Life – Page 3 – Forest Hill Farm

Beekeepers are wonderful, but they lie

glendaMay 12, 2015August 25, 2015Leave a comment

Beekeepers are wonderful, but they lie

I've met a few beekeepers over the past few years, wonderful folks, but they're liars. The beekeeping class instructor said that eventually you won't notice getting stung. He said it's not a big deal. Every beekeeper I've met since has said the same thing, "I don't even notice when I get stung."

To this I say, "Liar!"

One of the first questions people ask is, "How often do you get stung?" Followed by the second question, "Does it hurt?"

Here's the truth; you won't get stung often but when you do it hurts. I know the procedure; when you get stung use the hive tool to scrape the stinger away, otherwise the sack keeps pumping venom. The same goes with trying to squeeze out the stinger. It won't work, you have to scrape it away.

It will continue to hurt for a couple of days, your joints around the area will ache. As the swelling goes down your skin will start to itch. As for me, patience isn't a virtue. I've been stung plenty of times and the only home remedy that's worked is time.

I love bees enough to endure the occasional sting. The reward is greater than the pain.

Growing Mushrooms 1

glendaMarch 24, 2015August 25, 20151 Comment

On an old oak stump in our front yard grew a Hen of the Woods mushroom. Keith would watch it grow and mature until it was the ready to pick. It was just about perfect.

We were sitting on the front porch when a car pulled up. The dogs were sleeping in the autumn sun, they didn't notice. The driver ran from the car, cut the mushroom, and drove off.

Apparently someone else was watching the mushroom, too. Keith walked around the stump in disbelief, “Who steals a mushroom?”

“Probably the same type of person who tries stuffing a goat into the hatchback of their car.” A few weeks earlier a nicely dressed couple tried driving off with our goat, Midnight and a few of the laying hens.

Poor Keith, I empathized with him. He'd been waiting to enjoying this mushroom for a long time.

Our neighbor, Mike watched the same car pull up to his ditch and cut weed stalks early each summer. One year he flagged them down to ask what they were cutting. What they thought were wild rhubarb stalks in reality was Burdock. Mike just smiled, shook his head and waved them on. He loved re-telling that story.

Here in Iowa folks park along the roadside searching for wild asparagus or morels. The asparagus seekers carry sharp knives and plastic bags. They walk along the ditches and fence rows searching the grass around utility poles.

For some reason the commercial morel hunters irritate me, they don't ask for permission, they're dropped off in an area to begin scavenging the timber and underbrush for saleable product. They wear camouflage and carry handheld GPS devices. Morel's bring a hefty price.

Growing mushrooms is one of our latest projects. We're growing Oyster mushrooms for fun. Keith loves mushrooms. One year I bought him a shiitake growing kit which was fine, but about the difference between owning a plastic model of a Corvette or the real thing.

It was time for an up-grade, so this year we're growing two varieties of organic Oyster mushrooms; Grey Dove and PoHu.

Keith cut logs from dormant Aspen trees. Each log is about 3 feet long, 6 – 8 inches in diameter. There are about one hundred logs for this year's mushroom project. He used a special bit to drill the holes. Cookie inoculated the logs with sawdust spawn and then capped each with wax. The logs are stacked in the timber, when it's dry this summer we'll use a water tank to soak the logs. The first mushrooms should start growing within a few months. This first year's yield will be sparse, but should increase each season for many years.

Schroeder Thomas splint

glendaMarch 14, 2015May 6, 2020Leave a comment

Schroeder Thomas splint

*This post is for information purposes only and does not replace the need for a qualified veterinarian*

Our veterinarian anesthetized the calf and he set the leg. We assisted by making the frame and wrapping the leg under his supervision.

This time of year we get two or three emails each week asking about the Schroeder Thomas Splint (click here for the original post).

