Monday, March 23, 2015

Meet The Farmers ~ In Love with Jerseys (Tammy)

Mayfield, my first Jersey


I had intended to end my portion of the meet the farmer series with last weeks post where I told about my years in Alaska and, how Mike and I later came to be a couple.  However, I realized the story would not be complete unless I included my journey with the Jersey cows.  Although my parents never owned cattle of their own, I think spending five years living in the middle of a cow pasture where the beef cattle literally rubbed their heads against my bedroom wall as I gazed at them through the windows from the  top bunk of my bed, must have made me feel as if I must always be among them.  It was also during those years on the farm that my dad went to work for a local dairy farmer, and listening to the stories he told of  cows with names and personalities, only encouraged me further. It was also during these formative years that I was introduced to a small, big eyed, gentle Jersey cow owned by a local veterinarian when we began to get raw milk for our table.  It was this little Jersey cow that sparked my love affair with the Jersey breed.

After Mike and I became a couple, much to his chagrin, I told him I wanted a Jersey family cow.  Loving me as he does, and always wanting me to be happy, he sighed and started helping me look for a family cow.  Mike was a third generation dairy farmer.  His grandfather, who was a Church of the Brethren lay preacher (without pay), started the dairy to support his family.  Then Mike's dad took over the dairy, and eventually he handed it over to Mike and his brother who operated it together for a while.  Eventually, Mike's brother sold out his portion of the dairy.  Mike held on for a while on his own but ended up selling his dairy cows just a couple years before he met me.  Mike knew well how hard it was to keep a dairy going.  It's a seven day a week job and EVERYTHING  esle that needs to be accomplished in a dairyy farmer's life has to be done BETWEEN MILKINGS.   In spite of knowing the commitment and time involved, Mike agreed to help me find a family cow.  I had one specification:  the cow had to be a Jersey.

When we began our search for a Jersey, it was more difficult than I had imagined.  At that time, there just were not a lot of family cow owners like there are now. ( It seems in recent years, owning a house cow has really become more common, or perhaps the internet has served to unite us in ways we didn't know in the past.)   Ten years ago, when I searched all the classifieds, there just were not any Jerseys  to be found.  I called every dairy I could find that was within a day's drive, and most of the farmers  just flat turned me down.  They didn't want to waste their time with someone looking for a "family cow" and they told me so.  The few cows I did find for sale were cross breeds.  When I did have a chance actually see  some registered Jerseys, I was shocked at their size.  They were much bigger than what I remembered the little cow from my youth that had provided our family with raw milk.

I began to broaden my search, looking further and further away from home.  I looked to the internet for leads and stumbled across a couple of web sites for Miniature Jerseys.  Immediately, I was drawn to the Miniatures because they reminded me so much of that little Jersey cow when I was a kid back in Missouri.  As I researched the Mini Jerseys, it became apparent to me that I would never be able to find one for sale without getting on a long waiting list and spending an extravagant amount of money.  (Today, you can find Mini Jersey breeders within driving distance of most folks.  Ten years ago, that wasn't so as they were more rare.)

Months passed and I couldn't find my cow.  Then my brother, who lives in Georgia, happened to see an advertisement from a petting zoo in the Atlanta area that had some older Miniature Jersey cows for sale.  Mike called and talked to the lady who owned them but there was no way he was going to pay her asking price.  These were older cows and while one was obviously Jersey, the other seemed very questionable.  She would not sell them separately and required that we buy the two cows and a bull as a group in order to get them.  Mike negotiated and negotiated until finally we were able to buy the group for a fair price.  These cows were six and seven years old and had never been milked.  They had simply been kept to produce calves.  The girls were getting older and the owner was replacing them with younger stock.

