<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161</id><updated>2012-02-16T03:51:42.140-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crying Rock Farms</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>41</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-522174344397078683</id><published>2011-06-03T21:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-03T21:33:13.545-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother Earth News Fair</title><content type='html'>Come heckle me and stick around to hear keynote Joel Salatin, as well as other local folks and interesting voices. &lt;a href="http://www.motherearthnews.com/fair/workshop-puyallup.aspx"&gt;http://www.motherearthnews.com/fair/workshop-puyallup.aspx&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-522174344397078683?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/522174344397078683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2011/06/mother-earth-news-fair.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/522174344397078683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/522174344397078683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2011/06/mother-earth-news-fair.html' title='Mother Earth News Fair'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-3852657190064093845</id><published>2011-04-21T21:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T22:19:00.578-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MpEg9uWBJ8Y/TbEJ8ozZZII/AAAAAAAAAIw/fhu_1yBZbAw/s1600/studio%2B007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598266749148030082" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MpEg9uWBJ8Y/TbEJ8ozZZII/AAAAAAAAAIw/fhu_1yBZbAw/s400/studio%2B007.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been able to squeeze in time for a blog for some time. So here we go... eggs are off to a slow start with 90% of our layers turning out to be roosters. The roosters are breeding each other, the turkeys are breeding the ducks, the ducks are breeding the geese, The geese are trying to hatch the chicken eggs, the goats are trying to get inside the rabbit pens, and the sheep are taking down the hot wire to set the pigs free, and an IT guy is farming. Did I mention someone has been selling chickens unauthorized under the Cryingrock label. I never in my life imagined I would have trouble with chicken counterfeiting. That is just weird. We made it through winter by the skin of our teeth, and are welcoming spring in our own um... unique way. The day after my birthday we welcomed a small litter of mulefoots. They are doing great and are a ton of fun. At a week old they are already walking up for back scratches. It was a very timely birth, as the numbers I have been hearing for existing Mulefoots are down to the 200's, I am trying to confirm for sure. So there are lots of new things happening here for spring. We inherited a small group of Tamworth Hogs from Black Sheep Farm outside of Port Angeles, started guinea hens, pheasants, and our spring chickens. Also we received our custom slaughter license for pigs etc. It is a weird dichotomy, that the hand that scratches the belly, is the hand that also splits the belly, but we wouldn't have it any other way. Humane treatment and quality are under our watch from gestation to plate, and it's a responsibility that we take solemnly. So in these early spring days of "rain, sun, hail, repeat", think about ordering a pig for you and your neighbor. Not before Saturday though, I need to replace my winch first. Since I broke it I dropped a gambrel with a 180lb pig hanging, down on my nose, and I don't want to do that twice. Mostly because I don't want to have to explain that I look the way I do because I dropped a pig on my face. If you can't make it out to see the new pigs, I will be bringing some out to the Mother Earth News Fair June 4Th and 5Th ( http://www.motherearthnews.com/fair/Puyallup.aspx). You can save if you order tickets ahead of time. And if you're in the Seattle area tomorrow, come by Pike Place and say hi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-3852657190064093845?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/3852657190064093845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-havent-been-able-to-squeeze-in-time.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/3852657190064093845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/3852657190064093845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-havent-been-able-to-squeeze-in-time.html' title=''/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MpEg9uWBJ8Y/TbEJ8ozZZII/AAAAAAAAAIw/fhu_1yBZbAw/s72-c/studio%2B007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-1820118507888943461</id><published>2011-02-25T00:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-25T01:05:23.788-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To market to market to buy a fat pig....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mYE6ukAAcZo/TWdtGqTps5I/AAAAAAAAAIo/Gw5917DMPFs/s1600/Snow%2BGrazing%2B012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mYE6ukAAcZo/TWdtGqTps5I/AAAAAAAAAIo/Gw5917DMPFs/s400/Snow%2BGrazing%2B012.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577546624725005202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days ago, the pigs were grazing in golden sun. Today they were back in the snow again. The snow this time around has been nice, since there hasn’t been the deep freeze like the last. Hopefully it stays that way so we can get to market on Saturday. Speaking of which, we will be three weeks old at Pike Place Market this week. Usually we are right under the famous neon sign. Last week it was a crystal clear sunny day and you could see across the pond to the Olympics, all the way over to Rainier, all from our booth. Folks would ask “where is Orting”, and I could just point behind me to the mountain. You would be amazed how many passers by read my sign aloud as “pasteurIZED pork”, it has happened so many times that I would not be surprised if they read it as homogenized as well. The Market has been fun. It is a hard day though, you have to squeeze out a whole days worth of farm chores before hitting the road at 7AM. But we have enjoyed getting visits from friends and family (especially those who brought treats), and meeting new people. The response to our rabbits at the market has been a great. The hard part is holding back enough of them to keep the breeding program going. It is a fine balance. Like Sally Field said “You like my rabbits, right now, you like my rabbits”. We have been trying a number of production systems with the rabbits, and are finding our groove. The timing is is kind of classic for us. For some reason we have this reoccurring theme of starting things at the wrongliest time. Farming in December, market in February. Maybe we will sell down coats, and woolly mittens this August, who knows. Well winter has been a bear, and an effort of survival. Signs of life are starting to break through though. The blue bells are a couple inches tall, hops are sprouting, hens are starting to lay again, and a lamb just dropped. I hope these are signs of a bountiful year to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-1820118507888943461?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/1820118507888943461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2011/02/two-days-ago-pigs-were-grazing-in.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/1820118507888943461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/1820118507888943461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2011/02/two-days-ago-pigs-were-grazing-in.html' title='To market to market to buy a fat pig....'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mYE6ukAAcZo/TWdtGqTps5I/AAAAAAAAAIo/Gw5917DMPFs/s72-c/Snow%2BGrazing%2B012.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-4799299982267570948</id><published>2010-12-08T09:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-08T10:30:19.044-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mulefoot +3</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TP_JFo_X4GI/AAAAAAAAAIY/6Ux_9zaXXnE/s1600/pigerella%2527s%2Blitter%2B434.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548374364683493474" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TP_JFo_X4GI/AAAAAAAAAIY/6Ux_9zaXXnE/s400/pigerella%2527s%2Blitter%2B434.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The snow was beyond beautiful. Bella made a snow angel. Daniel and Jude made the biggest snow ball known to man. The white blanket covering the world even makes it quieter, with folks staying off the road. Sammy the wonder dog like many Washington drivers, took off at full speed – so sure and confident, not realizing that the breaks are not as reliable in the snow. It took him a few slide crash and burns before he got his snow feet. Before the snow we had a big box of plastic grocery bags from a former life when we used to go to the store. These all became holey boot liners, and lasted the whole storm! Sorry, you can take the boy out of Hilltop, but you can’t take Hilltop out of the boy. I had never in life had so many folks notice my foot apparel as when doing this particular survival ritual. Reactions generally fell into two categories – those very few who said hey that’s a great idea, and those who were completely perplexed. Thats OK, bag in the boot boy is used to being misunderstood. The Pigs did not think twice about the snow. Without having ever seen it before, they all knew to eat it heartily. I guess that is because it fell into thier favorite category of food - "anything". We put out a more robust shelter with walls, as opposed to their warm weather tarp. Late in the evening they would retire here to form a steaming pile of pigs in a box. They just spent the day rooting and grazing like nothing changed. Except I think they were eating twice as much to keep up the body heat. Sometimes when working the fences I had to stop and pet them so they would defrost my hands with their radiant heat. The snow did pile up on our polywire fences, but the charge stayed strong. I spent a lot of time knocking off what looked like clear rock candy from the whole line. The rest of the time I spent praying that the snow would melt before I needed to switch pastures, because my other posts and wire were under a white blanket buried who knows where. So it was beautiful, peaceful, But it was hard. A lot of work gets put on hold, or just takes a lot longer. Truck doors are frozen shut, and fingers are too cold to properly grab anything. I am trying to get caught up and cleaned up before it hits again. To add to the chaos we let the chickens out of the tractors so there are 200 free range birds piling on my feet whenever I am trying to do anything around the barnyard (they did great in the snow too). As far as I know we haven’t lost any to predators yet. For the most part they sleep on the haystack in the barn at night. There was one who slept alone in the snow the first night. We named her snowball due to the ice ball attached to her tail for the proceeding two days. We eventually cut it off even though it prevented us from recognizing her any longer. They are doing their best to scatter around any cleaning up I do, and cover it up in chicken doo. Sammy can’t handle the temptation anymore. Three times I have caught him with yellow feathers on his tongue. He doesn’t eat em, he just wants to show them he’s boss. This will be the last time we let that many birds run amuck. Next year we will be doing a day range system for a study with WSU. I kept saying that the Mulefoot litter was due around Christmas, but the piglets could sense the chaos, and decided to add to it by coming out today! That is OK, we welcome the surprise. It was a very small litter, only three. But that is OK being Pigerella’s first litter, and the Mulefoot’s are expected to have smaller litters anyhoo. I have to say these are the cutest piglets yet. Tiny solid hooves and big ears. Kid Pig is very gentle, and calls them just as Pigerella does. Pigerella is a fine mother, cautious not to sit on the tiny babies smaller than her nose. She had them nursing right away as well. She lets me come in and pet the piglets without a gripe. One did squeal when I pet it with my cold hand, and she let me know that would be enough. Mom and Babies are doing great. We gave them a celebration dinner of Cheese, bread, and vegetables. Their breakfast tomorrow will be mostly a bunch of sod clumps, which will help the piglets get the iron they need without having to inject shots like the norm. They actually come out of the womb knowing exactly what to do with dirt and grass, so why complicate it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-4799299982267570948?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/4799299982267570948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/12/snow-was-beyond-beautiful.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/4799299982267570948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/4799299982267570948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/12/snow-was-beyond-beautiful.html' title='Mulefoot +3'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TP_JFo_X4GI/AAAAAAAAAIY/6Ux_9zaXXnE/s72-c/pigerella%2527s%2Blitter%2B434.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-2718956674987912752</id><published>2010-10-25T00:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T01:09:45.704-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Day In The Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TMU446a4JfI/AAAAAAAAAGg/uV0Czy76Pz8/s1600/october+pastures+014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531890267700340210" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TMU446a4JfI/AAAAAAAAAGg/uV0Czy76Pz8/s400/october+pastures+014.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Joy! My rain barrels were filled this morning. This saves me a ton of work. I was so happy when I saw it that I laughed out loud. These days I wake up the rooster. I did so today starting my morning ritual, of letting him and the other Hamburg’s out of the coop. Everyone layed an egg (except the rooster, of whom we don’t require the service). I think the paragraph I just typed may have been the lyrics to Ice-Cube’s “today was a good day”, I better check to make sure I am not plagiarizing. Kid Pig’s piglets fed – check, Kid Pig and Pigerella fed and watered – check. Now let’s just continue this blissful morn on out and check on the chicken tractors. Oh no! Chickens are supposed to be in tractors, not around tractors… Apparently there was a gusty wind that blew the lid off one. As I cruised up full speed on my forest gump lawn mower, the birds came running up to me. I am sure it is because they wanted to eat me, but lucky for me their mouths were too small. After I caught the first one, the others changed their minds and ran off. Next me and Sammy the super pup reenacted the scene from “Rocky” where he is being trained by chasing a chicken. I was the chubby Norwegian Rocky, and Sammy was a furry mick – “you got to have speed Rock”. Sammy went around the tractor and held them off while I scooped them up. Amazing what that poor dog can do without his owners knowing how to train him. He was so ecstatic to get to herd something he was jumping in the air. Speaking of air, above us the local birds of prey were circling to offer clean up assistance should we miss anything (one of the main reasons why they are in tractors). I began to lecture the chickens. With the kids gone this weekend, I think I needed to be paternal at something. That was ill received and unsuccessful. After moving the tractors, we went over to water the pasture pigs. Sammy was so amped on herding that he flipped out and couldn’t stop doing his “jump and bark” at the pig fence. Finally I found myself between him and the pigs and he bit my leg. I think he quickly realized I only taste a little like pig, and quickly shied away. I threw my bucket and yelled “no”. He sulked under the gump tractor, and just sat silently for the rest of the time. If he had a paddle ball at the time he probably would have played it.