Here are the instructions and pictures:

Our calf had a left hind leg break. These pictures are of a Schroeder-Thomas splint for a hind leg. Regardless whether front or hind leg the objective is to fix the leg in place and apply downward pressure, with the leg fully extended to set the bone in place. (The red broom handle represents the leg) Click on the pictures to view more clearly.

frame of Schroeder-Thomas splint, broom handle represents leg

1. Measure the hip/thigh of the calf for back leg or shoulder/upper arm for front leg. We used string to measure the thigh and made a paper template of the leg. Based on those measurements Keith Used steel rod to weld this frame.

The frame goes around the outside hip and under the inside groin area

2. Weld a plate for a hoof rest at the bottom of the splint. The plate will secure the leg in place with downward pressure.

fix the leg to the frame alternating tape from left to right to keep the leg in place

3. Fix the leg to the sides of the frame; tape alternately left side, right side, repeat as you tape the length of the leg to the frame. DO NOT WRAP THE ENTIRE LEG TO ONE SIDE: ALTERNATE THE WRAP FOR LATERAL STABILITY. (We used 3m Vet Wrap)

Tape the hoof to the bottom plate of the frame to apply downward pressure

4. Wrap around the hoof and fix the leg to the bottom of the frame; apply downward pressure and fully extend the leg. A wooden splint will help hold the leg in a place to the bottom of the frame. On our first attempt we didn't have the hoof held tightly to the bottom of the frame.

5. Cushion any pressure points to prevent open sores. Apply topical fly repellant.

6. We covered all the vet wrap with duct tape for additional stability. Don't use duct tape directly on the hair coat without protective covering .

7. It will take a few days for the calf to learn to get up and down while wearing the splint. He'll get the hang of it but it will be awkward.

8. If you need help send an email, we're happy to answer questions.

Taking careful measurements — Taking careful measurement

Tapping Walnut Trees

glendaMarch 13, 2015March 26, 2016Leave a comment

Tapping walnut trees!

The local NPR station had a program about tapping trees. Michael Farrell, author of The Sugarmaker's Companion talked about collecting sap from different types of trees. Keith liked the idea of tapping walnut trees and birch trees to make syrup. The Black Walnut trees are abundant in our timber. After reading the book we became interested in the benefits of sap water as a healthful drink, so we're tapping walnut trees.

Keith and our local forester, Jeff marked trees for tapping. Not wanting to ruin marketable timber, or veneer, the two of them selected twenty-six crooked or damaged trees for this first season's experiment.

The trees cover a larger area so tubing wasn't an option. Instead, collection bags hang from the taps. Walnut's have about the same brix (sap sugar content) as maple trees. The volumes of sap is less, though. Walnut sap is nutrient rich, slightly sweet, with a nutty flavor. It's power packed.

In other cultures tree sap is a valued health drink. Fresh sap is good for five days, after that it needs pasteurization and filtering. It will last indefinitely when it's frozen. To get the benefits throughout the year I'm freezing it in ice-cube trays and glass jars for later use.

Depending on how much sap we collect there might be enough to make walnut syrup, but with a sap to syrup ratio of 40:1, we'll see.

The sap runs for only about five-weeks each spring. Tapping walnut trees is just like tapping maple trees, walnut trees leaf out later than maples so the season might extend longer. When the walnut sap finishes flowing the birch trees are ready to tap. Birch flow starts later in the spring and runs until the trees leaf out.

Sugaring is a great way to enjoy the outdoors and spend time together.

On the Road

glendaDecember 16, 2014August 25, 2015Leave a comment

IMG_20140904_143708987 Every now and again I have a bad day on the road. A couple of months ago my beautiful drive in the country turned ugly. I had three flat tires; one blow out, one flat, and a nail sticking out of the sidewall of the third tire. With the tires fixed I was back on the road. A few miles later the alternator failed. It wasn't a great day.

Last Saturday we hit a deer. Not a great day, either.