We prepared a place for the two girls and the bull and then drove to Georgia to pick them up.  I had a few months to let the girls warm up to me while waiting for them to calve.  We got them in the fall and in early spring, they calved.  That was when reality replaced the stars in my eyes.  I set out to milk by hand. Since Edy and Mayfield had never previously been milked, it turned out to be a real adventure ( and not necessarily of the pleasant kind).  Twice a day there were tears, yelling, cursing, bruises, cuts, and scrapes from the farmers.  It became apparent to me very quickly that I was not born with the ability to hand milk rapidly enough to satisfy either my dairy farmer husband or my two Jersey girls.  I was head over heals in love with my Jersey cows at this time,  but wondered if we would ever be able to train them to milk after their living so much of their lives without being handled.  As a testament to my husband's love, he did not give up, nor did he allow me to give up.  Together, we were able to break those two old girls to milk and within a couple of months, Mike bought me an old Surge bucket milker so that I didn't have to milk by hand.  (Now that I am more relaxed and have trained cows, I choose to milk by hand sometimes, but I still prefer to use my machine.)

Those two girls only served to wet my appetite for more and with their arrival came folks literally knocking at my door and asking me for raw milk.  At first, I refused but eventually I gave in to the demand and started a cow share program.  I never advertised and word of mouth grew the business until at one time I was milking 12 cows and providing 90 gallons of milk a week to my share members.

Those years were filled with lessons of which I never dreamed, joys I never imagined, more work than I can describe, and plenty of stress and tears.  The cows literally kept me "living" when my 18 year old son died unexpectedly and tragically and my bond with the bovine is something so deep that I find it difficult to convey to others.  I ended the share program just this past fall and sold the majority of my cows because life changes and often we need to adjust to those changes.  I am thankful for the Jerseys in my life, the years of the cow share program, and being able to enjoy the few Jersey girls I have now.




Thursday, March 19, 2015

Old Fashioned Sauerkraut (Reviewed and Updated September 23, 2022)




Sauerkraut evokes memories for me of visiting my dad's only living sister in her modest mountain home in North Georgia.  I would pull up to her table and be served a big dish of hand-chopped, crock-fermented cabbage. While visiting family at Lookout Mountain,  I eagerly anticipated not only eating kraut but also a jar or two of this delicious treat to take home with me.  As an adult, when I decided to try to replicate my aunt's delicious kraut, I asked her for instructions.  She told me how the cabbage must be chopped by hand, salted, pounded, weighed down under the brine, and left to ferment. My aunt has passed away now and each time I make kraut, I think of her. and the legacy of the strong women in my Appalachian ancestry.  

Sauerkraut is a fine German word that simply means "sour cabbage".  Cabbage is transformed into kraut by the magic of lactic acid used to ferment the cabbage.  Not only is kraut delicious, but it also provides a variety of health benefits. 

How To Make Sauerkraut:

Preparation:

I have fun making my kraut in an antique crock, but it's not necessary.  One can also make kraut in a glass gallon jar.  I like to make kraut in large quantities because it keeps so well.  When making kraut, you want to be sure to use only unchipped enamel or glass jars.  Wooden, glass, or enamel utensils should be used when making or dipping the kraut.  (No metal or stainless)

Fresh, organic cabbage is best for making kraut.


Getting Started:

You will need approximately five pounds of cabbage for a gallon container.   Measure out three Tablespoons of canning salt (salt that does not contain iodine) per five pounds of cabbage.  Shred your cabbage.  (While my dear Aunt swore that it must be chopped finely by hand, I admit that I don't have the time or patience and use my food processor for this task, especially since I tend to make five or six gallons per batch.)  

Making Kraut:

Layer your shredded cabbage by sprinkling a tablespoon of salt between each layer.  (Remember that you are using three tablespoons per five pounds of cabbage.)  You will want to end with salt sprinkled on top.

At this point, I have found that walking away and letting the salt begin to draw moisture from the cabbage is very helpful.  I usually return in about an hour and begin pounding the cabbage.  Once enough juice has been extracted from the cabbage, then you need to press the cabbage down beneath the surface of the brine.  It's very important that all of the cabbage be covered by the liquid.  You will then need to weigh the cabbage down to keep it submerged under the brine as it ferments.  When I am using my large crock, I place a plate on top of the cabbage and then put a gallon jar filled with water on top of the plate to hold it down.  I cover the whole crock with a flour cloth sack to keep it clean.