&lt;br /&gt;The ground is getting real soft with the rains. This makes the pigs go through the pasture a lot faster. They dig up huge clumps of soggy sod and flip it over finding bugs and roots. Bummer for me, a lot of times they drop these clumps on the electric fence, shorting it out creating a gateway to piggly freedom. I continued my ritual of walking the fence line, removing the clumps. Everything is well, time to gear up to give some friends a farm tour in a few minutes. I found a quick minute to throw down some breakfast and another cup of joe. I was watering the chickens when our visitors arrived. I started my usual tour, and when we got within visibility of the pasture pigs, my friend said “It looks like one of them is not in the fence”. Words like that always send a shock through me more than the fence itself. We ran out there to assess the situation. Surely, Strawberry was out having her own tour of the farm. I was just telling everyone how they can bury the fence, and not 20 minutes from when I had just unburied it, they reburied it, all stinking wires! The young pigs were starting to follow after strawberry. I could barely find the fence. I quickly started digging through deep clumps of mud and grass, trying to restore some sort of order to this circus. I got the fence out, but it was broken in one place. Hmm… how does farmer Joel tie the fence back together without getting defibrillated? If I run back to turn it off, everyone will escape. I managed to use two fence posts like chopsticks to form a square knot, tensioning with my rubber boot. Now why is it when I am tying knots with my feet, and holding the shocking fence of perpetual death with giant chopsticks, I get the most random obscure calls?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Hello, this is joel (foggy glasses, clutching phone between shoulder and chin)…&lt;br /&gt;Caller: (In a smuckers like grampa tone) I understand you are selling a resonator guitar on craigslist…&lt;br /&gt;Me: yes sir that is me…. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Caller: well I don’t want to buy it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: Oh, uh um otay er… &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Caller: You see I am selling my resonator, but I don’t know how much it is worth, I was hoping you could tell me… &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: I am sorry sir you should talk to an appraiser… &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Caller: Speek up sonny I don't hear well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;ME: Appraisor…God have mercy on me..Ap-rais-or...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Caller: I don’t know one, do you?, whats happening, something is happening with my phone, I have a friend who uses the internet..….&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Long story short, I learned far too much about this nice man, at a very wrong time. The fence somehow was back up, It wasn’t pretty, but it was functioning. I had my buddies start chucking treats into the middle of the pasture to lure the piggies in away from the fence, and draw strawberry back in. As soon as she saw the treats, she slipped under the fence as I lifted it up (with a spare post). With everyone in their proper place, I went back to take care of some farm sales, and start another tour. Guess what the first question of the next tour was? I am sure I don’t need to tell you. Yes sir you are correct, those pigs are out of the fence... They had already buried the fence again. I decided it was time to get their new pasture built so they will keep their digging away from the fence line. Good thing this torrential rain is here now so we don’t get too hot while we work :). I guess you can’t have all sunny days and full rain barrels too. The new fence went up quick, and just in time. As soon as I had the exterior up and charged, the pigs buried the betweener fence and marched on through, I didn’t even have to ask them. After they passed, I just put it back up, and voila! Next I put up their tent shelter, with the usual assistance in the form of a couple pigs sitting on the tarp while I try to hang it, and another doing tug of war while I tie it. I then rechecked the fence line. All is well. Seeing a new fence up always gives me a feeling of satisfaction. Seeing how happy the pigs are knee deep in buffet always makes me happy too. I asked them all several times today as they were burying fences faster than I could recover them….seriously, could you really be that hungry? Whether they are hungry or not, they eat like a black hole. I think they are having a growth spurt. They are starting to get to that size where you are less telling them what to do than offering polite suggestions. With all the disasters of the day resolved, I hopped in there with the pigs for their daily ear scratches and belly rubs. I explained that I didn’t mean all those nasty things I said earlier. They just stood there quiet with mouths full of dandelions. By now it was getting dark, so I needed to squeeze in one more move for the chicken tractors before they doze off. Me and Sammy both looking like soggy mops, locked the Hamburg’s in their coop, and went to dry off. Canned Heat is on the radio and life is good. Should you need to borrow a pig to dig a Chunnel or would like some tasty pastured pork sausages, give me a call. Just don’t call to tell me you are not buying my guitar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-2718956674987912752?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/2718956674987912752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-in-life.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/2718956674987912752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/2718956674987912752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-in-life.html' title='A Day In The Life'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TMU446a4JfI/AAAAAAAAAGg/uV0Czy76Pz8/s72-c/october+pastures+014.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-2166150990328640495</id><published>2010-09-30T10:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-30T10:53:48.754-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chickens on Parade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TKTND1zpUpI/AAAAAAAAAGY/_WDVhU5MKQI/s1600/Stock+Rack+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522764508930069138" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TKTND1zpUpI/AAAAAAAAAGY/_WDVhU5MKQI/s400/Stock+Rack+002.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The chickens are cruisin down the pasture in their tractors. Little Eorth farm next door kindly loaned us the tractors because they knew in the timeframe it takes me to finish a project, they would be extinct before they got pastured. We have adopted one of the chickens as another farm mascot. He is blind and therefore wasnt getting around as able as the others. We named him Clarence Fountain, and he likes to perch on our shoulder. Don't forget this Saturday is Harvest Fest from 10-4. The website is:  http://www.pierce.wsu.edu/ag/harvestfest.html . We will be grilling and selling our own pastured bratwurst and retailing variety boxes of pastured pork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TKTK1s4ib7I/AAAAAAAAAGI/Yr29v6Bba0U/s1600/Stock+Rack+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522762066993246130" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TKTK1s4ib7I/AAAAAAAAAGI/Yr29v6Bba0U/s400/Stock+Rack+005.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-2166150990328640495?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/2166150990328640495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/09/chickens-on-parade.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/2166150990328640495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/2166150990328640495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/09/chickens-on-parade.html' title='Chickens on Parade'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TKTND1zpUpI/AAAAAAAAAGY/_WDVhU5MKQI/s72-c/Stock+Rack+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-4305507333252719479</id><published>2010-09-25T21:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-25T22:07:46.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TJ7ShnYFdrI/AAAAAAAAAF4/-MKTqojVH0M/s1600/tiger+in+the+water+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521081668150326962" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TJ7ShnYFdrI/AAAAAAAAAF4/-MKTqojVH0M/s400/tiger+in+the+water+001.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;By now I should have learned that whenever I start to feel like things are in order, and under control, I should at that moment duck - expecting things to spontaneously combust. Today was business as usual, with the addition of some friends and family dropping by to lend a hand with farm chores and projects, gearing up for the October second Harvest Fest (you are invited by the way). We had harvested a good part of our dear piggies, and were planning out how the remaining herds will be ordered moving forward. I made an executive decision. All the growers will be separated off into their own herd, while all the sows will run with the Mulefoots. In other words making one group into two, and then two others into one. All I have to do to accomplish this is have total cooperation from the animals. Well, we built fabulous fences around some lush green paddocks, and were ready to bait and switch. Easy right? We get all the growers into the new pen and managed to push the sows back when Tiger Pig all of the sudden grew springs on her feet and leaped over the top of the fence. This reminds me of when I read pigs don’t jump. Did I mention she did it twice? This was not one of my low budget mini fences that Teresa shakes her head at, this was my super duty San Quentin model with an extra third strand of electric! It was the best I had to offer and Tiger leaped it like a horse. After wallowing in my self pity for a brief moment we pretty easily coerced her back in with a treat. She is a woman surely subject to her passions. I had to bear the tuff news to Kid Pig that the date was off. He was mostly just worried about what the kids at school would think about him getting stood up. We resolved to keep the growers and sows in their new pasture together and not fight it. No sooner had I done this, when the pigs started shoving each other over who gets to sit in the water trough. In all the ruckus, a little guy was pushed out of the wire. I say a little guy but he is probably at least 65 pounds. I chased him for a while, and soon the kids came and the fearless herd dog Sammy. Sammy utilized his vast training and natural instinct to wait until I had the pig caught and picked up, before he nipped him in the rump. Thanks for the help boy. He sat back with this vindicated look of “that’s what I’m here for”. Well for the most part everyone is in their proper place, or at least the place we grew too tired to wrestle them out of. Be sure to come by for Harvest fest next Saturday the second, we will be selling "hot off the grill" our own Crying Rock Bratwurst. Also we will be selling at the farm - variety packs of select sausages and cuts. We plan on wrangling some piglets into a pen so you can meet them, and Sumner Tractor has graciously donated a tractor for the day for hay rides! That is great because Teresa gave me the strangest look when I said I was going to pull the hay wagon with my lawn mower. We will be giving tours where you can see first hand, our rotational methods and pasture life cycle. Heck - watch the pigs outsmart us as it happens! Watch the chickens cruise in their tractors! It will be a death defying three ring agro-circus you don't want to miss!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-4305507333252719479?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/4305507333252719479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/09/by-now-i-should-have-learned-that.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/4305507333252719479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/4305507333252719479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/09/by-now-i-should-have-learned-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TJ7ShnYFdrI/AAAAAAAAAF4/-MKTqojVH0M/s72-c/tiger+in+the+water+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-5905528645936309062</id><published>2010-08-31T18:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T18:29:09.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Harvest Fest Oct 2 2010!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://prideofpierce.posterous.com/pierce-county-harvestfest-save-the-date-octob"&gt;http://prideofpierce.posterous.com/pierce-county-harvestfest-save-the-date-octob&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-5905528645936309062?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/5905528645936309062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/08/harvest-fest-oct-2-2010.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/5905528645936309062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/5905528645936309062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/08/harvest-fest-oct-2-2010.html' title='Harvest Fest Oct 2 2010!'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-7078370068005564561</id><published>2010-08-17T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-20T20:08:55.097-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Porcine Rodeo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TG16HqK5U-I/AAAAAAAAAFI/SWHlqrNxsH8/s1600/riding+pigs+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507192191341646818" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TG16HqK5U-I/AAAAAAAAAFI/SWHlqrNxsH8/s400/riding+pigs+011.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We decided to make the pasture switch a family affair. Meaning instead of the usual me vs the pigs, it was me vs the pigs and feral children. It was actually really fun. I had Teresa ready on the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Walkie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Talkie switching the power on and off while I modified the fence. Once we created a pass through gate, the kids all threw a treat in the new pasture to bribe the pigs in for a fast change. It actually went pretty smooth. It quickly digressed into a free for all where all three kids suddenly learned how to ride pigs like a horse. Yes I said the kids were riding pigs like horses. I was so shocked, for many different reasons I just had to become a spectator and watch. Sometimes I worry if my little piglets are growing, well I saw them in a different light as they carried my kids around like a bird on the back. I opened up the well to create a new wallow, and all the kids synchronized their efforts to loose their flip flops all at once in the mud. If you were riding your bicycle down the street during the event, you probably would have seen me waving my arms and blurting "told you to wear boots, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bladdy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bladdy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;..." It went in one ear and out the other, to much fun to be had, and the sun was so hot I think our brains were evaporated by then anyway. It is so hot that pigs don't need much for shelter, just shade. For this time of year I just pound in four t-posts and string a tarp up. The pigs always help out by scratching themselves on the posts while I pound, and standing on the tarp while I tie it. It was great to see the pigs so enthralled in their pasture. Alot of volunteer plants seemed to be favorites, particularly wild geraniums. After that it was dinner for us, and then off to work on our former residence. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-7078370068005564561?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/7078370068005564561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/08/porchine-rodeo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/7078370068005564561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/7078370068005564561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/08/porchine-rodeo.html' title='Porcine Rodeo'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TG16HqK5U-I/AAAAAAAAAFI/SWHlqrNxsH8/s72-c/riding+pigs+011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-225074595211816408</id><published>2010-08-15T21:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T22:45:52.954-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Keeping the Mulefoot alive</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TGjDmvfkYvI/AAAAAAAAAEw/-aFzjIYfu-k/s1600/new+layer%27s+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505865614811751154" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TGjDmvfkYvI/AAAAAAAAAEw/-aFzjIYfu-k/s400/new+layer%27s+023.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So as I mentioned before, the Mulefoot sow has arrived. Turns out a farm here in the valley had bought a breeding pair and lost their boar. You may remember we had lost our sow last winter in transport. While we still hope one day she will show up on our doorstep with a suitcase bearing stickers of all the places she had visited since she hopped out of our stock box - we know for now we need to make other plans... So the appropriately named "Pigerella" is on site and occupying the honeymoon sweet with Kid Pig. Already we have a bunch of Mulefoot crosses running around, and now expect to see some full Mulefoot piglets around Christmas. True to form for the breed, Pigerella has the best temperament you could ask for. I had an epiphany that depending on the size of the litter, we will have over 1% of the existing Mulefoot herd here at Crying Rock. Our little border collie pup "Sammy" is learning the ropes here at the farm, and really wants to herd pigs. His challenges so far are that the piglets want to play with him, and the sows have in the past, offered to eat larger dogs. Maybe we will start him with the chickens instead. Meanwhile, the pigs are in the pasture that was over seeded with Canola, and they love it. They have about two days of grazing left in the field before I send them into the next, that was over seeded with buckwheat and sugar beets, along with some volunteer mustard and oats.