The KnSFarm Goat

I had a few people ask me what exactly am I striving for with my goats, and I also made a post on a new forum I've been frequenting, introducing my goats, when I realized: I've never fully explained my goals.

It may (or may not honestly) surprise people that I do not breed for an already established breed. I think this is becoming more clear as I have begun to branch out from just Nigerian Dwarf goats as I introduce different breeds and lines.

So what IS my ultimate goal in breeding? Because I'm not just breeding willy nilly, even if it seems that way!

What I am striving for is what I consider, the ultimate backyard goat. A goat who exhibits all of these qualities:

• Sturdiness
• Worm Resistance
• Hardiness
• EASY Keepers
  
• Good Hooves
• Small but not "Miniature"
• Well Formed, easily milked udders that stand up to milking each year
• The ability to milk out a reasonable amount each day for an extended period
• Easy to settle (get pregnant)
• Easy to kid
• Ability to RAISE those kids
• Easy to handle

So as you can see, that's quite a goal! Sure, there are breeds out there that have most of these qualities. Some goats might have them all. But so often when purebreds are bred "up" for show, they become more delicate in the race to have the best show goat. Certainly not everywhere and certainly not in every breed. But it happens.

I want to mold my herd into the "poor man's" dairy goat. If that makes any sense at all.

I set this goal with my herd queen in mind. She is the epitome of what I want in a goat. She rarely needs deworming, is never sick. She is a super easy keeper. She is not full sized, but is not on the small side either. She is "deep" and has a well attached easily milked udder that has held up VERY well through each kidding and through each milking cycle. She settles (gets pregnant) super easily, kids like it's no problem, and is a great mother. And she is highly intelligent, and very much MY girl. Despite coming to me wild as can be, she has become a highly affectionate and friendly goat. These are ALL the attributes I want to develop!

To continue working towards the goal, I have culled relentlessly through the years, only keeping goats that meet most of my criteria, and bringing in bucks that I feel can add what I am looking for.

Breeding to a meat buck this year was a calculated risk. I want to bring some heft into the smaller lines, without sacrificing the milk. I suppose in a year or so, if I produce any doelings that make the grade for keeping, I will find out.

To add more milk in, I also bred a few goats back to Blizzard, who exhibits some of the best milk lines I've seen in Nigerian Dwarves.

Surprisingly, the kidding I am looking forward to most is out of a doe that isn't even mine. Her name is June. She is out of my very own Hope and by Roadhouse, one of the best bucks I've leased throughout the years. She was bred to Blizzard and will be returning to our farm to kid. (Her owner is getting married around the same time!) I have been promised the first doeling out of her, so I can hardly wait to see if she settled, and what she will produce. A real powerhouse breeding. If there is more than one doeling, I may even have to purchase the others! And it would be pretty hard even to pass up a well formed buckling out of this combination.

I suppose we'll see what happens! Stay tuned . . . kids are expected March - April.

Awaken - Short "pilot" Fantasy Story

Awaken

by ~Epona142

A soft whicker broke through her drowsy consciousness. Opening her eyes, she took a moment to bring the wooden roof of her small shelter into focus.

A more impatient snort this time, and a smile quirked the corner of one side of her mouth and she sat up, pushing one hand through a tangled mess of dark hair. She rubbed her eyes, stretched, then lifted herself from the sleeping mat and pushed aside the deer hide covering the hut's entrance.

The golden creature standing outside ruffled his wings and nickered again in greeting. She smiled and touched his silken nose gently before returning to the hut and reappearing with a wooden vessel filled with wild grains.

Solid hooves approached and the nose was thrust into the grain. Contented chewing sounds filled the air. She set down the bowl and let him eat, running her fingers through his satin coat, before stepping back and looking at him in full.

He shifted on his four hooves, dished muzzle still buried in his feed. A thick white mane lay across each side of his neck and down onto his back, between the tightly folded and softly furred wings. Powerful hindquarters ended in a long, thin tail, tasseled with silken white hair at the end, much like a lion's, so unlike a true horse's.

