goats – Page 2 – Kensho Homestead

Homestead Happenings

I know it must be autumn somewhere! Here that reality is still mostly in my dreams. We’re still in the 90s and still mostly dry. There are a few tiny signs of change though, that I’m magnifying in my mind, because I can hardly wait! It’s been a terrible summer.

See, right there, 3 red leaves on my favorite Sassafras tree!
(Very soon to be featured in an ‘Herbal Explorations’ post)

But, I’m not going to complain about that now. Instead we’ve got lots of happy snaps, and even a few scary ones.

We’re gearing up for the fall/winter garden, getting the beds ready for the transplants that have been growing under lights for a month and are very ready for their new outdoor home, just as soon as the temperature drops a bit.

Hang in there brassicas, it’s almost time!

We just started harvesting sweet potatoes from the boxes waiting for replanting.

Those vines helped keep the goats happy and healthy during the extra long heat wave.

Summer keeping a sharp eye on Shadow even though there’s a fence between them.
None of the goats have warmed up to him, despite all his best efforts!

The peppers have come back with gusto after another dose of compost dressing and removing their shade cloth.

Jalapeños and banana peppers and the now monstrous cranberry hibiscus on right that is finally just starting to bloom.

Cucumbers again, yippie! Plus hurricane lilies, turmeric, zinnia and basil keeping the bees happy. And lots of bindweed (morning glory)—scourge to the industrial farmer—a hardy, lovely and welcome cover for the rest of us.

I’m getting about 1/2 gallon of milk a day from 2 goats and making cheese often—mozzarella and soft chèvre every week and a hard cheese whenever I can accumulate at least 3 gallons (preferably 6) in the freezer. The larger the hard cheese the easier it is to age properly and goat milk works just fine for cheese after freezing.

The easiest cheese to make and so delish!

But I’m really looking forward to making Camembert and Munster again. Just like all things natural, cheeses also have seasons. I was very disappointed by a so-called Brie I just splurged on from the grocery store. They should call it a processed Brie-like imitation and market it in the aisle with Velveeta. Quel scandale!

A few more friendly faces . . .

As I mentioned last update, we had a sausage-fest this summer, that is, a super-high percentage of males born, of all species—cats, pigs, sheep, chickens, goats. So odd.

Now we have 3 young male cats, a new thing for us. But one of them is a real scaredy cat, we’re never able to get close to him and he’s rarely around except for meal time.

Always crouching in the shadows and darting off even from the camera.

Also odd but true—our black cat, Mittens, hangs out with our black Shadow and our blond Tony hangs out with our blond Bubba and Buttercup—go figure!

*“Hey in there! Where’s our breakfast?!”*

I love spiders, especially these beauties, but some folks find them scary, apparently.

Now here’s a real foe . . . .

Gross! Looks like right out of a horror movie.
And he has a lot of friends haunting our compost heap. 🤢

But who loves ‘em but our very scary Halloween rooster . . .

Poor guy, we’ve no idea what happened to him, but he is one scary-looking dude!

Soon we will be making the tough but necessary fall homestead decision—who will get bred and who will shuffle off to freezer camp?

But not a care in the world for these contented creatures!

Hope you’re having a fine Sunday and thanks for stopping by!

Homestead Happenings

Sometimes I look at Handy Hubby and whine, “Please, make it stop!”

Then I think of the shrimp scene in the film Forest Gump—you got your boiled shrimp, your fried shrimp, your grilled shrimp, shrimp creole, your gumbo . . . .

Only with me it’s tomatoes.

In my defense I planted so many tomatoes because last year was not good for tomatoes, so we didn’t can up nearly as much as we wanted and were way short on salsa. The crop burned up so fast, it was pathetic, even though I planted just as many, we got far less.

So this year I was really determined. Decidedly, way too determined.