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-225074595211816408?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/225074595211816408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/08/keeping-mulefoot-alive.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/225074595211816408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/225074595211816408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/08/keeping-mulefoot-alive.html' title='Keeping the Mulefoot alive'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TGjDmvfkYvI/AAAAAAAAAEw/-aFzjIYfu-k/s72-c/new+layer%27s+023.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-7448645322867612138</id><published>2010-07-25T22:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T22:52:59.409-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hay going and piglets coming</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TE0ZgA6MsZI/AAAAAAAAAEo/DBzhprS2jus/s1600/Annabelle%27s+litter+031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498078757879853458" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TE0ZgA6MsZI/AAAAAAAAAEo/DBzhprS2jus/s400/Annabelle%27s+litter+031.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you have driven by the place lately you may have witnessed a grass stuffed giant &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;marshmallow&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Stonehenge&lt;/span&gt; like arrangement, like Stanley Kubrick's interpretation of our agricultural future. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Don't&lt;/span&gt;' fret, that is just the ancient art of hay being done. There are some local fellas that have been haying this land for years, and the grass was growing faster than I could graze, so we worked it out. I don't know if I was more impressed by the art or industry of it, but the only ones who enjoyed seeing it more than I was the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;coyotes&lt;/span&gt;. In broad daylight they will follow the baler picking up the mice who just had &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; thatch roofs removed. I am sad to see the marshmallows loaded up and heading down the road, but excited to let the field turn green again, and spread the grazing pastures farther out. Currently the pigs are tilling the new hop field. It is getting late in the year for our hop trials, and I think we can kiss this fall's harvest goodbye, but we should have our foundation plants in the ground and ready to overwinter in time to make a strong showing next year. Ezra Meeker would till new ground twice and then stick new hops in, tilling occasionally between the rows to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;control&lt;/span&gt; weeds (all horse draft). We are just going to have the pigs till so most of the natural soil structure, and microbial life will stay intact. We haven't decided who will graze the rows between yet, so far it is a tossup between the smaller breed pigs, and sheep. We will have them do paper scissors rock and see who wins. Speaking of the smaller breed pigs, our prized &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;mulefoot&lt;/span&gt; "Kid-Pig" just &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;congratulated&lt;/span&gt; his third wife on his third litter (her first). In a week or so his fourth wife, a registered &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;mulefoot&lt;/span&gt; from Minnesota will be arriving. I keep telling him to slow down, but he just tells me I am too old fashioned. Check out &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; if you want to see pics of the new ones.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-7448645322867612138?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/7448645322867612138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/07/hay-going-and-piglets-coming.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/7448645322867612138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/7448645322867612138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/07/hay-going-and-piglets-coming.html' title='Hay going and piglets coming'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TE0ZgA6MsZI/AAAAAAAAAEo/DBzhprS2jus/s72-c/Annabelle%27s+litter+031.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-3689084503010691824</id><published>2010-07-19T09:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T10:04:41.295-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sun and fertile ground</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TESBNXN2baI/AAAAAAAAAEg/3cKirpwgPjM/s1600/studio+apartment+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495659511869238690" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TESBNXN2baI/AAAAAAAAAEg/3cKirpwgPjM/s400/studio+apartment+009.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Hot sun, and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;extremely&lt;/span&gt; fertile ground has things growing like mad here. Grass depending on the species is anywhere between my waist and as high as I can lift my hat in the air. The pigs are grazing a dent in it, but most of the field has seeded out. This means it needs to be hayed off so it can go green again. Right now the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;neighbors&lt;/span&gt; are making round bales out on the field and it looks great (hence thier tractor in the pic) The first pasture that the pigs mowed down is almost fully grown back with a deep shade of green, with no irrigation and maybe one day of rain. The buckwheat is coming up too. I should be announcing the harvest schedule in a couple weeks or so. I have been planning the pasures to be about two weeks of grazing, and that has been working out pretty good. Ususally I will throw the pigs a snack every day, to remind them they are domesticated, and that they like me. Unfortunately it causes them to associate me with tasty snacks all the time, so when I go out to walk the fence line, the whole heard follows me along the fence line, honking in single file. I can't help but laugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-3689084503010691824?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/3689084503010691824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/07/sun-and-fertile-ground.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/3689084503010691824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/3689084503010691824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/07/sun-and-fertile-ground.html' title='Sun and fertile ground'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TESBNXN2baI/AAAAAAAAAEg/3cKirpwgPjM/s72-c/studio+apartment+009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-2118089096260739232</id><published>2010-07-06T14:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T14:58:51.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pasture sytems go!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TDOd_tqF87I/AAAAAAAAAEY/eKn1R6GUl7I/s1600/three+pastures+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490906088608232370" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TDOd_tqF87I/AAAAAAAAAEY/eKn1R6GUl7I/s400/three+pastures+001.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My phone doesn't take the grandest photos, but what we have here is the last three pasture rotations. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Foreground&lt;/span&gt; is about to be opened to new grazing, middle ground is current grazing, and the next field out is regrowth from the last grazing. I cannot believe how fast the pasture springs back with growth after the pigs have tilled her. At three weeks rest it is almost regrown. If you were to see closely you would notice that the pigs don't leave the ground level. They dig all kinds of peaks and valleys. For the first replanting (in addition to the pasture that regrows on it's own) We have &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;broadcasted&lt;/span&gt; sugar beets in the peaks, and buckwheat in the low spots. The buckwheat will create &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;allot&lt;/span&gt; of biomass, as well as rich forage, while helping to fill in. We hope the beets will lure the pigs to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;re level&lt;/span&gt; the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;high points&lt;/span&gt; next pass through. If the birds leave the seeds in the ground, and the pigs cooperate - it will be a pretty cool &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;system&lt;/span&gt; without need of machinery. No machinery &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;outside&lt;/span&gt; of the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;sickle bar&lt;/span&gt; mower I use to mow the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;fence line&lt;/span&gt; at least. Pasture samples were lab tested at 20% &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;protein&lt;/span&gt;, try to buy commercial feed that dense. Now that the grass is in seed the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;protein&lt;/span&gt; is lower, but morning glory is running rampant, and making up for it, and the pigs go crazy for the morning glory. When I get a chance I try to cut a little and hand &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ensile&lt;/span&gt; pasture for leaner days. So far the silage is a delicacy to the pigs, so that may play into winter plans for these guys if I can figure out how manage the large quantities without braking my spine. In general I like the pigs to pick &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; own grass. We are getting ready to breed our first 100% &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;mulefoot&lt;/span&gt; pair in a week or so, and rethinking the breeds for our production girls. The 50% &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;mulefoot&lt;/span&gt; piglets are growing fast, and are lightening quick little guys. They are like watching furry little &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;pin balls&lt;/span&gt; bounce around. Carrie next door at Little &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Eorthe&lt;/span&gt; farm is helping us plan out our seed saving field for our heirloom "Mammoth Red Mangle" beets. These monsters grow up to 20 pounds, and likely will be an important part of our winter forage &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;systems&lt;/span&gt; in the future. We are growing seed, because it takes a mortgage to buy them, and also they are very rare and hard to get. We have had some challenges recently with organic &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;wormers&lt;/span&gt;. We had been using &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;diatomatious&lt;/span&gt; earth, which was not working internally. If anyone out there in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;interweb&lt;/span&gt; land has had success with natural remedies, I would love to talk shop. Other than that we are loving being &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;on site&lt;/span&gt;. Carrie Little just tilled our family garden for us and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tahoma&lt;/span&gt; Farms gave us a bunch of starts to put in. With neighbors like these we may just have to stick around for a while.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-2118089096260739232?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/2118089096260739232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/07/pasture-sytems-go.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/2118089096260739232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/2118089096260739232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/07/pasture-sytems-go.html' title='Pasture sytems go!'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TDOd_tqF87I/AAAAAAAAAEY/eKn1R6GUl7I/s72-c/three+pastures+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-346667635446330742</id><published>2010-07-02T14:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T14:45:59.582-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FYI new contact info. cryingrockfarms@gmail.com</title><content type='html'>I check it once or twice a week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-346667635446330742?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/346667635446330742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/07/fyi-new-contact-info.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/346667635446330742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/346667635446330742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/07/fyi-new-contact-info.html' title='FYI new contact info. cryingrockfarms@gmail.com'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-6434951298283583144</id><published>2010-06-24T13:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T13:23:59.025-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The season we have all been waiting for!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TCO7deEe_sI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/gPuDFEvBaC0/s1600/summer+at+the+farm+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486434886029868738" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TCO7deEe_sI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/gPuDFEvBaC0/s400/summer+at+the+farm+005.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is what the first day of summer looked like here at the rock. A couple of our blackberries basking in the mysterious light above. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Allot&lt;/span&gt; of folks think Himalayans are an invasive species. But how could something be imposing when it just wants to crawl into a bottle of wine? The pigs have tilled around four acres so far, and counting. The ground behind them is holes and mounds differentiating between 6 inches to one and half feet in varience. For our first replanting we will be broadcasting root seeds in the hills, and buckwheat in the holes. Over time the bio mass should even out the level again. If not, then next time through the pigs will dig down the hills for the roots, and get er releveled. I am trying to avoid tilling since the pigs are leaving the soil structure pretty much in tact, but we shall see. So far Summer has been pretty true to form, the kids are out riding bikes and finding bugs and snakes. We are doing alot of hand haying long into the evening. Life is hard, and life is good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-6434951298283583144?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/6434951298283583144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/06/season-we-have-all-been-waiting-for.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/6434951298283583144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/6434951298283583144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/06/season-we-have-all-been-waiting-for.html' title='The season we have all been waiting for!'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TCO7deEe_sI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/gPuDFEvBaC0/s72-c/summer+at+the+farm+005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-2440328433998751642</id><published>2010-06-18T16:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T16:53:39.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Blais family has landed...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TBwG4cpcn8I/AAAAAAAAAEI/IHTduM45EFA/s1600/1112A+pics+014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484266013062897602" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TBwG4cpcn8I/AAAAAAAAAEI/IHTduM45EFA/s400/1112A+pics+014.