Learning to Spin

The newest addition to our already cozy studio apartment: a handmade spinning wheel. Noah bought it off craigslist last weekend for an early birthday surprise. The woman warned us that it would need a few pieces – a peg to hold up the wheel, a belt – but we were confident we could easily replace any and all of the parts. Niether of us knowing anything about spinning, we were chuffed to have a gorgeous handmade wheel displayed in our apartment.

In calling around to local craft and fiber shops, I realized that spinning wheels are just about the most complicated luddite device to survive the digital revolution. Not only can I not find parts for the wheel, I’ll have to fashion most of them from scratch and adopt all of the available spinning info for my unique wheel. The first line of warning in my teach yourself to spin book? “Do not learn on a handmade wheel.” Awesome. The only indication as to the wheel’s origin is a carving on the underside of the body that reads “Licky ’79.”

Nonetheless, I certainly have plenty of raw materials: two of our farm companions happen to be a mother-daughter team of curious alpacas who are ready for their summer shearing.


62 Mail Order Chicks Later…

So, we’re raising 62 meat chickens.

After finishing up evening chores yesterday, I walked into our make-shift greenhouse (the room below our kitchen area where I’ve been nursing various seedlings) to find a whole new set of tender challenges. In a metal incubator set on the seeding table were 62 tiny chicks peeping and scuttling like 1st graders let out for recess after a week of rain. The owner purchased them online and they arrived during the day with only one chick DOA (a good turnout).

The chicks are Cornish crosses, so they’ll quickly lose that adorable yellow-fluff and transform into dirty white little monsters. Their legs will forever be too bulky for their bodies; their breasts will grow heavy and tip the pullets toward the ground. Cornish crosses are the meat industry standard: their modus operandi during their short lives is to eat – constantly and furiously – as they mature to processing weight within six to eight weeks. Past that? They die off by ten weeks.

Totally crazy, right? After working with both Heritage meat birds and some gorgeous layers, I’m a little apprehensive to work with these franken-chicks. Plus, this will be the first time I’m raising something solely for slaughter. I’ve been on most sides of the animal industry equation (distribution, retail, slaughterhouse, dairy), so I guess it’s about time that I take on the system as a whole.

{Beautiful and healthy layers, a far cry from a mature Cornish cross}

My newest venture notwithstanding, I’m definitely not eating meat anytime soon; I’m viewing these next eight weeks as an experiment in sustainable meat production. To begin, I picked up a copy of Storey’s Guide to Raising Chickens. Until next time…


The Year of the Goat(s): Unemployed and Homeless in Washington

It’s been about one year since I donned my purple graduation cap and gown. At the time, I had no job prospects; my immediate post-grad plans were to travel to Europe for three weeks and deal with the realities of adulthood after a binge in the French and English countryside.

One year later, I’m living in an a-frame  studio apartment above a shed in Washington state; from our porch door I can see the summit of Mt. Rainier peeking above the tree line of the field across the street. I’m surrounded on all sides by goats, alpacas, hens, and cawing roosters.

Our set-up is not too bad. Of course this is only after a minor life crisis: a week and a half ago Noah and I were literally homeless and unemployed in a state unfamiliar to both of us. We drove all the way across the country with our belongings in tow to begin the second installment of our farm apprenticeship, only to experience something like anaphylactic shock at seeing the disarray that ruled our newest farm-stay. We lasted six days, the whole time cringing at the mal-treatment of the animals, the disgusting condition of the cheese room, and the complete battiness of the farmer. That’s what we get for taking an apprenticeship on blind trust. Early on a Saturday morning, we broke our six-month contract just in time (we were still within our week-long trial period), re-packed our car and headed to the nearest cafe to begin our research. Adrenaline pumping, we remained in a state of hazy disbelief until the following day. We camped that night in the Wenatchee National Forest (gorgeous), drinking beers by the fire and having minor existential frets. Both of us college educated, largely cordial and cooperative, and passionate. What the hell were we doing living out of our car in the middle of Washington state with no income and nowhere to call home?