But this wasn't a true horse. Born of a horse, born of magic, born of chance, but not a horse. The woman touched his golden palomino coat again and took a moment to remember that night once more.

It had to be her favorite mare of course. She had two horses on her little farm; a light mare for the chase (hunting), and a heavier draft mare for plowing. Two more horses than most farms had. Her hunting mare had managed to get loose one late spring night and had returned to the farm days later. Goodness only knows what kind of stallion she'd met up with, but she'd met with one sure enough, and that became obvious in late winter.

The foal came late at night, delivered in their sparse shelter, in raked dirt that she had taken the time to spread out. Straw was too expensive, this was the best the woman could offer.

It wasn't until the foal scrambled to its hooves before the woman realized that something was amiss. A shocked gasp slipped through her lips and her heart sunk as she saw the thin whip like tail, the fragile legs, and most importantly, the delicate wings held tightly to its sides. His sides; a bright golden colt. A winged colt.

No one knew why or how these winged horses were born. They could be born of any mare, any time. There was no rhyme or reason to it. They were rare, perhaps one or two born a year. Most simply considered it part of this land's magic.

The Empire considered them their property.

Any winged colts that were born ended up in the Empire's hands. The Empire granted the farm that produced one a year's break from the heavy strain of taxes. This marvelous gift meant that poorer farms handed them over quite gladly and without a fuss.

Rarely, a richer merchant would try to refuse to turn over their foal. Strangely, family members would begin to disappear, or have accidents. They were never proved to be connected, but everyone knew the Empire was behind it.

And always, soon enough, the winged foal would be "gifted" to the Empire.

The Empire always got what it wanted.

The woman's fingers worked through the tangles in the mane as she continues to think about the past.

She knew from the start that she would never give the colt up. Like many farmers, she was taxed to the extreme, in debt to the Empire indefinitely, never able to get out from under them. The break from taxes would have been a wonderful boon. But her anger went deeper; she remembered vividly her beloved husband's death. Killed in a war stirred up by the Empire in a conquest to gain control of even more land. A war fueled by the strength of the poor working man, for why should the Empire sacrifice their best soldiers when they can draft the farmers?

From that day forward, the woman bore a grudge against the Empire. To consign this golden colt to their clutches made her feel nauseated.

The Empire used the winged horses in their war-mongering. They were assigned riders, trained, and spent their lives enforcing the Empire's harsh laws. Most lost their short lives in some battle or other. A waste of a miracle.

No, this would not be the fate for her colt.

The woman hid him as long as she could; there were spies everywhere, even in your farm workers. Your friends, companions, the store owner in town, any of them could be a spy.

The winged horse lifted his satin muzzle and nudged the woman with great affection, interrupting her train of thought before she could reflect once more on their daring escape in the middle of a cold night.

She smiled and tucked his delicate head into her arms and kissed his forehead. Perhaps they would go for a ride this day. He needed the exercise. And perhaps, one day soon, he would be ready to spread those magnificent wings of his, and take to the sky, and take her with him...

- Want to read more about these characters? Comment and let me know!

Hoarding

I thought I'd explore a more . . . interesting topic today.

Recently, I was accused, perhaps not in so many words, of being a hoarder. I was told that I needed "professional help" and I was in "denial." It turned into rather a shitstorm, and I ended up losing a friend over it.

I have of course, moved past this and let go of any anger over the whole mess. I sit assured that I acted the best I could in the situation, and I cannot control another's actions.

The mess started all over Secret, the emaciated Welsh pony I agreed to take in. A bit silly in my mind. It also centered around posts that I made in previous months, when I was having a fairly bad time in my mind, worried about being able to find hay. Worried about the drought. I had developed a real fear of it destroying everything I worked for. I was afraid that I would NOT be able to find hay.