As the cabbage begins to ferment, scum will form on top.  Simply skim this off, keep the cabbage submerged, and allow it to ferment for 7 to 14 days.  Warmer temperatures will make the fermentation take place more quickly, although you don't want the temps to be higher than 70 degrees if possible.  The fermentation process will be slower at less than 70 degrees.

That's all there is to it!

Storing Kraut:

After your kraut has fermented, as long as you have a cool place to store it, you can actually leave your kraut in the crock (or glass jar)  and dip out what you need.  The kraut keeps well in a climate of 40-50 degrees.  I don't have a place cool enough to keep my sauerkraut year around, so I put it in quart jars and store it in the refrigerator.  I currently have some that I have kept for eight months in this manner and it's delicious!  Made and stored without heating, the kraut retains all its nutritional properties.

In the event you need to "can" your kraut, simmer for ten minutes, pack in sterilized canning jars, fill within 1/2 inch of the top, cover with brine and process for ten minutes in a hot water canner.  If you don't have enough brine, you can make more brine by diluting two tablespoons of salt in a quart of water.

Enjoy!





Monday, March 16, 2015

Meet The Farmer ~ Adult Years (Tammy)





If you have been following along with our meet the farmer series, you are aware that my earliest years were a child's dream as I began life on a small "homestead" back in the late sixties and early seventies.  Those early years instilled in me the basic desire to live as close to the land as possible.  In later childhood, more structure, discipline and hard work became the routine as my family moved to a farm and worked as hired hands for approximately five years.  My teen years proved to be difficult as I worked through typical teen hangups as well as some unique situations.  To complicate things,  the freedoms I had enjoyed as a younger child were taken from once we moved from the farm. A strict church and private school I attended discouraged young ladies from participating in activities that appeared too "masculine", and the the adults in my life felt they were helping me become more "ladylike" by prohibiting a lot of the activities that were so much a part of my being.  (My heart has always been outdoors and I have always been happiest with the animals.)  Those years when my time was limited from the woods and fields and from spending time with any animals (other than our dog), were very difficult years for me.  But, I survived them and did learn lessons that have helped me throughout my life.  

I left my home in Missouri as an 18 year old and never moved back.  I spent a year at a very strict private college in Florida after which I decided that the lifestyle of the church and school I had attended would never work for someone with a free spirit such as mine.  I then left for Alaska to visit my grandparents for the summer.  After spending a few months in Alaska, I knew I didn't want to leave.  I made my home there for the better part of 13 years.  During those years, I married a guy I had gone to school with as a teenager and we had two children just 16 months apart in age.  Those years in Alaska were truly wonderful years for me.  I was able to immerse myself in the great outdoors and feel my soul come alive once again after those years of feeling so constricted.  I tried to experience as many uniquely Alaskan adventures as possible.  We spent time in small cabins, grew gardens during the Alaskan summers, went trapping and hunting in the winters, fished,  cooked on an old wood cook stove, lived without running water and hauled our water from a spring even when 60 below zero outside.  It was here that I also worked for a while milking cows for a small, family owned dairy.   During those years, we played hard, worked hard and I loved hard.   But it wasn't enough.   Somewhere along the line (what I probably knew but wouldn't admit from the beginning), I found out that loving someone who is dishonest, unfaithful, and abusive just doesn't work.  After 17 years together (and moving during the last few years all over the United States from Alaska to Wyoming, Montana, Colorado, California and then Virginia) to try to make a relationship work that was destined to fail, we finally ended our marriage.  Those years in Alaska (and even the time we spent out west) gave me the opportunity to live a lifestyle that suited my personality and interests. Those years taught me that I could face extremes in nature as well as relationships and survive.

