it to the next level.  Sustainability is about balance and efficiency. It's about making it work. The goats produce rich, creamy milk. The goatberries feed the garden which feeds us and also the chickens. The chickens give us fresh eggs and (maybe someday) meat for the table. To have the milk, you must breed the does.  When the kids come along, they are sold to new homes.  RIGHT!?

OK, I think I have convinced myself. Now if I could just keep myself from adopting any more cats....

Coyotes BEWARE!

This morning just as I was slipping on my sandals, and getting ready to head out on my way to work, I heard a funny noise, turned and saw Rick moving faster than I have ever seen him move. He rushed out the front door yelling for Jack, our big Aussie. I KNEW there was something wrong and I started after him, my brain working in such high gear that everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.

"WHAT IS IT?"  I yelled. 

"Coyote!" he said as he hustled right down the path to the barn. The hair on the back of my neck raised, and I shifted into a higher gear as I chased him down the path! As I burst through the gate leading to the "Back 4", Rick had stopped and was looking up the hill.  I was counting goat heads. "Bella, Hummingbird, Whimsy, Zip, Honey......" my heart was pounding as I expected the worst.

Rick said, "Darn thing got one of your chickens."  I looked up the hill just in time to see a fuzzy pair of ears disappearing over the rise.

"You are sure that was a coyote?" I asked.

"Yup," he said, "I saw it happen."  He turned and looked back at me with a sad look.  He knew how much I treasured my flock. He said "What were you going to do with that?"

I was very surprised to see my wicked sharp pitch fork in my hand. I must have grabbed it as I ran down the path. There I was, wearing my nice work clothes and sandals, with my hair and makeup all done, holding a pitch fork.  I was a little embarrassed.

"Well", I said sheepishly, "I guess I was going to kill the heck out of something."

All of us who have the care of a herd or flock know that feeling of protective instinct.  It is a powerful, primitive feeling, and people have been protecting their livestock for hundreds of years. (Yes, even with pitchforks :) On my drive to work , I thought about my forebears, and how hard they worked to carve their living from the land. My own Granny had a wonderful garden and hens on four acres until she was well into her nineties, and only gave them up after a nasty fall that she never quite recovered from. She had climbed up a ladder to turn on the irrigation water from a standpipe.  She only fell because that rickety old ladder broke. Granny gave me my first mama hen and chicks when I was just 13, and loved to tell me stories from her farm and how the fox or raccoon had gotten a hen or favorite rooster. She lived to be 97. She would have LOVED that I am living such a similar lifestyle.  It was largely her experiences that created in me the drive to live the farm life. Granny would have been very proud of my green beans.

For now, I am considering buying a 22.  Then, look out coyotes, you just might wind up with a bullet in your butt!

...armed and DANGEROUS!!!