Stories Inside Stories: Death, Birth, Transitions

I am thinking about changes and transitions-- about the unexpected and even the surprise within the expected. .. Thinking about life on the homestead and about life's bigger picture --about what went down out at Standing Rock this past week and about reversals to human and environmental protections that are jarring and significant. I am thinking about all of you, getting weary, and I'm sending you some love from the homestead. 

miss you Solita. . . 

Here in a week's span we lost a pig-- a friend-- so unexpectedly.  She was a great cuddler. Our friendliest farm buddy. In the early morning, before we realized she was gone, I woke in the dark, startled by a pig outside my window.  Rousing from deep sleep, I wondered why a pig was loose in the early cold.  Seeing nothing,  I drifted back to sleep. Later, finding her still soft body, and definitely no signs of loose pigs,   I guessed she just floated through to say goodbye,  on her way down her road, on her journey.


And yesterday, after being woken in the night by a pacing,  irritated goat-- I looked to the frozen ground- the coldest in Maine's ongoing vacation from winter,  and thought, of course they'll come today. And surely, they did. Shivery, we dried them and quickly cut up little sweaters to keep them cozy. Of course, life-school took over and the babes had no shortage of warm bodies to hold them until they steadied to this new world.

The death and birth within the few days are meaningful,  reflective of the little stories within bigger stories.  We are on a journey, as change makers and creators, as activists and builders-- and we are seeing setbacks; really awful setbacks-- for our clean and free water, for our wild places, for our citizens, for our democracy. 

And yet, the story isn't finished.  We are writing it still, and when it's ended, there's sure to have been struggle and tragedy but also a great uprising of inner strength,  transformation,  and a deepening, widening love that has found its power in its sadnesses. It won't be a story about that one time we took a stand, lost, and gave up. It will be a resilient story; a healing story. We will see to the birth of a new way-- it will come through the stresses of labor and into the cold dark,  but we will be ready,  waiting for ourselves.

Thanks to the Bangor Daily News for capturing the last picture of Solita alive (first photo, of Shawn feeding pigs-- Solita is the black and white Kune Kune)-- it was a nice surprise to see her looking well just last week, and to get that delivered to my inbox via friends yesterday. 

Read the full article here: 

https://bangordailynews.com/2017/02/27/homestead/happytown-road-community-brings-rural-mainers-together/

This little piggy

Homestead Update

The last week has snowed us in, measuring in feet, not inches. Only a couple weeks ago we had our first thaw of 2015, complete with rain, mud and then ice as it froze over again. The freezing rain came just as we said goodbye to our second January guests. Unexpected in the cold of winter, the pilgrimage of city-weary people needing to feel that vital spark from deep forests never stops awing me. Nature calls to us all.

As we said our goodbyes, the rain froze--and left us unsuspecting as we made our way to retrieve our youngest daughters from grandma's.  40 mph into the forest is not an experience anyone would want, but we walked away with only minor injuries, gratitude deeply felt.

On the homestead, we find ourselves falling ever more behind in projects already started and failing to get new, exciting, time-sensitive projects off the ground. Shawn is a steady sort of guy and has managed, even with the constant set-backs,  to finish a new chicken feeder. This enables us to use our barn more efficiently, as now goats and pigs can't get into the chicken grain but can still shelter together. He also did some rearranging of horse stalls, creating a small fresh air turnout attached to each stall. This takes the edge off tight routines for us while still ensuring happy, healthy horses.

We have also begun clearing a room in the barn loft for a potential apprentice. Still, finishing this room, as well as the airbnb cabin exterior ( See cabin interior here ),  decking on the main house (2yrs behind now), and the sugar shack--all still wait, long overdue. It does become stressful as projects pile, with new ones losing magic in the long waiting--pitted against finances and unforseen problems. Homesteading is not an easy path. Seasonal needs always take priority, no matter how long a project has waited. Now here comes firewood and sap,even as we continue to move snow and battling freezing water buckets,  followed quickly by starting seeds indoors, all with the threat of spring (which really we can't help but crave), with its tourists, planting, milking. Milking? Yes! 

Here are some specific updates:

Goats: Our two Lamancha does, acquired last spring, went into a few heat cycles before we managed to find them a sweet buck, just coming into his own. He is small, mostly Lamancha it appears, and really, VERY SWEET as far a Billy's go. He's here on a barter, so in trade, one of our new doelings (fingers crossed we don't get all bucklings) will go to his former owner after weaning. We will begin milking our does a bit after kidding and the new variety of dairy into our diet will be quite welcome. We had many guests ask about goat products last summer and will be looking forward to sharing!

The Meaties (Red-bro chicken broilers) have been disappearing 2x2, extra fattened by the long extension on their expected lives (normally they would have been gone by November). 