Probably the greatest gift my ex gave me was to move me to Virginia before our marriage officially ended.  (We actually moved to Virginia because his parents lived here, but I now know that God brought me to this state so that I could meet the man I have always loved, but didn't always know.)  By this time, I had two teenagers and the whole idea of dating was pretty scary to me.  Being lonely (and introverted by nature),  I decided that I would check out one of those online dating services.  While I knew that any site could be used by predators or dishonest/untrustworthy people, I picked a more conservative site that I thought might be a little safer.  I put my basic information on the site and left for work, only to have a panic attack later that morning about what I had done.  I went home immediately after work with the intention of pulling my information down from the site. There were a number of messages waiting for me when I logged in  from men who were "interested in getting to know me" and my curiosity got the best of me.  I looked at a few and then started to pull down my information when I noticed a message with a picture of a man with dark hair and eyes, and a smile that lit up his whole face.  I was instantly drawn to what I thought was transparency, honesty, and character in that photo.  I read his profile and found out that he was a farmer.  (Yep, he had me at "farmer".)  We began to talk but quickly moved it from the dating site to personal email.  I insisted that we write messages (because I hate talking on the phone).  I didn't realize at the time that Mike doesn't know how to type.  Everything he wrote was time consuming for him as he searched for the letters on the keyboard to type messages to me.  Finally, after a while, I gave in and told him that I would let him call me, but I wasn't doing any of the talking and he would have to make all of the conversation.  He called.  He talked.  I listened.  With time and patience, eventually I began to open up and respond by participating in the conversation.  (I will admit, at many times it has been difficult for Mike to pursue a relationship with me due to the walls I build to protect myself.)  I am thankful that he saw something in me that caused him to persistently seek a relationship when I was being difficult.  

Then came the point where he asked to meet me.  I was nervous and he knew it, so he offered to drive down and go to church with me.  I figured if he was willing to go to church with me, then I should be pretty safe at least while we were in a public place together, so I said "yes" to our first date.  The day Mike was to arrive, he called me just a few miles away and told me he would be there shortly.  I offhandedly asked him what he was driving and he responded with "a white Beamer" (BMW).  At this point,  I was convinced that he was not a farmer, because none of the farmers I knew drove a BMW.  I told him to turn around and go home.  (I really did!)   Mike calmly responded and politely said that he would turn around and go home if that's what I wanted him to do, but he had driven a long distance, and he really just wanted to meet me.  I still wasn't sure I could trust any man, but I agreed to go ahead and meet him.

As they say, the rest is history.  We have been together now for a little over ten years and married for nine of those years.  While neither of us is perfect and we sometimes struggle (just like all real couples), we have been blessed with a mutual love and respect for each other and as well as a mutual love and respect for farming.  Farming mirrors life in so many ways:  It's difficult and filled with sorrow, but each new sunrise brings with it hope for a better day.  There are disasters and tragedies that set the farmer back and sometimes even threaten to destroy him, but the belief that he will succeed keeps him putting one foot in front of the other.  As with the farm, so with each other, we just keep nurturing, loving, supporting and working toward our goals.  We gain new life and we lose lives unexpectedly. We laugh, we cry, we cuss, we pray, we sweat, we freeze, we work, we play, we hurt and we are filled with joy.   We are often misunderstood and sometimes even ridiculed for choosing this path. When farming is in your heart, it doesn't matter what path you take to get there, you will find yourself covered in dirt and manure and smiling at the sunset at day's end and you will get up and do it all over again tomorrow.  




Thursday, March 12, 2015

Banana Oatmeal Muffins

I'm pretty particular about my bread products.  I like something with texture in addition to flavor.  I made some muffins a few weeks back and while my family liked them, but I didn't care for them at all.  I then went in search of a recipe more to my liking, and decided I wanted something made with oats.  I found a recipe for Banana Oatmeal Muffins and while the family thought they were great, and I enjoyed the flavor and texture, they were too dry for me.  So, I adapted the recipe and came up with a delicious, moist, flavorful, textured muffin recipe using two raw milk dairy products (butter and yogurt) and farm, fresh eggs.  If you get a chance to try it, I hope you enjoy the muffins as much as we do. 



Banana Oatmeal Muffins (12 large servings)

2 cups flour
1 cup old fashioned oats
1 cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 1/2 cups bananas mashed
2 eggs
1/3 cup melted butter
1 cup of thick yogurt (Greek or homemade that has been strained)
1 teaspoon vanilla

Directions:

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.  In medium bowl stir together the dry ingredients.  In another bowl combine the mashed bananas, eggs, vanilla and butter.  Add the banana mixture to the dry flour mixture, stirring just until the dry ingredients are moist.  (Do Not Over Stir!) 