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After living in the same city for 31 years or so, they have finally put me out to pasture. We have been living on site for two days now. It has been a little too busy to really appreciate it. It is a little surreal, Teresa and I feel like we are staying at a cabin, and we are waiting for Monday when they make us go home. But today is Monday and this is now home. Moving day overall went spectacular, except that the pigs knew we were busy and decided to move too, outside of their fence. Thanks to cousin Donny for chasing them back in while we were in a truck full of our worldly possessions movin on down the road. Also, while the house here was empty, an extended family of little grey mice decided it was cozier in the house than in the field. We closed up all the holes and vacuumed up all the little black presents they dotted in all the corners, set some traps, and now assume we will not be carried off by them in the night. But we will see. One of the first things you notice out here is the stars. Big and bright. Nighttime goes down a little differently now, the old sirens are traded now for frogs croaking and wily coyotes howling. And the smell of burgers, fries, and paper mills are traded for the sweet smell that blows across the grass. I don’t know how the smell changes when it turns dark, but it is awesome – and addicting. Since on site we have also found out Teresa is quite the pig whisperer, as you can see in the picture she has this little piggy hypnotized with a belly rub.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-2440328433998751642?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/2440328433998751642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/06/blais-family-has-landed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/2440328433998751642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/2440328433998751642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/06/blais-family-has-landed.html' title='The Blais family has landed...'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TBwG4cpcn8I/AAAAAAAAAEI/IHTduM45EFA/s72-c/1112A+pics+014.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-8626908517395229726</id><published>2010-05-28T19:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T21:28:53.101-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life and Death</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TAB5ZmDs3SI/AAAAAAAAAEA/JjyPsBckys4/s1600/pasture3+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476510627502284066" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TAB5ZmDs3SI/AAAAAAAAAEA/JjyPsBckys4/s400/pasture3+011.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TAB49nSxITI/AAAAAAAAAD4/f9TmXPvWoco/s1600/pasture3+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was an article earlier this month about 1500 pigs dying because of a power outage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.journalgazette.net/article/20100512/NEWS07/100519874"&gt;http://www.journalgazette.net/article/20100512/NEWS07/100519874&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh, I feel for the farmers and the animals. A loss like that is terrible in so many ways. How could a power outage lead to this? It could be said there is a flaw in the model when there so many animals crammed into a box so small that air ceasing to be pumped in for a few moments leads to monumental death. I am not going to kick this guy while he is down. I blame him no more than I blame traffic congestion and smog on the guy on the assembly line putting mirrors on Fords. We drove the car, and we ate the pork chop. God knows my model is far from perfect, and I have a disheartening number of failures for every success. I am convinced however that sustainability is 90% not being ridiculous, and 10% mystery. Pigs want to be outside. Pigs want to gather their own food. Pigs do not bite each other’s tail off because you failed to cut it off first. Pigs don’t want to impersonate pickled sardines. That is what I mean by the 90%. The 10% is going to take some trial and error and a huge amount of humility. Whenever we assume we fully understand something, we often miss out on the needful details. Like boiling life down to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;NPK&lt;/span&gt; and waking up a century later one step away from desert. I have been doing &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; so far following these “not being ridiculous” assumptions, and down the road I am sure there will be some hard lessons. There is not a lot of guidance on full pasture systems with swine. Actually I haven’t found any. But in the wild, pigs are quite prolific and we can look to those systems at least. In the mean time I will measure quality by how many wild birds are perched on the backs of my sows. It still falls into the 10% realm however, how I will keep said birds out of the field peas I am broadcasting behind the grazing pigs. Here’s to the mystery.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-8626908517395229726?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/8626908517395229726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/05/life-and-death.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/8626908517395229726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/8626908517395229726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/05/life-and-death.html' title='Life and Death'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/TAB5ZmDs3SI/AAAAAAAAAEA/JjyPsBckys4/s72-c/pasture3+011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-8311619891694962294</id><published>2010-05-08T22:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T22:22:02.749-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S-ZF_HeYQTI/AAAAAAAAADw/lTFBdwJdm80/s1600/all+on+the+tractor+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469135748128588082" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S-ZF_HeYQTI/AAAAAAAAADw/lTFBdwJdm80/s400/all+on+the+tractor+002.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun was so bright today. One of those classic blue sky, puffy white cloud days. Like you remember from summers as a kid. All the kids were out “helping” today. That means while cutting grass on my little Forest &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Gump&lt;/span&gt; lawn tractor, Daniel was sailing on the bow, Jude was in my lap steering, and Bella was on the side fender laughing in my ear. It must have been ridiculous to see, but it was a lot of fun. Days like this are for cutting your silage while you can, slipping in a few conversations with lambs, piglet belly scratches, catching kittens, and yelling “get those scissors away from your sister’s face, put that machete back where you got it”! Most of the piglets have joined the herd and are hanging with the big girls. It makes me a little nervous, but for the most part the giants are gentle with the babies. The grass is getting real thick, between knee and waist high. Cut and compressed the animals eat about a cubic yard of it per day. Monday or Tuesday the pigs go into a new pasture so I won’t need to bring it to them anymore. I think we are getting pretty close to being able to farrow on pasture anyway so mowing will be a thing of the past (I keep telling myself). I hope to catch some time lapse of them switching pastures so you can see them at work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-8311619891694962294?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/8311619891694962294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/05/sun-was-so-bright-today.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/8311619891694962294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/8311619891694962294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/05/sun-was-so-bright-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S-ZF_HeYQTI/AAAAAAAAADw/lTFBdwJdm80/s72-c/all+on+the+tractor+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-1273921601970755684</id><published>2010-04-19T22:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T23:28:49.978-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don’t cast your pearls before swine...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S81CY1YKHaI/AAAAAAAAADo/baoPI76-VGc/s1600/beer+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462094917482978722" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S81CY1YKHaI/AAAAAAAAADo/baoPI76-VGc/s400/beer+004.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Or your eyeglasses for the same reason…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; With all the litters we have now, the initial morning feed has gotten complex. There is a lot of prepping and bringing food to the farrowing pens. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Patata&lt;/span&gt; was not pleased that she was not first in line and decided to jump over the wall to meet me half way. Her piglets were as shocked as I was. I could see squealing little snouts popping up and down just over the crest of the wall, as if they had found a little trampoline. Fortunately she only went into the cache pen I built next to her. I placed the feed in with her piglets, and quickly she hopped back over the wall. She knows her piglets take after her and would finish the dish before asking if she wanted some. You would not expect this girl to be so nimble, but she is a slave to her passions, and little stays in her way. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, pigs are now in their proper places, how shall we keep them put? Nail a board up higher of course. I go on a barnyard scavenger hunt gathering all the things: old 2x6, nails, hammer etc… I start nailing the board and off go the glasses - plummeting into the pig pen of no return, where 52 hooves quickly smash and turn to nice compost anything that meets their acquaintance . Think fast! Yes I caught them just in time, that was close. Putting them back on I realize I popped out a lens. The world suddenly looked like a 3D movie without the special glasses. After some left eye- right eye experimentation I narrowed down what eye was functioning. I looked out of the last good eye to spy that my precious lens landed softly in a nice fresh pile of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;doo&lt;/span&gt;. While considering whether I will lay down under those 52  hooves to retrieve my precious vision, or send Kid Pig to seeing eye dog school, I thought  of a third choice. I will reach in with the shovel and fetch it! I fumble around half blind, which for some reason is worse than had I just took the glasses off - due to some weird fuzzy depth perception thing going on. But no time for smart moves and wise choices, I am busy trying to do something fast. I find the shovel and walk across the fuzzy-blurry barnyard to retrieve the precious gem. I jump into the cache pen and stretch in with my hardware. Delicate…gentle…don’t bury it! There may be nothing more curious than a piglet. To a piglet, shovel in the pen means party. Everyone comes over to see what this amazing thing is. At least three of them are biting it, and at least one is sitting on it. Somehow me and the piglets managed to get the lens on the shovel and back in my hand. I quickly wiped it on, yes my shirt (at this point it’s about survival) and returned it to its proper and very functional place. When I got home and told the kids the story, Jude replied "did you wash your glasses yet"? &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Anyhoo&lt;/span&gt;, the pigs have been hogging all the attention and it is time to start sharing some with the next enterprise, hops. This picture is the remainder of last years Cascades giving a black &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;barleywine&lt;/span&gt; a fruity undertone, with a healthy layer of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Hallertau's&lt;/span&gt; on the top (fresh hopping). I stole a couple samples this week, but I think it needs a little more time before it is finished, hopefully in oak.  This one actually is brewed with a wild yeast, since I never got a chance to pitch the yeast (too busy chasing pigs) - but it decided it wanted to live and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;fermented&lt;/span&gt; itself. A lager surprisingly. Well this batch is the last of our hop supply so it is time to step up production. By end of May we will have in the ground: Cascade, Centennial, Chinook, Cluster, Crystal, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Fuggle&lt;/span&gt;, Galena, Glacier, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Hallertau&lt;/span&gt;, Liberty, Mt Hood, Newport, Nugget, Perle, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Saaz&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Santiam&lt;/span&gt;, Sterling, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tettnanger&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Vangaurd&lt;/span&gt;, Willamette - and a very very special variety that I will talk about at a later time. Tomorrow Joel &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Salatin&lt;/span&gt; is speaking in Seattle so I need to get things wrapped up at the farm quickly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-1273921601970755684?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/1273921601970755684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/04/dont-cast-your-pearls-before-swine.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/1273921601970755684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/1273921601970755684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/04/dont-cast-your-pearls-before-swine.html' title='Don’t cast your pearls before swine...'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S81CY1YKHaI/AAAAAAAAADo/baoPI76-VGc/s72-c/beer+004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-2324536092957244315</id><published>2010-04-17T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-17T20:54:57.587-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S8p93YhiKsI/AAAAAAAAADg/23PmQP5GsQI/s1600/beer+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461315888569526978" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S8p93YhiKsI/AAAAAAAAADg/23PmQP5GsQI/s400/beer+008.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This little guy is our first hazelnut, imported wild from my sister's yard over on Fox Island. It is step one of our long term plan of transitioning to a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;savanna&lt;/span&gt; like &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;polyculture&lt;/span&gt; for greater diversity grazing year round. Hops are going in the ground by end of may, and on that note I have been reading Ezra &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Meeker's&lt;/span&gt; "Hop Culture in the United States". It is a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;phenomenal&lt;/span&gt; read from a local historical &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;perspective&lt;/span&gt; if not only because I am the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;uber&lt;/span&gt; hop nerd. Love the pioneer spirit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-2324536092957244315?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/2324536092957244315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/04/this-little-guy-is-our-first-hazelnut.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/2324536092957244315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/2324536092957244315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/04/this-little-guy-is-our-first-hazelnut.html' title=''/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S8p93YhiKsI/AAAAAAAAADg/23PmQP5GsQI/s72-c/beer+008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-7814729703329453928</id><published>2010-04-03T20:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T20:55:54.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This will only take me two days, seriously...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gHEutfS4I/AAAAAAAAADY/0dhZSsgGWdk/s1600/Gerbil%27s+litter+082.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456118726399052674" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gHEutfS4I/AAAAAAAAADY/0dhZSsgGWdk/s400/Gerbil%27s+litter+082.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seriously. I have been trying to get the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;perimeter&lt;/span&gt; fence finished for almost a month. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Every time&lt;/span&gt; someone will ask "hows it coming", I reply "two more days". Those words have become a famous habitual lie at Crying Rock. Today I really was on my last second day of the last two days of fencing, when Gerbil started shooting babies out her back end. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Soooo&lt;/span&gt;, it may take a couple more days after all. This birth was different than the previous ones. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Patata&lt;/span&gt; and Silly had no issue with me picking up &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; little ones and shuffling them around. Gerbil is the dominant sow in the bunch, and for good reason. She looks like a bull with a flat nose, and today she was a momma bear. Every time I came near she puttered loudly like a Harley Davidson, and had a crazy wide eyed stare. Not the same girl as when her nest was empty. So I conceded and built a pen around where she &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;laid&lt;/span&gt; with the piglets as opposed to trying to move her to a different location - while she eats me for Easter brunch a day early. This birth however was much cleaner. She had them all washed up before I came in. With &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Silly's&lt;/span&gt; litter I ended up walking around &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Wallymart&lt;/span&gt; in the late hours, half asleep, looking for a heat lamp with a piglet in my shirt - &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;umbilical&lt;/span&gt; chord hanging out, and placenta covering my hand (long story - ask me later). I am &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;probably&lt;/span&gt; in a picture somewhere on a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; site because of that ordeal. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Anyhoo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; the cost of living the dream. I'll write a little more in two days, I'll have time because I'll be finished with the fence.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-7814729703329453928?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/7814729703329453928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/04/this-will-only-take-me-two-days.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/7814729703329453928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/7814729703329453928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/04/this-will-only-take-me-two-days.html' title='This will only take me two days, seriously...'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gHEutfS4I/AAAAAAAAADY/0dhZSsgGWdk/s72-c/Gerbil%27s+litter+082.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-1048486726675950558</id><published>2010-03-29T23:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T23:56:36.968-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring has sprung...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7Genl8gAtI/AAAAAAAAACw/M2OYXwhAY04/s1600/sillys+litter+019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454315026760336082" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7Genl8gAtI/AAAAAAAAACw/M2OYXwhAY04/s400/sillys+litter+019.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and today it sprung a leak. It was monsoon season here today. I am used to seeing rain in the context of on my windshield, or draining down my umbrella walking to work. It is a completely different experience watching it blow and billow across the large pasture, while listening to it all fall on the barn's metal roof. It was a beautiful orchestration. For those of you who get the blues when this weather happens, I have found the cure for it! All you have to do is develop a dependency for it, and you will relax when it comes. Build a rain catchment for your garden or hot tub, or put a metal roof over your deck for coffee outside. You will extend your fresh air season immensely, and welcome the rain like I do. That being said the sun we had last week was friggin awesome. Burn on my back to prove it. I can’t believe how long it has been since I have posted a blog entry. It has been very busy here at Crying Rock. Patata’s litter is 4 weeks old and they are huge! Silly’s litter is two weeks old and growing steady. We have had another litter since them and two on the way in a week or so. After that we shouldn’t see any new ones for about 2.5- 3 months when the Mulefoot\Chinese are born. We added 3 more Chinese landrace to the fray by the way. The last one we added -Annabel, so enamored Kid Pig that he immediately decided to get fresh without even taking time to introduce himself (it’s kind of his MO). This royally freaked Annabel out and she decided to break out and run off into the sunset. Hours later, me with a rope and a bucket of feed, neighbor Ken with his zippy golf cart and wascally hounds could do nothing to out sprint this chubby little ball of speed. Finally I called cousin Donny with his livestock wrangling dogs and he had her caught within a few minutes. Annabel is small until you have to carry her, I was sore for a week. I gave her a couple weeks to acclimate across the fence from Kid Pig, and this time it went a little smoother integrating them. She has taught me well. In the next couple days we will be moving all the sows who are not nursing litters into the new pasture, and planting behind them in the old paddock the first seasonal forage pasture. This time around it will be yellow peas, sugar beets, clover, canola, and oats. And a little bit of whatever they didn’t eat before they moved. I have had allot of crazy ideas about raising pigs and now that our feet are getting wet, we see working out (and others not so much). Many of you are familiar with the industrial model and understand that it is expected when a piglet is born it will have its tail cut off, needle teeth broken out, castrated, ears clipped or tagged, iron injected, and who knows what else…&lt;br /&gt;Well I am happy to report that despite not stealing their tails – they have not in turn had them bitten off by a tail hungry sibling. Castration, well the jury is out and we will hear back in 5 months, but some research is on my side (and so are all the male piglets). Despite failing to remove their teeth, mom and piglets are in great shape and growing fast. Despite not cutting strange triangle identifiers out of their ears, each piglet is born incredibly unique and we just identify it by its natural markings. Despite not injecting Iron, our piglets figured out how to eat grass and dirt on their second day of life and therefore are not iron deficient. They are just happy pigs, nursing and rooting, biting my gloves and squealing at their mom. If you firmly believe that some of these special mutilations imparts a special benefit or flavor, well that pork is available at Safeway for 2$ a lb. I am not in that business, this is a different product entirely. Before I get too proud, some of the things that didn’t work out: Farrowing on pasture - I just have too many predators and can’t pull it off at this time. Farrowing as a group – I just can’t do this until I live onsite and can monitor closer. That is all for now if I am going to get up in the morning. Be sure to check out the recent issue of PCC's Sound Consumer &lt;a href="http://www.pccnaturalmarkets.com/sc/1004/sc1004-farmlandtrust.html"&gt;http://www.pccnaturalmarkets.com/sc/1004/sc1004-farmlandtrust.html&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-1048486726675950558?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/1048486726675950558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/03/spring-has-sprung.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/1048486726675950558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/1048486726675950558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/03/spring-has-sprung.html' title='Spring has sprung...'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7Genl8gAtI/AAAAAAAAACw/M2OYXwhAY04/s72-c/sillys+litter+019.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-5629132350364130930</id><published>2010-02-20T21:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-20T22:25:04.322-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding Bells!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S4DRuU86nNI/AAAAAAAAACo/JEbO_PWyHVU/s1600-h/DSCF0811.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440578943691955410" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S4DRuU86nNI/AAAAAAAAACo/JEbO_PWyHVU/s400/DSCF0811.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally introduced &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S4DGcy6FMvI/AAAAAAAAACg/l9NCR25z4TQ/s1600-h/DSCF0811.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sassy, Peanut (our new Chinese &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;landrace&lt;/span&gt; pigs) and Kid Pig to each other. It went very smoothly (for once!). I think the combined qualities of these two breeds will make the ultimate homestead pig for our region. They seem very happy together at the moment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-5629132350364130930?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/5629132350364130930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/02/wedding-bells.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/5629132350364130930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/5629132350364130930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/02/wedding-bells.html' title='Wedding Bells!'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S4DRuU86nNI/AAAAAAAAACo/JEbO_PWyHVU/s72-c/DSCF0811.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-8089098342111204737</id><published>2010-02-12T00:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T00:35:56.464-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flatulence fence, rocket pigs, and three ways to eat sod.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S3UQ_i1EntI/AAAAAAAAACY/VAjTZzFhu60/s1600-h/grass+pigs+018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437270808986951378" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S3UQ_i1EntI/AAAAAAAAACY/VAjTZzFhu60/s400/grass+pigs+018.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since the last episode I have been trying to get a larger boar on site as sort of a peace offering to the sows… “occasionally I will slide a male under the fence, and you will not hurt me or the other villagers”. I have come very close a couple of times to achieving this, but every time some wily mishap seems to occur here at Crying Rock. I have decided to call it meant to be for now. I resolved not to rush the big boar, rather focusing on containment and survival. For step one we set up a hot wire across the pen where the girls keep busting through to Kid Pig. I reassured them while hanging the fence that my bright smile was not out of delight in revenge, rather in appreciation of everyone’s &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;new found&lt;/span&gt; security. Now I figured they would learn right away, but the manner in which they did was quite surprising and brought out my inner 7&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grader. I am boiling with curiosity as Hamster goes to test the wall…I hear a ”pop” as Hamster jumps and does a 180, lets out a…&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;weeee&lt;/span&gt;, then farts. Never touches the wall again. Here comes Gerbil, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ahh&lt;/span&gt; she has broken this wall more times than a Mongol in China, no problem for her. Here she goes…”pop” jumps and does a 180, lets out a…&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;weeee&lt;/span&gt;, then farts. After moving away a good distance she turned around and just stared at it in disbelief. One time for Gerbil. Here comes Tiger Pig, no exception… pop” jumps and does a 180, lets out a…&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;weeee&lt;/span&gt;, then farts. Tiger Pig like me has little faith and has to learn the hard way multiple times, well just two times for Tiger. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Patata&lt;/span&gt;, once and so on and so on, all the girls are fence trained. Well looks like Farmer Joel will be farming from a hammock with this &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;new found&lt;/span&gt; technology, until…a giant dual prop helicopter thunders over head. The pigs must of thought it was Y2K or WW3 because they went ludicrous. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Patata&lt;/span&gt; stood up on my 2x4 reinforced steel post field fence placing all her weight forward. Now I have seen this before because she did it yesterday to get to the feed before everyone else. She did manage to push the fence down, but this time I managed to push her back (barely) and get the board nailed back in, before she got all the way out. To continue on the theme of me learning the hard way multiple times, I resolved that was just enough times for me to learn. I exclaimed to all pigs present “that’s it - your getting a wire across the top!”, as if I was super nanny and they understood English. Well, the wire across the top of the fence does not have me farming from a hammock, but it does make feeding time much more civilized. Everyone recognized that little orange wire and stood very clear. With all this building up and breaking down, I finally came up with a good system. I build panels out of Plywood, or livestock panel, frame them with 2x4, and put chains on all four corners. This allows me to quickly put up walls and move them around almost as quickly as they can be bowled down. To make them a little more lasting I put a hot wire alongside it. Works like a dream. In all of this whoop-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;doo&lt;/span&gt; I had a realization. As eager as those girls were to get at Kid Pig, he really wanted to hang out with them too. I believe if he had a pair of stilts the day everyone escaped may have turned out different. So not only do I need to get a big boar, I need to get a little sow. I swear when I jumped into this I thought I would be dealing simply with the simpler things of life, but to honor the continuing theme - I do tend to learn the hard way. So I did some research and found a small Chinese breed. I did some looking and found two of them only three hours away. Quick Kid Pig, put on your best sweater and wash your face, I’ll be back in 7 hours! I loaded up Teresa and the kids into the green beast and drove to the edge of the Earth. You may not know this but the edge of the Earth is exactly two tanks away. At the end of it there is no drop off into infinity, rather a ridiculously steep gravel road the width of one car. I had to switch into low 1 just to climb it, Teresa was literally covering her eyes. We could not believe there could possibly be people and pigs at the top of this hill, so twice on the way up we called to be sure we were in the right middle of nowhere. Sure enough there were people and pigs, so we tossed our coke bottle over the edge, loaded the pigs, and headed home. The kids decided to name the bigger of the little sows “Sassy”, in honor of the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Mulefoot&lt;/span&gt; we lost on the way back from &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Bellingham&lt;/span&gt;. The little one acquired the name “Peanut”, I can’t remember how she got it, but she sure does look like one. These girls &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;couldn&lt;/span&gt;’t come a moment too soon. Kid Pig is so social and sometimes it is hard to get work done cause he wants to hang out all the time. This morning when I pulled up, he shot out of his den like a bottle rocket emitting a trail of hay. When I came in his pen he just laid down on his side (meaning stop what you are doing and rub my belly). Who have I become farmer Joel introspectively asks himself as he starts the morning scratching pig bellies. Short story long – Sassy and Peanut are penned up eating organic mash, DE, Kelp, and pieces of Crying Rock sod. It is interesting to see that they eat a clump of sod the same way the other girls do having genes from across the globe and having been raised in relative confinement. They pick some grass. Then they flip it over and eat some soil. Then they tear it apart and snack on some roots. Tomorrow they will be released into Kid Pig's old bachelor pad. Kid Pig will be in the new bachelor pad one fence away. The idea is that I will keep them separated for one more week. Knowing that kid pig has been shown by the best how to decimate one of my best fences, it may be more like a day. In that case we will let nature take its accelerated course. I don’t know if I nor my measly pitch fork can stand yet again between two pigs with stars in their eyes. Besides they are the same size which in pig law is legally married. One last thing before I pass out. Today was a major milestone. The girls are in their first pasture (not counting the one they escaped into for a day). Our intention was always to be a pasture operation, and it has taken from when we started in December until now to make that happen, I almost died 1000 times. It was beautiful to see them rushing around with clumps of grass in their mouth, eating blackberry brush, and rooting under the sod. Hamster had some grass straws stuck on her nose like a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;kung&lt;/span&gt; foo master's mustache. I now have until they till that down to get their next paddock built, I am guessing two weeks – but we will see. As soon as they till it up I will plant yellow peas behind them for the next time they come through this paddock. These will grow with the existing pasture &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;polyculture&lt;/span&gt; of sod grasses, clumping grasses, clover, blackberries, dandelions, plantain and who knows what.