Tag Archives: Barns

Putting a damper on things

This post is in honor of Howling Duck Ranch’s new friend Mitch, who is presently amidst the worst fires in Australian history!

You’ve been asking how the chickens are doing. You’ll be happy to hear that they are all doing fine! They are especially happy today now that the cold weather has broken finally and they are presently grubbing around the yard in search of tasty morsels. Some of them spent time laying in the sun today, the first we’ve had in ages. While I was taking a break from writing today and enjoying a warm lunch of vegetarian pasta, I looked out the window and spotted Pavarotti being groomed by one of his favourite gals and I thought, “Gee, Mitch would like to see this.” Unfortunately, by the time I got the camera ready, they’d completed the task of sorting out his plumage and were back lounging in the sun. Nonetheless, here is a photo for you; I hope it will help dampen the fires and clear away some smoke so you folks can breathe easier this weekend!

This is the rain we experienced last November-December 2008.

This is the rain we experienced last November-December 2008.

Chickens inside on a rainy day.

Chickens inside on a rainy day.Notice the blue tarp which I roll down over the roosts at night.

You will note that I’ve taken out the chicken roosts on the left hand side. I’m experimenting with one of Joel Salatin’s ideas of using deep bed litter and saving myself a lot of time in mucking out their house! So far, it is working really well. If you want to learn more, read Pasture Raised Poultry, by Joel Salatin at Polyface farms. Link to his website is in the blogroll, or click here to go directly to his list of publications.



Filed under Animal issues, Chickens, Ethical farming, How to..., Just for fun

Why I became a farmer

My Big Red Barn.
My ‘Big Red Barn’.

My passion for farming began at the age of five, when my dad took me to a farm in Langley. It was owned by a friend of his at work and we went for a barbeque. I don’t recall the dinner at all, or anything about the people on the farm. What I do recall is the cows, the big red barn stacked with hay, seeing for the first time a cow-pie and not knowing what it was, climbing into the loft of the big red barn and looking out over the pasture. I loved it all: the space, the smells, the sounds. I recall hounding my dad every now and then, “Please can we live on a farm daddy? Pleeeeeease.” Alas, my pleas went unnoticed and I grew up in the city. I never really felt at peace in the city. Now as an adult, I am giving myself the rural life I wanted as a child, and when my dad comes to visit he admires my creations (oh–and he also likes to fish). He even helps build things, including my very own big red barn.

So now I’m a farmer. A farmer with a big red barn. Actually, it is not really that big by barn standards but that is not important. What is important is that I have one. A red barn of one’s own. I don’t know why it is, but in my mind you’re not a farmer unless you have a big red barn.

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Filed under Food Sovereignty, Politics of Food