Squealer

Looking rather uncharacteristically mopey

Yep, I think you can see what just happened there.

I think they're telling each other secrets

Name: Squealer/Babe/Humper
Personality: Typically very calm and sweet. He'd sit and let you pet him for a long while, and he'd always be one of the first to come up to the fence when you stood by to watch them. I really enjoyed his company.

Squealer earned this name only recently when he started to make that classic pig squealing sound as he'd wander up to the food trough, or sometimes for no reason at all. When he was younger Tarrah would call him Babe because of his obvious resemblance. Humper? Well, when he was younger he was much pushier and would, well, try to have his way with the other pigs at times.

The End of the Pigs

Half our group of pigs are going to slaughter tomorrow morning. We had a little photo shoot with the pigs this evening in order to capture them in their piggy glory, to honour them one last time as the wonderful friends and beings they are, and so as to remember them in the years to come.

In the coming days I'll tell you as much as I can about each of our eight pigs and what they've meant to us here on the farm.

But for now, good night blessed pig friends, good night.

Potato Harvest

Well, I'll still leave you wondering about the other photos for now. But in the mean time, today Angie (first picture) came to visit and help harvest the last of the potatoes. (I grew half of the potatoes for Angie and her CSA.) It was a very productive day -- we harvested almost of half of the remaining potatoes, so there's just about 1/6 of the patch left. What a relief. It's so good to have the potatoes harvested because then it feels like they are a bit more secure -- I don't have to worry about any sort of mischief happening in the field.

Update

A season, a wedding, and now harvest. Lots to update you on, but in the mean time, here'r a few pictures to keep you wondering.

Turkey-eye view

In the fray whilst being fed grass:

Growed Up

Remember those little chickens I showed you a few weeks ago? They've grown up.


They've been moved out from the sunroom and into the paddock closest to the house. They live in so-called "chicken tractors" -- moveable shelters.


Twice a day we move the shelter onto a new patch of grass. If you look closely at the picture above you can see the flattened and well fertilised grass in the tractor's wake.

The chickens are growing up pretty fast -- they only usually take 6 weeks from hatching to being killed. I find it pretty disgusting how fast they grow, and how incapable (or unwilling) of moving they get. This is always what comes to mind when I think of them.

Anyhow, Tarrah's been looking to move their slaughter date up a week.

In other news, the turkeys and hens are doing just fine. Here'r are two of the hens in the foreground, and some of the turkeys in the background:


We just got a new batch of day-old chickens last week. I don't need to show you pictures. Just think "yellow" and "puff ball".

Beetle Harvest

okay, I forgot this great picture in my last post. When I went out to weed the potatoes last week, I noticed that there were several plants with colorado potato beetle on them. So I lashed an old stinky nalgeen bottle to my leg and covered the opening with a bit of a plastic bag with a small hole in it. That way, when I would bend down to pick up off the beetle I could just pop it into the container.

I suppose if I was more cruel (or less of a wuss -- your call) I'd have just squished them rather than collect them, but I figured the turkeys would get some nutrients from them. Turns out, turkeys aren't super keen on these beetles, though they did eventually eat them all.

With my ragged hair and unkempt beard, my longsleeve shirt with sunprotecting popped collar and torn armpit and torso, and this bottle strapped to my leg, Nathan described me as "one week away from a vagrant".