Yesterday it was foggy with rain falling steadily. As I drove down the highway I saw a sign that read, “Next 2 miles...possible cattle on road”

My heart went out to the farmer. His cattle got out, It was very foggy and there's heavy traffic along this stretch of highway.

The next time I feel sorry for myself because I have a flat tire or a breakdown I'll remember that I've never had a day this bad. Even my worst day is better than a herd of cattle who've gone missing in the fog and worrying about the safety of both drivers and livestock on the road.

Turkey Decorating

glendaNovember 19, 2014November 19, 2014Leave a comment

One of the highlights of Thanksgiving is the newspaper's publishing children's turkey recipe's and their drawings of Thanksgiving scenes. They're colorful, creative and so much fun to read.

"Research shows that 90 percent of five-year olds are creative, but only 2 percent of adults are." -Lee Lilber

One year our friend's son, (I'll call him Chip, even though it's not his real name) entered his school's turkey decorating contest. He came home excited to share the rules with his parents and tell them about the turkey he'd designed. After a trip to the craft store he assembled his turkey. It was terrific, it looked exactly as he planned. When our friends tucked their son into bed that night he told them how much he wanted to win the contest.

While the boy slept his parents looked at his turkey. It looked like a second grader had made it, which is exactly how it should have looked given the boy's age. They couldn't see it for what it was. They decided to improve it. Changing the design, they added more feathers, re-glued the eyes, and fixed the sagging head. Adding a guitar and sideburns it became a rock star turkey. They went to bed assuring themselves that their turkey was going to win, but it wasn't their turkey. It wasn't their contest to win.

In the morning when Chip saw the re-designed bird he burst out, "That's not my turkey!" His parents assured him that this turkey was the winner. He headed to school with the turkey stuffed in his bag.

After school he ran through the door grinning, "The teacher loved my turkey!" His mom congratulated him and called his dad. Chip, overhearing her on the phone, interrupted her, "Mom, your turkey didn't win. I showed the teacher your turkey and told her that I wasn't entering it in the contest. She gave me time to remake my turkey from the picture I'd drawn. Here, she wrote you a note." He handed his mom an envelope.

The teacher's note read:

Dear Mr. and Mrs. _________,

I am proud of your son's effort and outstanding attitude on the turkey decorating contest. He followed the instructions and created a wonderful turkey.

I appreciate your enthusiasm however, your entry was ineligible.

You have both completed the second grade and are not currently enrolled at this school. In addition, you sent a demoralizing message to your son that somehow his creativity and artistic abilities are inferior to yours.

Sincerely,

Chip's teacher

As an eighteen year old our neighbor, Don built his own barn. He sent away for a set of plans, cut the trees, made them into board lumber, and constructed the barn. Seventy years later it's still in great shape. Can you imagine kids doing their own work? They'd either celebrate their accomplishments or learn the consequences. And here's an even bigger stretch ...What if dad's allowed their sons in Cub Scout's to build their own Pinewood Derby cars?

The Off-Season

glendaOctober 8, 2014August 25, 2015Leave a comment

The off-season.

As a gardener there comes a day when even the heaviest frost blanket can't offer protection. You resign, relinquishing the garden until spring. Maybe it's because of this resignation, probably not, but nothing could satisfy the melancholy feeling of the garden shutting down like a fresh picked tomato. Fresh tomatoes are gone until next year, this is the off-season.

There's a group of small, like-minded farmers who network together. Barter and trade are frequent among us. Last year we traded a young Gloucestershire Old Spot boar for hen and tom heritage turkey's. This spring the hens were late to set their eggs, some never cycled into egg laying. Talking with a turkey raiser he determined last winter too severe. Turkey hens, regardless of their care, just weren't up to the task of laying, at least not fertile, viable eggs, anyway. That is until this week.

In front of the machine shed door a Narragansett hen sat sunning herself. She puffed her feathers, called in a high-pitched whistle and seven small turkey poults scooted underneath her. Doesn't she know this is the off-season?