Grease muffin cups (I use coconut oil).  Spoon batter into the cups and bake for 15 to 18 minutes.  (Watch closely after about 12 minutes and remove when toothpick inserted comes out clean.)  Let cool in pan for ten minutes.  Remove from pan after ten minutes and let cool on wire rack.  Once cool, store in an airtight container.  Even better after they have rested overnight. 





Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Is "Little Man" a Dummy? ~ Tuesday Tutorial (Dummy Calf Syndrome)



Just nine days ago we had an average size (for a Mini Jersey) calf born when Dr. Stoneburner pulled him after his dam had a difficult time during delivery.  (You can read the details of that story here.)  Since his birth, I have had my hands full trying to keep him alive.  We have had a lot of calves born between the dairy and the beef herds, and I can honestly say I have never experienced one that was so difficult to get started.  Mike, who was born and raised on a third generation dairy farm and continued to run the family dairy until about 14 years ago, commented that anytime a calf has to be pulled, they frequently tend to have difficulties getting started (standing, nursing, etc).  This made me start thinking about an article I had read recently about "dummy foals".  The article was fascinating and I encourage you to read it for yourself (and I would love to hear feedback regarding either the animal aspect of the article or the autism research aspect of the article).  You can read the article Newborn Horse Syndrome Suggests Links to Childhood Autism at this link.

The article had piqued my interest as it had surfaced several times on Facebook and then a friend sent it to me again after "Little Man" was born.  I will admit, that I have been so busy between dealing with a downed cow and trying to keep the calf going, that I did little more than skim the article again.  However, after "Little Man" (as I named the calf) seemed to turn a corner yesterday in his health and development, I began to contemplate the situation further and do a little research.  Sure enough, not only does this situation occur in newborn horses (often called dummy foal syndrome) but it also occurs in newborn calves and is often referred to as dummy calf syndrome (also known as weak calf syndrome).  While there are a variety of things that can cause dummy calf/weak calf syndrome, one of the causes is dystocia (difficult birth).  There are a number of interesting articles available detailing this subject. The article I found most helpful since it was directly to the point affecting my calf, was published by Hoard's Dairyman and written by Dr. Jason E. Lombard D.V. M and Dr. Frank Gary D.V. M. entitled Dystocia Takes A Toll On Calves.   The article can be read at this link.   While I realize some of my Facebook readers who have been following along probably thought that I was over complicating things and worrying about a calf that was probably secretly nursing behind my back, I can assure you that having handled enough calves, I was very aware that this calf and this situation was not normal.

First of all, the dam never did progress to the pushing stage of labor.  Being very familiar with my cows, I realized that she had all the signs of being in a progressed, labor stage without the actual pushing.  Because her calving paralysis actually began before giving birth, I am assuming that this calf was pushing on some nerves that made it impossible for her to stand or even to push with her labor pains.  This is all supposition on my part, but regardless, the calf was born after a long labor and a complicated delivery.  It would be very easy to see how such a complicated delivery could lead to hypoxia (insufficient oxygen during the birthing process).
"Calves are born with low levels of oxygen and high levels of carbon dioxide in their blood. Even a normal delivery results in a phenomenon called “birth asphyxia,” which occurs when the blood supply from the umbilicus is cut off but the calf is not yet breathing.
After delivery, the calf must begin breathing by inflating the lungs and initiating gas exchange to raise the level of blood oxygen and lower the level of carbon dioxide. High blood levels of carbon dioxide result in respiratory acidosis and play a critical role in stimulating respiration.