And, while we do (still!) have a bumper crop, it’s not exactly ideal, because once again, it’s so hot so fast that they are burning and exploding on the vine if I try to let them ripen properly. So, I have to bring them in to ripen, which means I’m really, really sick of looking at them everywhere.

Due to excessive heat we have uneven ripening, sun scald and plants dying while still full of unripened fruit.

But they are good, so, so good! My very favorite way to enjoy them is so simple—sliced and liberally doused with salt and pepper and served with— Everything!

We can chow through a good many this way, and it lasts for just a month or two, which makes our enjoyment all the sweeter.

Then you got your salsas, your chutneys, your marinaras, your tomato soup, your creamed tomato soup, your plain canned, your Rotella style, spicy juice for cocktails, ketchup, barbecue sauce . . .. 😆. Did I miss anything?

And the cucumbers. Oh please, don’t get me started on the cucumbers! How I long for them all winter, and within two months can hardly stand to harvest them any longer.

I purposely planted fewer this spring, planning to stagger them more, for a longer season. In fact, there should not be so many cucumbers at all based on my inputs, and the sad fact that there are NO bees on them. By that I mean our own honey bees are not visiting our garden, though there are two colonies within 75 feet of it.

Speaking of bees, half of my colonies, that’s 3 out of 6, have perished this summer. I’m not surprised when I lose a colony over the winter or early spring, but 3 that were going strong into the summer, this is unheard for me, and super depressing.

I also notice far fewer native bees, and the ones I am seeing are much smaller. The wasps seem to be doing very well, so maybe that’s who is keeping us in bushels of cucumbers at the moment?

And of course we’re offering the surplus to anyone! We give it to neighbors, bring it to gatherings, get the word around that it is available, for free. What we can’t eat or give away goes to the goats and pigs and they need to eat too!

So, when I get the occasional comment that we should sell it at the farmer’s market or somewhere equivalent, I understand the well-meaning at heart. But, what I’m actually self-censoring myself from saying does stray a bit from the habitual and expected smile and nod.

Because what I sometimes hear, though I’m sure was not at all the intentioned meaning is:
It’s really not enough that you work your fucking ass off to produce all this fine produce, you should now go out and spend money on gas hauling it to town and suffer through the rules and regulations and pay for a booth and market it to a public who mostly doesn’t give a shit what they eat, and let’s face it, mostly just wants it cheap and convenient. So, don’t just plant it, nurture it, harvest it, sort it, wash it, package it, but now haul it to a market 20+miles away and stand there in the blazing heat all day so you can clear about $30.30 a truckload.

Sounds so awesome! Sign us up! 😳

On a brighter note, here’s something you’ll really like, because the world really does need one more cute kitten video!

Oh and Happy Independence Day y’all, thanks for stopping by!

Homestead Happenings

A few updates from our very busy and already very hot summer. We’ve got bad news about the blackberry issue mentioned last month; a brief report on what Handy Hubby has deemed our ‘ Summer Sausage-fest’; some harvest and critter happy snaps; and a really funny question. Ending, like the beginning, with my favorite flower.

Novice seed-saving mistake on my part—don’t plant Kakai pumpkins next to zucchini. Even though one is a winter squash and the other a summer squash, they are both part of the same family: Curcurbita pepo.

According to Southern Exposure Seed Exchange “Curcurbita pepo: Most zucchini and summer squash are of this species. Winter squash varieties do not store well and are best eaten within a few months of harvest, but also need less time curing to sweeten up. Best planted in monthly successions throughout the summer due to vine borer susceptibility. If you have trouble growing these squash, try luffa gourds or Tromboncino summer squash as a substitute for zucchini.”

Squash, Pumpkin, & Zucchini Growing Guide

I planted these pumpkins for the first time because a friend gifted me the seeds. The seeds are so delicious I decided to try them even though I’ve not had success growing pumpkins in years past.