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-8089098342111204737?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/8089098342111204737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/02/flatulence-fence-rocket-pigs-and-three.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/8089098342111204737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/8089098342111204737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/02/flatulence-fence-rocket-pigs-and-three.html' title='Flatulence fence, rocket pigs, and three ways to eat sod.'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S3UQ_i1EntI/AAAAAAAAACY/VAjTZzFhu60/s72-c/grass+pigs+018.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-8644542141187001797</id><published>2010-01-30T15:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T17:01:11.207-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Furry maniacal bulldozers, new piglets, and El Niño</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S2TWOnEn7CI/AAAAAAAAACQ/F00R2LAOXcM/s1600-h/phone+024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432702597010549794" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S2TWOnEn7CI/AAAAAAAAACQ/F00R2LAOXcM/s320/phone+024.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Things are moving really fast these days. With the warm winter we are having, my hops started shooting up about a week ago. Likewise for roses, irises, camellias, and rhubarb. It seems like everything just went dormant, and now it is here already. Teresa had managed to throw her back out really good and had been laid up. Also some nice fellow stole our insurance settlement out of our mailbox, so we have been pretty busy on the home front let alone pedaling the farm along. I think the piggies sensed our vulnerability and figured this was the time to stage their revolution. The neighbor’s alpaca escaped into our barnyard and told the girls of his freewheeling lifestyle. I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t know the girls speak alpaca, but they understood fully and two of them decided to join him. When I showed up, I was quite surprised to see them wandering around the barnyard. I fed the well behaved ones to keep them focused while I opened the gate to get the misbehaving ones in. I was able to get &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Patata&lt;/span&gt;, one of our Blue-Butt sows to follow me in with a bucket of feed, but Gerbil was not so easily convinced. She wandered into the barn and planted her face firmly in the bag of winter reserve feed. I closed the cow gate behind her while I devised a plan to get her back in the pen. I built a cache pen to keep the other pigs back while I opened the gate for Gerbil. Then I had to build a corridor from the barn to the pen. I strung up two strands of barbed wire on each side, parked a car on one side, and the green beast on the other, then filled in all the gaps with old boards, bales of alfalfa, and children’s bicycles. It is funny, I can remember fixing old &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Volkswagens&lt;/span&gt; in the same manner. This was four hours later to complete. I opened the pen gate and went to get Gerbil, she had her face planted in the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Diatomaceous&lt;/span&gt; earth. When she looked up her face was covered in pure white (it looked like a scene out of Scarface). I went behind her to nudge her along, but she needed no nudging she went right into the pen. I reinforced the iron gate with tighter chains and strung barbed wire in front of it. I estimate &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Gerbil&lt;/span&gt; ate about 14 pounds of kelp, 5 pounds of DE, and however much grain a girl can inhale in 4 hours. I was surprised to find the next day that my reinforced gate was child’s play to the pigs, they bent it like butter and I found four of them with their face in the winter feed, and two in front of Kid Pig’s pen giving him a graphic example of the birds and the bees. I dumped some feed in the pen and most followed into the pen. I Still had my wire runs handy from yesterday and strung them up again (just one each this time, and no bikes). It took a little prodding but finally they both went right in the pen. I restrung the barb wire barrier, put beefier chains, attached a heavy gauge galvanized panel, and then parked the green beast in front of it. I was tempted to say “let’s see you get through that”, but I know better. At this point I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;wouldn&lt;/span&gt;’t be surprised to see them driving down the road in the same truck cruising for dudes. I wish I could say it ends there, but the next day….I pull up and find 6 of the girls frolicking in the middle paddock with kid pig. They had bulldozed through the side panel barbed wire like a marathon finish line, and broke down kid pig’s fence and busted him out. Poor young Kid pig thought he was going to his first junior high dance, but quickly found himself in the evil den of domination. Keep in mind kid pig is about 50 pounds and these girls are 350-500 or so. At first they flirted and kissed noses, but then they started getting real aggressive, biting and sitting on him. This would have been &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; to manage if a litter of piglets &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t just start dropping. Gerbil threw Kid Pig in the air and bit him, and two of the other girls were trying to mount him, I literally had to get between him and two of them with a measly pitch fork. I lifted up his fence for him to run to safety, but he &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t seem to get it. After a couple hours of the battle royal cage match, I poured some feed into the girl’s pen and all but Gerbil went under the fence. Gerbil wanted to but she was too hesitant to go under the barbed wire again. I built another cache pen and cut the fence. She went in and I reinforced the fence behind them. They were literally going ballistic; they would look at kid pig and loose all sense of restraint and manners. They kept pushing through until I put up full sized sheets of plywood so he was out of sight. I reinforced the fence with hog panels, 2x4’s, and steel posts in addition to that. While all this was going on I was supposed to be back in Tacoma unloading a pallet of electric wire fence, which I hope will soon make issues like this fewer. The driver fortunately unloaded without me, after having a good laugh at my expense when Teresa explained why I could not be there. Kid pig was exhausted, and so was I. We laid down in the middle paddock and rested. I gave him a good scratch, and he told me he was thinking about becoming a priest. That was short lived however, as he went over to the girls pen raising ruckus again. I led him back into his pen with food, and mended his fence. He is too charming for his own safety. I had a similar experience building the farrowing pen in the middle of all these girls, but that is another story. On a positive note – the half day the handful of pigs were in the middle paddock, they tilled it up about 50%. They are going to be excellent tractors. I will try to get pictures of the piglets up soon – right now I can’t find the adapter to upload.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-8644542141187001797?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/8644542141187001797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/01/furry-maniacal-bulldozers-new-piglets.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/8644542141187001797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/8644542141187001797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/01/furry-maniacal-bulldozers-new-piglets.html' title='Furry maniacal bulldozers, new piglets, and El Niño'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S2TWOnEn7CI/AAAAAAAAACQ/F00R2LAOXcM/s72-c/phone+024.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-5946407263146186881</id><published>2010-01-09T21:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T23:01:27.770-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rising rivers, quick sand, metric ton spillage, and home brew...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S0l7QcUeODI/AAAAAAAAACI/6-NTOSjDJgk/s1600-h/DSCF0684.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425002748554655794" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S0l7QcUeODI/AAAAAAAAACI/6-NTOSjDJgk/s320/DSCF0684.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It has been a little bit since I have posted and I am now sifting through the drama and slap stick that occur in a 5 day stint on our shiny acre. First of all driving in you can't help but notice the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Puyallup&lt;/span&gt; River is bloated more each day. This sparked a small fear in me, causing me to take a stroll to the old creek in the sticks out back. Happy day, the creek is behaving! It is pretty much the same as it has looked every time before. Speaking with some of the neighbors, they say it has never flooded as long as they have been here. "(Hear) Sigh of relief". I did some early spring cleaning in the barn to make way for the 2,205lbs of organic feed about to be delivered by some friendly Canadians. Unfortunately the bag spilled over in the truck and we could not move it. You don't realize how big a ton is until you have to try to think of a plan b to move it. The poor truck driver asked me if I have a tractor. I just pointed over at my 14 porcine tractors, all of which would love to assist, and could indeed move it (rendering it into a ton of fertilizer) - but it would take them at least 14 days, and everyone needed to get home for supper. The driver decided to go to his next stop and see if there was a tractor there, after which he would come back for our delivery. He took off and I trotted over to the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;faucet&lt;/span&gt; to hook up my "now unfrozen" hose for some easy watering with no bucket carrying involved. Stop there... now my new hose connector is completely flat. How I managed to drive over it when it was hanging on the wall I will never know. Possibly the pigs are playing a trick on me like some nightmarish &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Farside&lt;/span&gt; comic come to life. So Joel carries water buckets for a living after all. Now I could have worked that self pity all day if the feed guy didn't come back around 3pm limping! No, his next stop did not have a tractor, but they did have an empty grain bag that he could shovel it by hand into, so as to get it out of the way, freeing up his electric pallet jack. This poor poor soul, I will straiten up and not tell him I had to carry water. I offered him the one beer I keep in the medicine cabinet, of which he refused. In Canadian culture when you refuse a beer, you are legally deceased. Speaking of beer, I finally met the folks farming next door. They will &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;also&lt;/span&gt; be in hops this spring, and are also avid brewers. As a welcome to the neighborhood they gave me a fresh growler of chilly wonder! It was a rich dark malty porter with a generous &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hopiness&lt;/span&gt;. If there is a "chicken soup for the beer appreciators soul" on the shelf at Border's, it probably has that story in it. Come Saturday, after our weekly pancake ritual, I packed the whole clan up - all clad in rubber boots (the ancient weapon on our family crest), and headed to the farm. It was the first Sunny day since we have been operating here, and it was absolutely gorgeous. The kids helped feed and water then ran off to play. Not a moment later I hear this wailing of the sort you can't make out if its joking or real. I look over and Jude is stuck in the mud where they just filled in the well work. I go over there and he is sunk up to his knees and balling -sure that this is his muddy end! I go in to pull him out and I sink up to my knees (Bear &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Grylls&lt;/span&gt; don't fail me now). I pull him out (minus boots) and he goes swishing in his socks back to mom. I managed to wriggle out (barely convincing Daniel not to come rescue me), ran and got my sorting boards (glorified plywood with handle holes) and &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;placed&lt;/span&gt; them across the mud in time to rescue the little boots that were quickly sinking to China. Thank God today was the day I was able to achieve connection of a functional hose to a functional &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;faucet&lt;/span&gt;, and wash away our muddy memories. Later Jude quietly asked me, "dad how did you get so strong to pull a kid out of the mud?" I told him "carrying buckets of water son". I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; really tell him that... I am a nerd but not that much so. Over all, it was a great week. Me and my brother built the fence training pen, all our &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;ingredients&lt;/span&gt; for the sow's detox came in, and this strange life seems satisfying and enjoyable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-5946407263146186881?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/5946407263146186881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/01/rising-rivers-quick-sand-metric-ton.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/5946407263146186881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/5946407263146186881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/01/rising-rivers-quick-sand-metric-ton.html' title='Rising rivers, quick sand, metric ton spillage, and home brew...'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S0l7QcUeODI/AAAAAAAAACI/6-NTOSjDJgk/s72-c/DSCF0684.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-8450042498431889539</id><published>2010-01-05T19:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T22:16:44.712-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hay Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S0QDtx5e70I/AAAAAAAAACA/aXTaTz5jOQY/s1600-h/DSCF0693.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423463936284356418" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S0QDtx5e70I/AAAAAAAAACA/aXTaTz5jOQY/s320/DSCF0693.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not a hay expert, but many animals appear to be. Today I placed about 10 bales of straw bedding around the sows to dry things up a bit. They immediately started flipping out, tossing it around, and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;voraciously&lt;/span&gt; devouring it. For a while they all had green\yellow Santa Claus beards as they carried around flakes of the stuff. They ate themselves into a food coma and passed out in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; own plate (see picture). It was hilarious. What is strange is this was straw bedding. I have purchased "quality" alfalfa for four times as much, and they did not turn into hammerhead &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;land sharks&lt;/span&gt;. Goes to show that there is a science to grass, and animals can tell (whether they know it or not), if it was grown in a manner that is good for them. Next time I buy hay, I may take one of the pigs with me just to be sure I get what I am intending to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-8450042498431889539?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/8450042498431889539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/01/hay-day.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/8450042498431889539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/8450042498431889539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/01/hay-day.html' title='Hay Day'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S0QDtx5e70I/AAAAAAAAACA/aXTaTz5jOQY/s72-c/DSCF0693.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-7542875078599921552</id><published>2010-01-02T21:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T21:40:21.068-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tomatillos going and piglets coming...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S0AsHvNI9-I/AAAAAAAAAB4/HxGJ9D3EV90/s1600-h/DSCF0681.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422382462796363746" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S0AsHvNI9-I/AAAAAAAAAB4/HxGJ9D3EV90/s320/DSCF0681.