Kune Kune pigs: The two original pigs, Agnes and Gideon, are doing MUCH better this winter after a rough start last winter adapting to the cold. The transition to winter this year was very sudden and that was quite rough, however. Gideon even was angry enough about his different type of rations that he bit a chicken, twice, resulting in the quick deaths of said chickens. He responded quite well to severe reprimand and got his act together quickly. Shawn made quick use of the chickens. Sadly, Agnes and Gideon seem to have fallen out of love and we feel sad to say that we have come to believe that we were a bit "taken" as newbies when buying Agnes. Although we paid top dollar for her, expecting her to be able to produce regular, average litters-- she does neither and also does not mother well or engage with us nearly as well as all the other pigs. WE will be honest and find her a good retirement home, maybe at a petting zoo and try MUCH harder not to make so many newbie mistakes. About anything. The girls from Agnes' first litter, Solita and Luna, will likely be on the farm as pets. We have fallen madly in love with them and hope to share their good nature with our many homestead guests throughout the seasons. Gideon and Agnes did have one litter together, which produced three gorgeous boys. We still have two-- they are still for sale and would make really great breeding stock. 

Horses:  Belle and Beauty have become permanent fixtures, cheering us with their antics and mareish hysterics. We have a lot of work to do to make Beauty sound, as it has become clear that the founder she had upon her arrival nearly a year ago could not be healed by regular farrier visits or a solid, healthy diet.  We are looking into some mineral remediation as well as gelled booties to keep her comfortable. We keep hoping to help her become more sound to take advantage both of her amazing ride, but also of Belle's -- Belle won't leave her behind, so even if we just let Beauty tag along, her pain limits the length of the ride. 

Layers: The newest layers, the ones born on the farm last summer, are laying regularly now-- as we come to terms with letting some of our older layers go. There are a LOT of chickens in the barn and with layers not laying and meaties still hanging around, things are inefficient and pricey out there! Getting a handle on this is STILL at the top of the to do list. 

Honey Bees: No good news here. We keep trying, and the saying goes it's insanity when you keep trying to do the same thing expecting different results, but that little thing called HOPE keeps us resilient. . . The first two times we tried bees, we failed due to mice infestation. This time, it was failure to winterize. It was not something we can escape blame for. We just got behind. We worried about mice, but when Shawn tried to check he was stung so badly, especially on the face and he refused to check them for some time after that. And then it got unexpectedly cold. Fast. And that's how quick we lost them. It's a particularly hard blow to us because this hive was such an immense gift from creation --scroll down this blog and check the details of how they came to live with us last summer The Sweet Spot. 

Community: You may have read in (blog link here) that we have been working to get a new community center off the ground Bald Mountain Community Center. It's slow going with everyone kept so busy in ordinary, extraordinary lives. We have also been in a big fight against corporate wind. And the town officials who are inviting them in on false pretense. It's a hard battle because in many ways its 3 battles-- we battle to protect our families and environment against health and ecosystem damages, we battle the nearsightedness of money-minded, right-leaning working-class who haven't researched the deal enough to understand the corporate grabbing and loose-lipped promises won't bring about thicker wallets, and most difficult to change, the hopelessness of earth loving liberals who can't accept that big wind isn't an answer to the hot mess of destruction we find ourselves in. We are protecting, calling out bad form and bluffs, educating and all but begging others to care about our cause. A hard go when the news is full of pipelines, disease, beheading, economy woes and climate battles. If you, reading this, find yourselves confused about wind turbines, I urge you to research it more fully before assuming that it is a good direction for earth stewardship. Support small wind, solar advancements and better research for a sustainable future.

Homeschooling (unschooling):  Our approach, a sort of combo of unschooling and homeschooling, continues to amaze me. We have 2 self-motivated learners who manage 95% of their learning themselves. No lessons, no "teaching" in the classroom sense. Coming in from outdoors one morning, I opened the door to find one completely engaged in yoga poses while the other took a hand-drumming lesson on YouTube. The girls follow some loose guidelines that keep them focused each day. This has led to deepening Spanish skills, feverish reading, mastery of most countries in the world by location and shape, a good start on US geography, all sorts of history, biology, physics and (with less enthusiasm) the memorization of math facts and long multiplication/division.  We have been hugely impressed with our variation of the unschooling model, finding that it inspires a love of learning, self-motivation & self-knowledge. 

Adventures in Dying

 Dying-a fact of our farm existence. A fact of life, actually. A Buddhist discussion came across my browsing yesterday, and while I do not pretend to be a student of Buddhism, this teaching was pretty straightforward. To truly live, we must really contemplate death. I tried it out, telling a few trusted people-- hey, you know, we're all dying. They thought me morbid. But truly, in this teaching, the idea is to really let death sink in. What are we reaching, striving, hoping, fantasizing, creating? How important do we imagine our things, our legacy, our ideas? What truly will we take with us other than our karmic balance? I believe the teaching is pushing us to wake everyday and strip it to the bare bones. I think it is challenging us to walk in love, breathe in peace, and exhale oneness. It is pushing us to take a step back, imagining this as our last day and asking us, what is important? why are we here? who are you?

 

So meet our little teacher, Tiger. As alluded, the farm is full of death and also bursting with life. It is full of its cycles of renewal and decay, bursting and withering. The girls are used to this. The tragedy never escapes them. We do our best to live lightly, taking only what we perceive is needed. The tragedy is beautiful in that each time we are reminded that we still feel empathy and that the suffering of other beings, be it this tiny teacher, or be it a mighty oak, hurts us all.



