Saturday 15 August 2009

New Arrivals


The family O'Brien has been smallholding now for over a decade, but until this past week we've avoided the tie of keeping a dairy animal. However the draw of a more complete self-sufficiency has overruled our desire for flexibility and freedom (which was very partial in any case what with pigs, sheep, poultry and bees as well as the dogs, cat and seedlings in the greenhouse). So into the fold we welcome Sepia and Sophie, two Golden Guernsey goats aged two and five years.
Sophie, the big girl, is in milk, if producing just a pint or so a day, but it's the third year since she last kidded, the end of a lengthy lactation. In a couple of months, as the leaves start to colour, both goats will be sent away for a holiday romance (we don't want a billy here thanks, to stink and spray us with pee), but with luck they'll return home contented with a sparkle in each eye, to result in two pairs of twins born next spring, and gallons of milk for cheese and yoghurt.
Goats are friendly, lively creatures, much more curious and intelligent than sheep or cattle. They make ideal playmates for children, always up for a game of hide-and-seek in the field by day, or a quiet cuddle whilst they meditatively chew the cud in their shed of an evening. I've milked Jersey cows by hand in the past, a herculean task since they produce such vast quantities, but with only two teats and a much smaller udder, a goat is a pleasure to milk out, not a chore. And much to the surprise of all our sceptical visitors, Sophie's milk, fresh today, chilled in the fridge, has proved indistinguishable from the bottle of cow's milk usually delivered to our doorstep.

Tuesday 11 August 2009

Bees and honey

The garden is humming with bees, bumbles of many different species, and of course our honeybees, gathering pollen for their brood and nectar to make into honey. Sunny June suited them well, and I had high hopes for a good honey harvest, but with the washout of July, my expectations are no longer great. Any day now I will take off some combs, perhaps tomorrow if it's fine so lots of bees are flying - the fewer in the hives to defend against my burglary, the better.

I prefer to err on the side of generosity as a beekeeper, leaving them plenty of their own stores for the winter, and mixing 10% honey back into the sugar syrup that I feed to replace the stolen booty. I also add a few drops of chamomile tea, a biodynamic technique, to aid their digestion of the refined white sugar (they cannot metabolise brown). This year for the first time the chamomile is homegrown, so I trust the tea will suit them especially well - and my family too, to soothe indigestion or calm troubled nerves.



Wildlife in the veg garden

The vegetable garden is in full production, the beds that held garlic, onions and shallots in the first half of the year now contain many varieties of salad leaves and roots that should feed us through next winter.

I've replanted the banks between the two veg terraces with herbs and bee-friendly flowers, and now they are in full flower and alive with flying insects and butterflies. I fear however that they are also harbouring my deadliest enemies, the slugs and snails, as once again a wet summer has ensured they are in plague proportions. Where are the frogs and toads I've tried so hard to attract, with a pond, plenty of cover and choice hibernation sites for overwintering? Next year I plan to raise an aquarium of tadpoles that I'll nurture right up to adulthood, only then releasing them into the garden - we'll see if that helps.