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This morning while strolling through what is left of our warm season garden space, I was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;intrigued&lt;/span&gt; by the small lace globes filled with seeds scattered on the ground. These are the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tomatillos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; that did not make it into our salsa. This was our first year growing (and eating) these, so this was an interesting surprise. Meanwhile, back at the farm while tending to the girls, I noticed two of the sows seemed to be getting milk, meaning piglets around the corner! Another highlight was finding out that Kid-pig is a morning glory &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;assassin&lt;/span&gt;! He pulls up the roots and shows no mercy, good boy Kid-pig. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-7542875078599921552?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/7542875078599921552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/01/tomatillos-going-and-piglets-coming.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/7542875078599921552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/7542875078599921552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2010/01/tomatillos-going-and-piglets-coming.html' title='Tomatillos going and piglets coming...'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S0AsHvNI9-I/AAAAAAAAAB4/HxGJ9D3EV90/s72-c/DSCF0681.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-6687581653247172094</id><published>2009-12-30T19:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T20:19:12.845-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mulefoot has landed...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/SzwmOzXZjzI/AAAAAAAAABw/hVeUjHkfzwY/s1600-h/DSCF0665.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421250087195610930" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/SzwmOzXZjzI/AAAAAAAAABw/hVeUjHkfzwY/s320/DSCF0665.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we were telling the kids about the boar that was soon to arrive, my son Jude asked me "is he going to fall in love with a girl pig?". I said that he may be a little young now, but later will probably "fall in love". He then responded "so he is a kid pig?"... and the name kind of stuck. Kid Pig is a registered &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Mulefoot&lt;/span&gt; boar. This is very rare heritage breed from the states. There have been efforts in recent years to bring awareness of this breed, in order to create a market demand that will save it from extinction. Read about how these guys placed number one in a blind taste test against 7 other heritage breeds as well as the commercial piggies: &lt;a href="http://www.grit.com/daily-commute/Mulefoot-Pork-Wins-Blind-Taste-Test.aspx"&gt;http://www.grit.com/daily-commute/Mulefoot-Pork-Wins-Blind-Taste-Test.aspx&lt;/a&gt; . We are so happy with this little guy, but his reception was marked with sadness, as the sow we were bringing home with him was lost during transport. Kid pig is so docile and is more like the family puppy than anything else. He follows us around the farm asking for a scratch and company. I was very pleased upon getting him out of the truck that he refused the store feed, and went right to eating frozen pasture, blackberry bushes, and rooting around for who knows what. This industrious attitude as well as his thick fur and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;un-cloven&lt;/span&gt; hooves make him an excellent fit for our climate and farm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-6687581653247172094?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/6687581653247172094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/mulefoot-has-landed.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/6687581653247172094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/6687581653247172094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/mulefoot-has-landed.html' title='Mulefoot has landed...'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/SzwmOzXZjzI/AAAAAAAAABw/hVeUjHkfzwY/s72-c/DSCF0665.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-2469552927368570261</id><published>2009-12-25T13:54:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T18:44:22.657-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Christmas!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/SzV3cmRFBVI/AAAAAAAAABY/fgIBG9jr-Pk/s1600-h/farm2+563.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419369059802482002" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/SzV3cmRFBVI/AAAAAAAAABY/fgIBG9jr-Pk/s320/farm2+563.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The kids opened &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; presents (99% from grandmas) then we had our eggs and toast. I ran to the farm to check on the girls. It was after 10AM and most of them were still snoozing. When they got up out of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; berm that they dig to sleep in, it was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;steaming&lt;/span&gt; with heat. I guess when you give them enough space and let them be pigs, they figure out how to get by pretty good. I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; believe they ate all the extra alfalfa I gave them...&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;apparently&lt;/span&gt; it gave them cotton mouth as they emptied the extra trough of water I gave them as well. I hung up the hoses to drain but somehow they still froze solid and I had to go back to the bucket system. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Unfortunately&lt;/span&gt; I fenced in the hose bib yesterday thinking I was off the bucket system, I was able to fill the buckets cutting a small section of hose (that remained unfrozen). When carrying the water I managed to fill up the trough as well as my boot for a chilly little wake up :) . We noticed a while back three of the girls came in a little skinny - the supplier thought they were at the bottom of the pecking order and weren't allowed by the other sows to eat as much. When I saw that the skinny girls were chasing around some of the others who were more stout, I realized that they &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;aren't&lt;/span&gt; at the bottom of the pack, so was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;suspecting&lt;/span&gt; worms were making them skinny. Since they have been at crying rock I have been pouring the feed the length of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;receiving&lt;/span&gt; pen. This leaves no way for them to fight, and everyone gets a fair share. Well today I notices the skinniest one seemed to thicken up a little, you no longer see those &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;bony&lt;/span&gt; ribs. Maybe it was feed &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;after all&lt;/span&gt;. Regardless all of them should be doing very well with ample feed and the natural &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;wormer&lt;/span&gt; that will be starting soon. On the drive home down river road, I could see all of Mt &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Rainier&lt;/span&gt; clearly in my rear view, and the Olympics in the foreground -absolutely beautiful. Got home in time for lunch and building &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Lego&lt;/span&gt; Star Wars sets. Merry Christmas everyone!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-2469552927368570261?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/2469552927368570261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-chritmas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/2469552927368570261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/2469552927368570261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-chritmas.html' title='It&apos;s Christmas!'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/SzV3cmRFBVI/AAAAAAAAABY/fgIBG9jr-Pk/s72-c/farm2+563.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-8837166310846421567</id><published>2009-12-24T20:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T18:06:30.189-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 11 Farming: Christmas Eve Thursday 12.24.2009</title><content type='html'>Drove around looking for a feed store open on Christmas eve. Settled on Del's. Picked up enough supplies to get us through the Holiday week including new fencing pliers. This time of year the valley is often very foggy in the morning. As I pulled into the farm the fog lifted for a beautiful sunny morning while I fed and watered the girls, and finished the fencing around kid pig's &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;receiving&lt;/span&gt; corral. Gave the girls an extra half bale of alfalfa so they could have &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; own little Christmas party. I am having a real difficult time telling who is the dominant sow because they all are so bossy. I called it a day early to get ready for having the family over for the holiday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-8837166310846421567?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/8837166310846421567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-11-farming-christmas-eve-thursday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/8837166310846421567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/8837166310846421567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-11-farming-christmas-eve-thursday.html' title='Day 11 Farming: Christmas Eve Thursday 12.24.2009'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-1874706048387664481</id><published>2009-12-24T00:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T18:06:58.555-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 10 Farming: Wednesday 12.23.2009</title><content type='html'>Today farming meant me, Teresa, and the kids laying in a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;truck bed&lt;/span&gt; full of hay, having lunch together while the sun peaked out for a moment. Then after that &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;agrarian&lt;/span&gt; dream was over Teresa and I hung 15o feet of fencing. Watering today with a hose was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; much nicer than the bucket system, plus the sows really like to drink from the hose. This is how one of the girls got the name Slurpee. We have not named them all yet but we are getting there. Besides Slurpee, there is Silly, Gerbil, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Hamster&lt;/span&gt;, Sweetie Pie, Tiger Pig, and Kid Pig. I can't find my fencing pliers for the life of me. Chances are a 6 year old was using them to harvest blackberry bushes for Tiger Pig, and they are laying in the middle of a field only to become &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;archaeological&lt;/span&gt; fodder for some future generation. I tried to cut my fence with tin snips, I am too much of a sissy. Fence Pliers where are you? Oh - and Green Beast woke up from her hibernation today. My cousin Donny kindly pointed out the reserve fuel tank &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;selector&lt;/span&gt;, after which she fired right up. I am relieved and majorly blushing all in one little switch. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Tomorrow&lt;/span&gt; is Christmas Eve.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-1874706048387664481?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/1874706048387664481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-10-farming-wednesday-12232009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/1874706048387664481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/1874706048387664481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-10-farming-wednesday-12232009.html' title='Day 10 Farming: Wednesday 12.23.2009'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-6449959438853569510</id><published>2009-12-24T00:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T18:08:38.709-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 9 Farming: Tuesday 12.22.2009</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I picked up a livestock rack for the truck. This is in anticipation of bring home the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Mule foot&lt;/span&gt; hogs we purchased. Thankfully the Green Beast made it to Maple Valley and back without trouble. And now with a Red stock rack on the back, the Green Beast is even &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;beastlier&lt;/span&gt;. Today was an ice on the windshield morning. I headed out to the farm early and started fabricating a ramp to cross from a trailer to the livestock rack. The barn owl was there again to greet me (scare the crap out of me). The former owner of the farm came by and gave an update on the well (still not going to be working for a while), and was able to answer some of the mysteries of the property that I had recently run into. Finished the ramp just in time to hop on the road to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Bellevue&lt;/span&gt; to intercept the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Mule foot&lt;/span&gt; pair. Everything was great until... going down hwy 167 the Green Beast decided to go into hibernation. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;uuuuhg&lt;/span&gt;. pulled over to the side of the road and fiddled about trying to restart her until the battery was about dead. Called the tow truck, and broke the news to the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Mule foot&lt;/span&gt; folks. They agreed to keep them on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; farm until I get transport arranged. I hitched a ride with the tow truck back to the farm and while waiting for Teresa and the kids to come rescue me - I decided to clear out the brush away from the shed where the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Mule foots&lt;/span&gt; will stay... and low and behold under some brush was a fully functional hose bib right there in the shed! No more lugging 5 gallon buckets of water for this clown!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-6449959438853569510?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/6449959438853569510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-9-farming-tuesday-12222009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/6449959438853569510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/6449959438853569510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-9-farming-tuesday-12222009.html' title='Day 9 Farming: Tuesday 12.22.2009'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-2818063685273699902</id><published>2009-12-24T00:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T18:09:08.581-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 8 Farming: Monday 12.21.2009</title><content type='html'>This is officially week two of the farm! Started the day off on the computer, getting contacts for alfalfa, organic feeds, vets, etc. Got to the farm kind of late, around 9:50AM - found that the girls like to sleep in on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Christmas&lt;/span&gt; vacation. Fed and watered and then on the road for errands. Somewhere along the line I went to sleep a city boy and woke up a shaggy haired man who enjoys window shopping for &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;galvanized&lt;/span&gt; feed bins. I am sure there is a name for this condition - but don't tell me, I am enjoying it too much. Found &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;allot&lt;/span&gt; of resources in Sumner - Feed Store, Bank, Hardware etc... This place is actually pretty centralized and you don't have to go too far out of town for anything really, and that is a good thing. I realized something today - There is a hardware store with an espresso stand in front of it, and there is a hardware store with a freewill pot of coffee in the back. Guess which one has a selection more applicable to the local and better customer service? You guessed it - the coffee pot store. I believe this also applies to banks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-2818063685273699902?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/2818063685273699902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-8-farming-monday-12212009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/2818063685273699902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/2818063685273699902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-8-farming-monday-12212009.html' title='Day 8 Farming: Monday 12.21.2009'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-8641469231732089086</id><published>2009-12-23T23:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T18:09:22.403-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 7 Farming: Sunday 12.20.2009</title><content type='html'>Took it easy today. After Church, we and some friends headed out to the farm. Fed and watered the girls, mended some fence, re-reinforced the gate, and added some more ties to the fence posts. Closed up shop around 4PM. It's fun having the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;rug rats&lt;/span&gt; there swinging on gates and what not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-8641469231732089086?