 

We are slow learners. Maybe we are fast learners actually, but since we learn primarily by doing and not by books or being told, we have to experience a lot of mishaps. Its the hard way, but it is the way of us. We noticed Tiger was seeming tired. We are new to pigs. We observed. Then we noticed he wasn't nursing much. We tried to get him to nurse, but Momma refused. So we brought him in, got him some goat's milk and gave him a bottle. He ate it right up. We thought this a good sign and planned on watching him recover into being our cutie "pet" pig. 

When it became clear that he wasn't well enough to be in the barn, we took turns sleeping with him fireside. On the cement floor-- emphasizing that we really gave this our best go! Like an infant, he awoke throughout the night for food or just for attention. We were tired. After a few days, he wasn't improving much. I tried to listen more closely. I heard a thumping. A little wheezing. Enough info to ask Google some questions. The answers were not good. Pneumonia. We called the vet, knowing that we were fighting an uphill battle. 

The nearest vet who would see him was an hour and a half. By the time we got there his fever had spiked and the vet tried to be straightforward without being negative. We took our antibiotics, our baby, and prayed. He hung on a few more days. He never wanted to be out of our arms. The girls were having some Kindle time while holding him. I began having a feeling and I snagged him and began rocking him by the fire. I began to have my senses clear and I told the girls that I was having a feeling that it was almost time to say goodbye.

He began to gasp, and the girls and I laid hands on him, praying for his easy passage, as we sent him our love and goodbye. It was a new experience for us, being midwife to this slow death. This is the kind of death that leaves us broken, but whole all at once-- the kind of death that calls to our humanity and our care rather than to our adrenalin, our vengeance, or our shocked grief.

We can spend our lives collecting, searching, making, brooding. We can spend our lives wishing, waiting, hoping, hurting. Or we can spend our lives being, Being. In each moment, letting it wash us over and lead us to be more deeply present. Your teacher is inside, but sometimes there is a being outside of us who is a good match to reflect to us just exactly what we need in the moment. Thank you Tiger for being such a Love, such a Teacher.

Hey there Baby!

B A B I E S. . .

 

Agnes is a sweet girl. But we may have a piggy that beats a bit to her own rhythm.  We knew by talking to her previous farmer that she may be the type to be out foraging to the last minute. She may be the type to wait until the end before building her birthing nest. Well. We are getting to know her for sure! Our intuitions peaked the last few days; we watched her with hawk eyes. She became a bit more moody around her food. Gideon pestered her a bit more. She seemed a bit more needy/lovey. But no swelling, no nesting, no signs of giving up the acorn search.

Sunday we were exhausted from worrying into the night—we didn’t quite have the heated box finished. We were setting the alarm for every few hours to check her. Around noon on Sunday (the 27^th ) she decided to leave the yard to walk to the neighbors. (1/4 mile away down a long lonely road).  We shook our heads at her as the girls coaxed her home.

Sunday night about midnight the alarm sounded—I hadn’t slept still for worry that we’d miss the alarm. Ugh.  Shawn roused to check her, quickly coming back to say that one was out already and to hurry. I got into warm clothes, roused the girls, grabbed the wiping cloths and headed out into the cold. Shawn got the heat on and the girls came out to cuddle some life and warmth into the first born—Trouble.

 

Agnes then proceeded to begin to be agitated, started (!!!) building her nest, and continued building it for Two. More. Hours.  All the while little Trouble waited. We tried to get him a chance to nurse as she would briefly settle, but he seemed a bit ‘troubled’ by it all.

At 2am the babies started coming again. Trouble, a boy, was followed by Solita, then Luna, and then two more boys—Tiger and Leo (for Leopard).  Once they were all out, they all had a chance to nurse while we waited for the placentas. The girls were very helpful (Shawn was exhausted and disappeared around 1am). They kept the babies warm and safe while Mama was up and down and all around working through her labor.  Ella hit the couch around 2, but Maizey stayed until a bit after 3 to see the placentas come out. This part was a bit confusing. The placentas should be attached to each piggy, but since she was moving around so much they broke off. She instead delivered a large mass at the end. It will be interesting to see how the next delivery (hopefully in the early spring) will go.  We are still new to pigs and kune kunes, so we have a lot to learn. Learning through doing seems to be how we go, so hold on. . .

We have Kune Kunes!

Meet Agnes:

 

And Gidion:

 

Kune Kunes, originally from New Zealand (dna suggests they originated elsewhere, however), mean “fat and round”. That they are! With super friendly personalities and great foraging and grazing tendencies,  we are hoping they fill a niche here on the homestead. Agnes came to us bred, so any daughters she has will be able to breed with Gidion. We are hoping to build up a small herd for both selling as pets/breeders, and for meat. Agnes is due soon, so super cute baby pictures will be forthcoming! Also look for a link  or tab here at a future time for info on available pigs or meat.  Until then, write to us at mainefarmstore (at) gmail (dot) com  for more information.