Well, these are a big success! Except, now those seeds have surely been cross-pollinated with the neighboring zucchini, which according to this farmer, means the seeds will no longer be hull-less, defeating the whole purpose of planting this variety of pumpkin.

Don’t I feel dumb!

And dumber still! We are no closer to solving the blackberry issue. Hubby did some scientific-like sleuthing to eliminate potential variables. One commenter on a forum said what we were seeing was totally normal blackberry development and we just had to wait a bit longer for our huge harvest.

So, Hubby took some before and after photos, about two weeks apart. As hopeful as we were that he was right, we were skeptical, and he has now been proven to be wrong. Unfortunately for us, the mystery remains and the blackberry harvest is puny.

But, we have been blessed with a few weeks of prolific chanterelles, which we love, though their tiny size requires some patience while picking. I’ve tried them preserved in oil for the first time and we’ve been enjoying them in crepes, omelettes, soup and sauces.

Chanterelles and while foraging for them we find
Not-Bert ducking and covering! 😆

We’re also getting a bumper crop of tomatoes and peppers, with Hubby continuing to pressure can while I remain fixated on fermenting.

On left Pressure canning carrots, green beans, banana peppers and jalapeños;
fermenting the same on right.

We rarely eat an entirely vegetarian meal, but with so much produce I thought I’d challenge myself to use every vegetable in one meal. As it’s so rare I thought I also better commemorate it with a photo!

Tomatoes topped with my own aged chèvre; cucumber and corn salad with salsa verde; veggie casserole au gratin; kombucha cocktails

More garden happy snaps.

Because obviously we have a lot more seeds than sense or cents, Hubby decided we didn’t have nearly enough to do with a huge garden, an orchard and squash plot, and a menagerie of critters, so he planted a separate melon maze as well! It’s actually pretty impressive and already producing, but we’ll see with this heat and drought how well it does. We were hoping the ‘El Nino’ predictions would be correct and we’d be wetter and cooler this year—so far, not panning out!

Hubby’s ingenious companion planting—esthetically pleasing and practical— sunflowers helping to shade the melon mounds.

Patty’s first litter: 9 males and only 2 females!

And still dumber still!! We’ve been gifted an unwelcome ‘Sausage-fest’ this year as far as livestock goes. A whopping 80% male birth rate among pigs, goats and sheep.

Of course, all the critters are cute little blessings, but no one really wants a Sausagefest.

However, Hubby did take the next big leap in livestock rearing and learned to castrate the piglets. He’s been avoiding that like the plague for YEARS! The lambs and kids are pretty easy and he’s been doing that since the beginning. But piglets are a different story.

I’m too squimish for all of it, so he never got any pressure from me to buck up, I’m not that big of a hypocrite. The nudge actually came inadvertently from a timely email from a friend who didn’t even realize at the time our current Sausagefest challenge.

I think it was seeing a girl do it, alone, that put the final bee in his bonnet! Or, is that spur in his boot, since this gal was demonstrating the ‘Boot method’.(We’re not on FB, so couldn’t see the entire post, but here’s the link, if you dare.) https://www.facebook.com/100064629581910/posts/in-the-past-ive-struggled-to-castrate-piglets-for-a-few-factors-i-took-an-old-ti/632005412297106/

He did the deed and it was a full success, bravo brave man! A real homesteading hero! 🤗

Scrappy, our first bottle-fed lamb is turning into quite the glutton

Now for the funny question, which sprouted from a favorite blogger’s recent post.

Plans for the Weekend? – Dispatches from the Asylum

In it we are presented with the ‘13 Do’s and Don’ts’ from the CDC about survival after a nuclear attack. It’s even funnier than the original!

From the life-saving list:
Do take a shower, but don’t use conditioner on your hair.
That’s even better than Duck & Cover!
Yes, you read that right! There’s our tax dollars hard at work to keep us safe.

I laughed so hard I wanted to include it somehow in our ‘Funny Friday’ post, but decided it really needed a whole section devoted to it.