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/8641469231732089086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-7-farming-sunday-12202009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/8641469231732089086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/8641469231732089086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-7-farming-sunday-12202009.html' title='Day 7 Farming: Sunday 12.20.2009'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-2865277759979042156</id><published>2009-12-23T23:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T18:09:49.300-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 6 Farming: Saturday 12.19.2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/SzMbe0x17nI/AAAAAAAAABQ/fX-Rp9Xvc8Y/s1600-h/farm+546.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418704993034563186" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/SzMbe0x17nI/AAAAAAAAABQ/fX-Rp9Xvc8Y/s320/farm+546.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Picked up 60 fence posts before meeting some friends out at the farm. Bought a pitchfork as well and am feeling pretty agricultural about it. Tossed some alfalfa to the girls just to make it official. Reinforced the gate with some latches &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;salvaged&lt;/span&gt; on farm. The girls were leaning up against it and broke the latches I bought at the farm store. The girls think they are more petite than they really are and I just don't have the heart to tell them. The highlight of the day was sitting on a bail of alfalfa for a coffee break watching the rain and listening to the sound on the metal roof of the barn. After some other chores I was getting ready to call it a day around dinner time when an emergency erupted. One of the girls decided to scratch her rump on the front fence to take care of a hard to reach itch, well she must have made it look good because all 13 of her friends came rushing over to scratch &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; rumps on the fence as well, I had about 4000lbs of pork &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;pressing&lt;/span&gt; on my poor little fence, and I could see it bulging and crying out for mercy! I quickly grabbed my post driver and a the posts I was going to run fence with, and started pounding in posts like mad. Seems I caught it in time, the fence remains, and itches are relieved. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Sheesh&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-2865277759979042156?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/2865277759979042156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-6-farming-saturday-12192009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/2865277759979042156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/2865277759979042156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-6-farming-saturday-12192009.html' title='Day 6 Farming: Saturday 12.19.2009'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/SzMbe0x17nI/AAAAAAAAABQ/fX-Rp9Xvc8Y/s72-c/farm+546.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-7792154993088419837</id><published>2009-12-23T23:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T18:10:07.622-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 5 Farming: Friday 12.18.2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/SzMXZnrUcqI/AAAAAAAAABI/xToTw15DsgA/s1600-h/farm+537.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418700505571685026" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/SzMXZnrUcqI/AAAAAAAAABI/xToTw15DsgA/s320/farm+537.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Showed up a little later today, and found the girls still sleeping in at 9AM. One was still keeping watch, but it was a different one this time. To reward her team spirit, I handed her a hearty bag of kitchen scraps. The rest did not catch on until they heard me open a bag of feed. Carried 20 gallons of water from the house to the trough, and then ran home to meet the contractor who is bidding on repairing our broken pipe damaged apartment. Soon after Me and Jason headed up to Redmond to retrieve the Crying Rock flagship, known as "The Green Beast". It is a 1979 f150 spangled in not one but two shades of green! The truck even made it all the way home, and it felt good to drive. Picked up Teresa and the Kids and took a night visit to the Farm. I left the lights on for everyone to get a good look at the pigs, and apparently we were having such a good time that we looked long enough to drain the battery. The neighbors gave us a jump, and all the way home, dad got to explain how car batteries die, with Jude reassuring me that he would remind me never to leave the lights on. We got home just in time to finish the Christmas story in Luke, and pas out. I gazed out the window at "green beast" and felt relieved that I would never have to load to rolls of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Field&lt;/span&gt; fence into the trunk of my car again. Rest in peace little blue beast, long live Green Beast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-7792154993088419837?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/7792154993088419837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-5-farming-friday-12182009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/7792154993088419837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/7792154993088419837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-5-farming-friday-12182009.html' title='Day 5 Farming: Friday 12.18.2009'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/SzMXZnrUcqI/AAAAAAAAABI/xToTw15DsgA/s72-c/farm+537.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-5777663473371323063</id><published>2009-12-23T23:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T18:13:11.440-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 4 Farming: Thursday 12.17.2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/SzMTEfnSY7I/AAAAAAAAABA/FcIuI0tB-JU/s1600-h/farm+553.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418695744583525298" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/SzMTEfnSY7I/AAAAAAAAABA/FcIuI0tB-JU/s320/farm+553.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Started Early (6AM), wanted to catch the girls early in the morning and make sure everything was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;all right&lt;/span&gt;. To my surprise, they did not share my concern and chose to sleep in. They dug &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; shallow berms and snuggled up together in groups of three and four. The one sow I suspect to be a little older was standing &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;guard&lt;/span&gt; while the others dreamed of endless fields of clover. To reward her for her steadfast &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;diligence&lt;/span&gt; I handed her a pumpkin that she quickly crunched like an apple. At the sound, I saw a sleeping pig ear stand up at attention and soon the rest of the girls clumsily and sleepily jumped up letting me know that they too would like a pumpkin. I poured the rest of the squash along out, and they went nuts. Per Teresa's instructions, I informed the girls that the pumpkins are from "Mama". I figured out a system where I poured the feed all along the length of the fence. This way there is a ton of room and none of the girls can boss any others away from &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; fair share. By 10AM it was time to head up to Redmond to look at a truck. I had a feeling this was the one, it had an extended cab to squeeze kids and pigs and equipment into. Talked the seller down to 800$ which was all of my Microsoft stock plus 100$, so I am no longer a Microsoft &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hundredair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Gave cash for the title and will pick up the truck tomorrow after I convince someone to pool up there and drive my car back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-5777663473371323063?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/5777663473371323063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-4-farming-thursday-12172009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/5777663473371323063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/5777663473371323063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-4-farming-thursday-12172009.html' title='Day 4 Farming: Thursday 12.17.2009'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/SzMTEfnSY7I/AAAAAAAAABA/FcIuI0tB-JU/s72-c/farm+553.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-5014900796626566316</id><published>2009-12-23T22:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T18:13:39.588-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3 Farming: Wednesday 12.16.2009</title><content type='html'>I got up and headed over to the farm at 4am today to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;attempt&lt;/span&gt; to hang this fence before these hogs roll in from Lewis county. I really wanted to see the sunrise, and was watching out pretty close. Turns out I was watching the city slowly turn on its lights while the sun was rising on the hill in back of me. The old barn owl greeted me again today (i.e. scared the crap out of me). It started raining pretty hard, but it seems to be warm enough. Hung 300ft of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;field fencing&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;around&lt;/span&gt; the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;perimeter&lt;/span&gt; of the loafing shed and a small outside space. Gosh a roll of that stuff must weigh 200lbs! I felt pretty beat up, but it was a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;satisfying&lt;/span&gt; feeling to get it done just before the girls arrived. I ran to the feed store and got some feed and a water trough to hold us over. I found an old steel gate in some brambles just &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;behind&lt;/span&gt; the shed, I dug it out and fixed it to the shed, it fit perfect! Not a moment later the truck showed up with the sows. It was an intimidating sound, I thought it may actually be a trailer full of idling Harley &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Davidsons&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, but the driver assured me they were my pigs. He backed it up to the shed, and I watched 14 mammoth &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;chubbos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; queue up, pausing at the one foot drop as if they were looking off the high dive before spewing out into the shed. Immediately they commenced rooting and foraging finding all kinds of snacks in the ground that I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; even know were there. The bunch is much more diverse than I remembered. Two of the girls are a little skinny, gonna have to address that. Discovered that there is no electric to the well. Good thing it is a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;friggin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; monsoon, I just stuck buckets under the downspout and fed the girls rainwater.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-5014900796626566316?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/5014900796626566316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-3-farming-wednesday-12162009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/5014900796626566316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/5014900796626566316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-3-farming-wednesday-12162009.html' title='Day 3 Farming: Wednesday 12.16.2009'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-242750666345298648</id><published>2009-12-23T22:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T18:14:00.615-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2 Farming: Tuesday 12.15.2009</title><content type='html'>Today farming means sitting in front of a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Lowe's&lt;/span&gt; eating a tuna &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;sandwich&lt;/span&gt;. I am checking on field fence prices while waiting for a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;craigslister&lt;/span&gt; to meet me to see a flat bed that could potentially be the Crying Rock flagship. Come 5pm I am loading two rolls of fence into the coupe, that flatbed was like driving a submarine down the road. Now seeing my little car pop a wheelie with this fence in the back, makes me wonder if I should have got the flatbed anyway. Well no regrets, we got 14 sows coming early tomorrow, and I got to get this fence up before then.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-242750666345298648?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/242750666345298648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-2-farming-tuesday-12152009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/242750666345298648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/242750666345298648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-2-farming-tuesday-12152009.html' title='Day 2 Farming: Tuesday 12.15.2009'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5981047056544700161.post-6561530410225289231</id><published>2009-12-23T22:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T18:15:29.841-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1 Farming: Monday 12.14.2009</title><content type='html'>We purchased 14 sows with agreement to have delivered by a certain date, due to negotiations and delays with the property I have had to bump that date for several weeks now. The seller was getting frustrated and I was starting to wonder if I was going to loose the pigs and the $, and have to start over before I start...But today I we got the green light to start on the property. As soon as the title company opened up I ran over and picked up the keys to the property.&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I got there I walked the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;fence line&lt;/span&gt;, and viewed the pastures. Grass &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;appears&lt;/span&gt; to be mostly &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;rye grass&lt;/span&gt; and is 70-80% green. Never noticed before but there is a pretty healthy &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;dandelion&lt;/span&gt; population. This is good because the taproot goes down to the clay layer pulling up subsurface minerals that the grass does not, and the pigs will root them up for lunch all day. The trees on the hillside of the property dropped &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; fall leaves on a path about 25 ft wide down the backside of the property (creating another mineral belt). &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Snapped&lt;/span&gt; some pictures of field and creek, and paced off some future fence lines. I decided that the loafing shed is the proper place to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;receive&lt;/span&gt; the hogs before putting them out on pasture. I am glad for the delays in retrospect, since things are starting to thaw out now, it will be easier to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;receive&lt;/span&gt; the hogs. This place is gorgeous - what a miracle!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5981047056544700161-6561530410225289231?l=cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/feeds/6561530410225289231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-1-farming-monday-12142009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/6561530410225289231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5981047056544700161/posts/default/6561530410225289231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cryingrockfarms.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-1-farming-monday-12142009.html' title='Day 1 Farming: Monday 12.14.2009'/><author><name>Joel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17306789178999471032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VQ9pI4r3wpw/S7gGyyn0BMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/jm2JLztDKPw/S220/Gerbil%27s+litter+088.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