During dystocia, a more pronounced asphyxia occurs and respiratory acidosis is more severe. In addition, the reduced oxygen content of the blood leads to anaerobic metabolism within tissues, resulting in a metabolic or lactic acidosis." ~ Hoard's Article
The next chain reaction in our difficulties with the bull calf was that he would not nurse.  Granted, he was not stimulated by his dam (who was down and couldn't rise to lick him dry).  We had dried him off with towels but I could not get him to suck.  Having had experience with orphaned newborn animals of various species, I knew it was critical to get him warm enough to take the initiative to nurse.  So, I carried him to our milk kitchen and turned the heat up to get him warm.  Even when warmed, I had to work and work with him to take the bottle.  He wouldn't open his mouth for it and he had a hard time sucking.  Eventually, I got the required amount of colostrum in him.  However, it was approximately 6 hours before he ever stood on his feet.  (Normally a calf stands within minutes of birth.)
The major clinical effect of acidosis is central nervous system depression, sometimes referred to as “weak calf syndrome” or “dummy calf syndrome.” This depression also results in reduced physical activity and might delay standing or prevent calves from standing at all. In addition, decreased physical activity and reduced shivering results in more heat loss and hypothermia. In this case, suckling and the consumption of colostrum may not occur. Or, if it does, calves may not efficiently absorb the immunoglobulins necessary to protect against disease. ~ Hoard's Article

Subsequent days with "Little Man" proved difficult.  He took absolutely no initiative to nurse on his own.  This was not a matter of him "sneaking" behind my back and then not being hungry when I would try to get him to nurse.  This was a confused, lethargic calf who seemed to lack the ability "get it together."  When I would try to get him to nurse his dam, he would just turn circles and could never get the sucking reflex to work properly when I did force him to latch on to his mother.  When I would give him a bottle, it was almost as difficult.  Never would he open his mouth to take the nipple, I would have to force the nipple in his mouth and then it would take him a little while to actually get the sucking reflex to work.  I also had to straddle him and put his back against a wall and hold his head up in the proper position to nurse.  Back breaking and frustrating for the farmer who simply wanted him to live.


  An article by the Washington State University Extension and WSU College of Veterinary Medicine states:

 Weak calf syndrome presents as a newborn calf that is weak, unable or slow to rise, stand or nurse. These calves often die within three days of birth. They may be also called “dummy calves” or “fading calves.” 

 A calf involved in a difficult birth undergoes more stress but also can become hypoxic (low oxygen levels) which can result in neonatal acidosis. Acidosis results in a weak calf and if not corrected, can result in death. Calves involved in dystocia may die soon after birth. If they do happen to suckle, they don’t absorb maternal antibodies from colostrum as well, making them more susceptible to scours and pneumonia later in life.
 

Another interesting theory regarding a comparative situation in horses known as "Dummy Foal Syndrome" is the one from the article by UC Davis:  Newborn Horses Give Clues to Autism:



In short, somewhere between the time a foal enters the birth canal and the moment it emerges from the womb, a biochemical “on switch” must be flicked that enables the foal to recognize the mare, nurse, and become mobile. Madigan and Aleman suspect that the physical pressure of the birthing process may be that important signal.
“We believe that the pressure of the birth canal during the second stage of labor, which is supposed to last 20 to 40 minutes, is an important signal that tells the foal to quit producing the sedative neurosteroids and ‘wake up,’ ” Madigan said.

The theory, he said, is supported by the fact that the maladjusted foal syndrome appears more frequently in horses that were delivered via cesarean section or experienced unusually rapid births. Perhaps those foals do not experience significant physical pressure to trigger the change in neurosteroids, Madigan
said.
It's not too difficult for me to recognize that "Little Man" has a classic case of "Dummy Calf Syndrome" brought on by his difficult birth. Now that I have had the time to research things, I have become aware just how lucky we are that he is still with us.  I know he's not completely "home free" yet as he is only a week old and still struggling to overcome, but I am greatly encouraged that he has begun nursing at will and that he is more energetic, acting more like a normal calf.  The "Dummy Calf" and "Dummy Foal" Syndrome are worth researching further so that the farmer or homesteader can be prepared in the event they are ever faced with a similar situation.  
Between 30 and 50 percent of all calvings require assistance, and approximately 1 out of 10 of these calves die at the time of birth due to dystocia or complications from a difficult calving. Calves that survive dystocia are still at greater risk of experiencing disease and death before weaning. ~ Hoard's Article
I sincerely hope that no one reading this ever has to experience what we have been experiencing for the last nine days with "Little Man" our Mini Jersey bull calf.  However, it's my desire to share our experience with the hope that someone will be better educated should they ever find themselves in a similar position.