Later in the day I collected pumpkins for the sows and boar. Among the vines and fruit another Narragansett hen is sitting on a clutch of eggs. One of the Muscovy hens hatched eggs last week. Five ducklings follow here through the pasture every afternoon. We haven't found where she's hiding her brood, hopefully a weasel or owl won't find them either.

The peach trees, all but one, have been dormant all summer. Scratching the surface bark there’s life under the cambium layer so they weren't cut down. Maybe next spring they'll surprise us with buds, it's doubtful, but I remain optimistic. In October of 2012, following one of the worst droughts in our area, the lilac bushes started to blossom for a second time in one season. The October flower clusters were sparse, but the following spring they were full of flowers again as if the off-season blossoming hadn't interrupted the cycle.

The oak tree along the lane is dropping bushels of acorn that go uncollected. The oak in the pasture is dropping a heavy crop for the pigs to feast on. They've gleaned the fallen nuts leaving the ground underneath bare. One pig in particular stands sentry, he won't let the sheep near the tree. He doesn't realize the sheep want sweet clover not bitter acorns. Between the pumpkins, clovers, apples, and nuts the pigs diet is diverse. Their commercial feed goes untouched when there's so much they can harvest themselves. This is one of the benefits of pastured hogs; a healthy diet.

Goodbye Queen

glendaJuly 29, 2014August 25, 2015Leave a comment

It's quiet when I work with the bees, I work alone. Every move is choreographed ahead of time. The bee suit is too hot, the veil makes my head sweat, and I will NEVER wear gloves again. So, I wear shorts, a t-shirt, and worn out tennis shoes. I'm not brave, actually I'm afraid of getting stung, but with everything you enjoy there are consequences. Getting stung is one of them.

The best weapon is a calm attitude and a heavy plume from the smoker. One of my hives isn't as strong as the others. I had to re-queen it. Earlier in the spring I was installing a second package of bees and I made a mistake. I lost the queen. Well, she wasn't really lost, she flew away. Worried about getting stung, I wore a full bee suit complete with thick gloves. After shaking the bees into the hive body I got the queen cage ready. I carefully removed the plug end and stuffed a mini marshmallow into the opening. I placed my gloved finger over the opening and moved two frames apart, hung the cage, and removed my finger. Looking down I noticed the marshmallow stuck to the glove, "Damn!" I tried to push it back into the cage, but before I could get it back into the opening the queen moved to the end and lifted herself into the air, "Damn, damn, damn!" I watched, dumbfounded, as she flew higher and higher until she disappeared from sight. I let out a desperate cry, "Oh no. Stupid marshmallow!" I thought, there goes my queen, $90.00 just flew away because I was afraid of getting stung. Fear, a glove, and a mini-marshmallow brought my hive's production to a halt.

We covered this in beekeeping class. The instruction was very clear; "If your queen escapes stay very still. She won't recognize her new surroundings. She won't know the bee yard, or hive. She doesn't know the workers, who've surrounded her cage on her trip north, they only met a day ago. Sometimes, if you're lucky, she'll fly in a circle taking a mental picture of the area. The queen will view you, the beekeeper, as a fixture of that area. In her mental picture you belong where she belongs. It's very important to remain still and leave everything as it was when she flew off."

I waited. No queen in sight. Two minutes - no queen. Three minutes, still no queen. Five minutes, no queen, just sweat running into my eyes and trickling down my back. Bee suits are incredibly hot. Keith was headed to town. He saw me standing still in this ridiculous outfit and called from the truck, "Hey, was there a nuclear accident at the plant?" he laughed and drove off. I'd have given him the finger, the gloved one with the marshmallow stuck to it, but I was standing perfectly still waiting for the queen's return. Lucky for him I couldn't move for a few more minutes. After ten minutes I gave up. I remembered one last piece of advice from class, "Never, EVER, let your queen escape." If she does its goodbye, queen!