With the help of others and a lot of work, I solved each of these problems and I came out the other side of it stronger. Things balanced back out and I returned to my usual "rainbows and kittens" posts, because everything WAS okay again. I was never in any danger of being able to FEED my animals, as long as I could FIND the feed to buy.

However, a "friend" used these past posts against me, completely bypassing and ignoring all the posts in between then and now about how things had worked out. They insulted me, hurt my feelings, and pretty much made it clear what kind of a person they really are, when they ignored MY apologies for any perceived wrong doing and refused to apologize for their wrong doing.

So I sat and thought about hoarding for a while. I came to the conclusion that, if I am a hoarding, I think I'm pretty much a failure at it!

"Hoarding is the excessive collection of items, along with the inability to discard them. Hoarding often creates such cramped living conditions that homes may be filled to capacity, with only narrow pathways winding through stacks of clutter. Some people also collect animals, keeping dozens or hundreds of pets often in unsanitary conditions." - MayoClinic.com

Hoarding is not something I'm unfamiliar with. It actually runs in my family and I have often recognized the symptoms of it in myself. I have a family member who is what I call a "Hoarder Tri-fecta." She hoards items, animals, and people. And it has pretty much caused a ruin of everything she owns. Another family member hoards items.

So, am I a hoarder? According to that definition, I have to say a resounding, No!

My house is anything but cramped. I have a serious adversion to clutter. My house may be occasionally messy, with hay on the floor and a bit dusty, but it's not cramped or overfilled with stuff. There ARE certain areas that reflect it however. I have one closet neatly crammed full of things that "might" be useful, or I want to keep. I have a large shelf system FULL of model horses across from my bed that I like to look at.

But do I hoard animals? I don't think so. My pets and livestock are not in "cramped conditions." Heck I don't even cage my two chickens. The ONLY caged creatures are two ferrets, who get several hours out of their cage each day, and in fact, plans are in the works for a permanent large pen they can play in most of the day. The goats and ponies have three acres to roam. All have adequate shelter. Clean water that is refreshed every day. There is nothing unsanitary about their lives. Sure, there's poop in the pasture...but that tends to happen with livestock!

And trust me, they aren't starving. I'm having to cut back the grain on my goats before they're getting too fat. They might as well be pigs.

In my experience, a hoarder also will not provide adequate medical care. Some of you may know that our little farm operates on a very tight budget. It's this budgeting that allows me to do all the things I can. We have no debt (except our mortgage). But I will admit, we have no savings. Except for one. Our Veterinary fund. Every time I get a chance, and every week, I slip a tiny bit of money into it. I have done this for years, for as long as I have had ANY type of animal, any amount of animals.

While I do quite a lot of medical care on my own to save costs, Apple and Spyder managed to decimate the vet fund nicely. I spent a good amount with Juliet early this year, when she had a stillborn kid and a retained placenta. Currently we are spending a goodly amount of money on our older Boxer's medication, as she has Cancer.

But I am glad to say that through Jetta's sale, a helpful friend, and my artwork, the vet fund has recovered and is growing again.

I do have a lot of animals. I'll admit it. I spend all day at home, and my animals are among the few things that will drag me out of bed in the morning. They are my lifeline. And I refuse to allow anyone to make me feel guilty over it.

Yes, my goats serve a purpose and are production animals, but they are ALSO pets. They receive the best I can offer them. It may not be the BEST available in the world. But it's a hell of a lot more than many production or backyard goats get.

My horses may not have a fancy barn and the most expensive feed and supplements, but I think if they could understand and convey their thoughts, they'd be damned grateful, especially in this current economical situation, to have what they do. Especially Secret . . . who was facing a much less pleasant end.

So here I have gone off and rambled a long, probably incoherent post. The fact of the matter is, I know what I can and cannot handle, and I refuse to allow any person to make judgements upon me and try to make me feel badly. I am stronger than that.

This is my life, and I am content.

The Joy of Winter?

Winter approaches, stealing upon our drought-ridden lands like a sleek temptress of -

Wait, what?