What followed was a Jack Kerouac-esque adventure, with us sleeping every night in a new place, camping or motel stays. We spent our days surfing the ATTRA Internships and Apprenticeships and WWOOFUSA at cafes in random Washington towns, making phone calls, and visiting farms. Our friends and family all offered us the names and phone numbers of anyone they knew on this side of the country. We were determined, though, to make farming work. If all else failed, we were headed to Portland (I’m totally not kidding). In five days, we toured four farms and crossed the Cascades three times.

We ended our adventure here, at Left Foot Farm on the Western side of the state, only about an hour outside of Olympia, Tacoma and Seattle. We’re charged with evening milking, chores, and feeding kids. We’re also gardening a quarter acre lot on the farm – we’re both super pumped to finally be getting our hands in some real dirt, but there’s a serious learning curve as the largest garden we’ve worked was our tiny porch in Brooklyn last summer. Nonetheless, we’re ready for the challenge. Pictures to come soon.

I’ve started reading Margaret Hathaway’s The Year of the Goat (given to me by the wonderful farmers at Willow Spring Ranch in Montana). It’s the story of a former Magnolia Barkery manager and her photo-editing boyfriend who leave their comfortable life in Brooklyn to travel the country for one year visting various goat farms and dairies. It’s refreshing to know that we’re not the only ones totally insane enough to leave behind our former selves, all in search of the perfect goat farm.


Day 2: Toledo to Chicago to Madison

The longest leg of our journey is over Day 1 – 9.5 hours from the Hudson Valley, NY to just outside of Toledo, OH.

Yesterday we trekked it straight on I-90 to Chicago and then Madison. Having only an hour to spend in the Windy City, we headed over to Millennium Park to see the famous reflective bean. Yup, it’s a giant shiny bean all right:

For whatever reason, Wisconsin has always been at the periphery of my potential-new-home-vision. Maybe it’s the state’s reputation as an agricultural and dairy hub (the license plate slogan is “America’s Dairyland” afterall); maybe it’s my secret obsession with the midwest. In any event, Madison is the city I’ve been holding out for.


Of course there’s the University of Wisconsin, Madison. I still have a foot in the graduate school camp, and their programs in agroecology, rural sociology, dairy science and animal sciences (nerd alert) are really hard to pass over. But my one critique is dairy in Wisconsin is synonymous with cow – maybe some sheep – but goats are nowhere to be found.

Enough of the nerding anyway. Unfortunately, our trip had us arrive in Madison on a Sunday around 4PM – just as all of the businesses were closing for the weekend, including Fromagination, a cheese shop on Capitol Square that showcases local farms and creameries. From what I could see from the outside, the shop is bursting at the brim with cheese, wine and other artisinal ephemera.

We had dinner at the Old Fashioned (“Where Wisconsin is King”) also on Capitol Square. Check it out: over 150 Wisconsin beers and all for around $4.00 a pint! Hot damn! And (as if that wasn’t awesome enough) beer battered cheese curds and beer and cheese soup topped with popcorn. We were hoping to eat at Harvest, which boasts local and organic fare, but the white linen table cloths and oversized wine glasses seemed a little unfitting for our road trip/camping attire.

Our stay in Madison was too short for sure, but we’re hoping to someday head back out this way and tour some of the dairy farms and creameries in the area. For now, onwards to Minneapolis!


The Trip Begins

Once again, our car is packed with all we care to carry with us to our new home. Primarily work clothes, books and mix cds.

Our cross country route is above – we’ll be passing through the Hudson Valley, NY; Toledo, OH; Chicago, IL; Madison, WI; Minneapolis, MN; the Badlands National Park, SD; Billings, MT; Yellowstone National Park, WY; Willow Spring Ranch, MT; Couer d’Alene National Forest, ID; and finally Omak, WA. We’ve refigured our route a few times as most of the mid-to-north west of the country is still snowed in! Apparently winter is still a thing in some places.

And we’re off! First stop, Toledo!


Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 678 other followers