Life’s No Picnic, it’s a Vacation

glendaJuly 1, 2014August 12, 2015Leave a comment

My life's no picnic, it's a vacation!

Keith got home from a soil building conference and pasture walk which featured a speaker who ranches in the Dakotas. Last winter they fed four hundred cattle on 300 acres of cover crops and stockpiled forage. They didn't feed a single bale of hay. They also run a lodge which is a hunting, fishing, and working cattle ranch for vacationers.

Keith and I looked through their vacation packages. We were getting excited about all the activities offered. This vacation would just be for the two of us, Cookie will be in Peru, Garrett in Germany. Part of the all-inclusive vacation package is allowing guests to choose their adventure and incorporate it into their stay. Keith loves to fish, I like working with horses and cattle. Keith could spend his day's fishing and I could ride, work cattle, and experience a REAL ranch. As we searched through the website we became even more enthusiastic; jeeps and ATV's are available for the guests to use as they explore the ranch.

We looked through the price guide for each vacation package and started setting a budget.

Then I looked out my window where three perfectly beautiful, well broke, horses were grazing. “You'd like to work with the horses and calves,” Keith said. I glanced out the window in the other direction and saw a few calves running together. A couple of days ago, when we moved the cattle, one calf ran in the wrong direction. After trying to get it headed in the right direction Keith decided to rope it so it would move along with the herd. Garrett was reaching for the calf at the same time Keith was casting the rope, he caught Garrett's arm along with the calf.

“The fishing would be great for you, you haven't gone fishing in a while. It would be relaxing,” I said. Again, from our window, I looked across the hills where the Turkey River winds through the valley. It has some great fishing spots. The Big Springs Trout Hatchery is just around the corner from our farm.

“We could go on daily hikes, or drive jeeps or ATV's. We could go exploring every afternoon and at night they have a great restaurant featuring grass-fed beef,” I let out an audible sigh, “although, no one produces better grass-fed beef than us.”

"That's true,” Keith nodded, “You know, we're surrounded by hiking trails. Pikes Peak State Park and the Effigy Mounds aren't far away. We could go boating on the Mississippi River anytime we choose, it's just a few miles away. There are tributary rivers to kayak or canoe or we could use the bicycle paths, ATV trails, or drive our old jeep on any adventure we'd like.”

Suddenly I had an epiphany, “Your right! People pay money, a lot of money, to go on a vacation to experience how we live our daily life. Our life is a vacation!” Some days it's no picnic, but, apparently it is a vacation!"

Thank You 1

glendaMay 26, 2014May 27, 20141 Comment

On November 2, 2011 we were driving home from Minnesota when a message came over the radio asking drivers along the route from Mabel, Minnesota to Calmar, Iowa to pull over, grab a flag and help bring a soldier home. Every school kid from kindergarten to high school lined the road. Veteran's group handed out flags, shop keepers and citizens lined the route, flags in hand as 20-year-old Army Private First Class Christopher Horns and his Gold Star Family drove to his final resting place in Calmar, Iowa.

Our friend Hal Koltz was eighteen years old, the ink barely dry on his high school diploma when he left for the Navy. Hal boarded the Fletcher Class Destroyer USS Cord where he served in the Pacific until August 1946. For the remainder of his life he struggled to forgive the Japanese for the atrocities he'd witnessed at Saipan.

Alphonse “Cookie” Koch hung up his glove and put away his triple 'A' uniform and shipped off to France when was eighteen years old. He came home in 1945 with a permanent limp, a Purple Heart, and Nazi campaign banner that he'd taken when his unit liberated a prison camp in Germany. He never talked about the war with anyone until his nephew, Jim returned from Vietnam. They would sit in the yard together and have a beer, talking for hours, just the two of them. He never talked about it with anyone else.

To all the veteran's, all who serve in the military, and especially the Gold Star Families, thank you!