Sorry, I was channeling my novelist side there for a moment. It happens.

It's getting cold again. Dreary. So I want to address a saying that absolutely drives me mad.

"I love winter!"




Hahahaha! What a load of tosh!

Now, don't get me wrong, I fully understand that those of you who claim to love winter fully believe this sentiment. And you may actually enjoy some of the more pleasant aspects of winter. Some people find snow beautiful. Certainly the cold helps cut down on insects. Many people enjoy the holidays that are associated with winter.

But let me tell you. No one loves winter. No, what they love is the ability to defeat winter. Oh yes . . . think about it. It's freezing cold outside, ponds are frozen solid, snow sits on the ground, the world is in an almost still silence.

Yet you are tucked cozily away inside a well insulated home, in front of a fireplace or a heater. Or perhaps your whole house has heat. Food is easily obtained, a short walk to the cupboard or a careful drive in a heated vehicle to the store. These are the wonders of our modern society so many take for granted. These marvels make it possible for people to claim to love winter.

Take away these things. See how much you love winter then.

Huddle under a scrap of cloth, in a thin shelter with no heat. Go hungry and shiver, using valuable calories trying to stay warm. Visualize this, for a brief moment, for me?

Many people, even in our modern country, still experience this each year. Do you think they love winter?

It's okay to love the "defeat" of winter. That's one of the great things about being as "advanced" as we are, as a species. Just acknowledge it for what it is, and take a brief moment to appreciate all the things you have, that others may not.

Never forget, that no matter how bad you might have it, there is always something to be grateful for.

Happiness

This is a post I've been meaning to write for some time. It's been kicking around in my head all that while, and this seems as good as time as any.

I will be confessing some things on this blog you may not have known. I don't want you to take these things and judge me, but merely have a bit more understanding in why I am the way I am.

I've not led an easy life. Some of my younger years were amazing and I was able to experience things out of this world. And other times were in stark contrast, horrible times that I try not to think on too much, if I can help it.



All of that has left me an interesting person, with the ability to look on and appreciate both sides of the spectrum. Of course, it has also affected me in a physical, emotional, and mental way.

Some of you may already know that I have very poor eyesight. I see well enough to do just about everything, but I lack depth perception that has at times made me very nervous and prevents me from driving. I am partially deaf in one ear. I do have a marvelous sense of smell and taste though!

I suffer from a blood disorder that has me perpetually tired and pale. I have a digestive disorder that prevents me from absorbing nutrients properly, keeping my weight hovering at dangerous levels. I have a few problems with my emotional state that will swing me from one extreme to another. At times I will have trouble seeing anything in a positive light.

I live my life in pain. It's a rare day I don't have some kind of pain.

But for all of that . . .

I am happy.

Imagine that. So I have problems. My life has problems. My house is far from perfect, the "normal" troubles of life plague me from day to day, on top of what I deal with, but it doesn't matter. I choose to be happy.

Sure, I could wake up and lay in bed and cry about everything I have to deal with. I could refuse to get up and struggle through another day. I could sell everything that forces me to get out of bed and slog around in the heat and cold, so that literally all I would need to do is lay in bed. I could give up. I could back down in my strong opinions and avoid conflict with other people.

I could do all of these things.

But I refuse. I REFUSE to allow myself to give up and be unhappy because it's EASIER.

NO. I *will* get out of bed, I *will* take the time to care for everything around me, even if it isn't perfect. I will *choose* to be in a good mood and enjoy my day to the best of my abilities.

It is absolutely a choice. I know that many feel that they can't help it if someone else ruins their day, or something bad happens and puts them in a bad mood.

But you CAN help it. No, you can't stop something from breaking or someone from being an asshole. But you CAN help how it affects YOU.

Take a moment. Close your eyes, take a deep breath. Tell yourself, you're not going to allow this to affect you negatively. You're going to handle it, and move on. You're going to CHOOSE to keep your good mood, or CHOOSE to be in a good mood instead.

Try it next time. It isn't easy (what is?) but you can certainly do it, if I can.

Welcome Secret

Is it bad that I'm cringing a little with a sheepish grin while writing this? I have a friend, a dear, beloved, wonderful friend, who is going to heave a huge sigh, roll her eyes, call me a bleeding heart, and whap me over the head with a newspaper once she finds out. You know who you are...

Though I honestly have no idea if she actually reads my blog. I imagine she does. Guess I'll find out now, won't I?

Without further adieu . . .

Welcome to K-n-S Farm, Secret.


Yup, I took in a rescue. *Hides from said friend.*

"Secret" (hehheh) is a 7-8 month old Welsh filly. She was run through an auction and went for pennies. A friend who pulls nice looking QH-esque horses from the auction, handles them, and resells as a small hobby, saw her right before leaving and managed to fit her in the trailer.

Knowing my affection for ponies and my patience for youngsters, she recommended I take in the little filly. And how could I say no? I'm a bleeding heart, remember?

We kept it quiet, partly because I didn't feel like getting beat over the head with a newspaper (quite yet), and partly because I love to tease my husband. He has no idea about this. Some of us are taking bets on how long until he notices her. Seeing as she's now standing right outside my back door, I can't imagine it will be too long.

For those wondering . . . no, my husband will not be angry or upset. He might pretend to be, for a space of ten minutes, before he's out there petting the new baby. The farm and livestock are my responsibility and he fully supports whatever I choose to do with it. So don't fret! It's all in good fun.

Anyhow. Secret is here. She's thin and a little frightened and confused, but she has a gentle eye and did not fuss too much about anything I did to her. She loaded and unloaded my friend's trailer without ordeal. I've settled her in with some hay and water and she seems alright.

Apple is ignoring her, although the goats are, of course, terribly curious.

The plan is to fix her up, put work into her, and perhaps when she's been started under saddle in a few years, resell as a good riding pony. It appears she's going to be a decent sized pony, larger than I had first anticipated when agreeing to take her.

What's one more mouth to feed around here, right? ;)

Epona's Super Secret Turkey

Yes, it's another recipe post! Enjoy.

This is a completely original recipe I created on my own, using knowledge and my own sense of taste. It turned out wonderfully for me the first year I tried it, so I did it again this year. It was like turkey heaven.

Ingredients:

Turkey - whole or whole breast (I've done both)
Orange Juice - 1 - 2 gallons depending on the size of your bird
Honey
Butter
Herbs that suit your taste (Rosemary, thyme, basil, etc)
1 Apple
1 Orange
1 Onion
Garlic cloves
Butter marinade - Store bought or homemade
Bacon
Potatoes (Optional)

Soak your turkey or turkey breast in orange juice, fully submerged if possible, for at LEAST 24 hours before cooking. The citric acid in orange juice saturates the meat, helping break down fibrous and tough tissue, and adds a pleasant subtle flavor.

Prep for cooking: Pull the skin up and pipe in a mixture of butter, honey, herbs under the skin and smush all around over the meat. Inject meat with butter marinade of your choice. Put a sliced apple, orange (rind left on), garlic cloves, and onion (remove outer peel) in the cavity. Rub honey, butter, herbs over the bird and place in the cooking pan. Put potatoes around the bird to soak in delicious cooking juices. Place fatty bacon over the breast, cover.

Cook until nearly done, NEVER overcook your bird. Check online for best times/temps for your bird's weight. (Here is an excellent page with a chart and information on cooking your turkey: Turkey Roasting Times Chart.)



At the end, uncover, pour over a melted butter and honey mixture, brown slightly. REST BEFORE CARVING. This is so important. Never just hack into your bird. The meat, right out of the oven, is very taunt from being cooked. If you slice into it, all of the juices will run out, leaving you with a dry bird. If you let it rest, the meat relaxes and retains all that wonderful moisture when sliced.

Eat the most delicious turkey you've ever eaten.