So, before you click the link to look it up in order to verify (or afterward, if you promise to come back and reply!) here’s my question.

Can you guess why hair conditioner should not be used in the aftermath of a nuclear attack according to the experts?

Finally, the gorgeous, sublimely-scented Datura to leave us with some beauty and grace to cleanse the palette from the bad hair days certain to haunt us for decades after nuclear destruction. 😂

Datura blossom about to open for the evening

Thanks for stopping by!

Homestead Happenings

Lots to report since the last HH post. We’ve got slithering scares, miracle kids and lots of garden goodies.

My oh my, we’ve been busy! We haven’t had much time to do leisurely things, like take the dogs for a long walk in the back forty, which you might remember last post when Bubba saved us from a giant water moccasin with his ferocious warning barks.

It’s not that unusual to see snakes near the pond, where we were at that time, or along the creek. But I’m sure you can imagine my surprise finding them in the garden!

One copperhead under the squash, which I was lucky not to grab by mistake. It’s very typical of me to reach down without thinking as soon as I see something that shouldn’t be there, like twigs or weeds or dead leaves. Or, to pick a mature fruit, obviously.

Sometimes I don’t even wear my glasses to garden, or gloves, or shoes. Guess I’ll be re-thinking those habits now. Just as I reached my hand in, it registered, and I froze, and then laughed.

Hubby finds it humorous that I scream like crazy whenever I see a roach, I absolutely LOATHE them. But a snake, (beyond the startled OH!) even a poisonous one, not at all. I find them pretty amazing, and they’ve never bothered me (and I’ve had plenty of close encounters) or been aggressive, or been in the house. So I feel safe to just laugh and take pictures.

And then call over Hubby to take care of it for me. 😂

The other copperhead was just a baby, snoozing away on a swamp lily frond under the elderberry tree, kinda adorable-like. Here’s some perspective.

The elderberry from a distance, dead center. It’s quite a lovely specimen I think, but a bit too happy there, it’s getting invasive. The swamp lily is just underneath it.

Elderberry in the back. Up front, Zucchini and pumpkin—just learned today not only the fruit and blossoms are edible—but also the leaves. Can’t wait to try them!

We’ve finally got all the onions harvested, now just the garlic is left. That will be coming out very soon.

That’s about 2/3 of them pictured here. All the rest were quite small and so we’ll use them up first.

The tomatoes are looking awesome, but I don’t want to get too excited, because that could change any day with little warning. I planted loads of tomatoes because last year was not a good year for them, so I’m extra anxious for a decent crop.

We’ve also harvested all the new potatoes and while not terribly impressive, it was a better effort than past years for sure. The secret did not seem to be growing them in containers, which I tried for the first time, but rather lots and lots of poop. I tried them three different ways this year, none of them particularly better producing.

We’re also getting loads of green beans, after a couple of bad years. And some delicious peppers.

So many green beans that Hubby’s just canned 13 pounds of them! Such a joy for me that he’s taken over all the canning, which I’ve always dreaded. I never even tried the pressure canner and I’m not wanting to even a little. He is quite methodical about the process and can accomplish a lot in a short time and without breakage, far better than any of my past canning efforts.

Efficient, industrial, high yield, detail and process-oriented. Thank heavens for Hubby

But I do really love the fermenting and am experimenting with it very successfully. I made a celery-mint paste that is surprisingly delicious and a gallon of radishes that will last us easily through the summer. Next on the to-try list is green beans.

Customizable, small-batch, creative and so pretty in pink! Much more my style

A friend gave us half a dozen roosters, which Hubby quickly processed into freezer camp to save us from listening to the crowing wars for any longer than necessary. A handyman and a gentleman.

Hubby at the processing station. Not exactly government-approved. Bubba and Buttercup’s favorite days, all the heads and feet they can eat!

A couple of the roos were these little Bantums which became Sunday’s dinner—stuffed with rice and home-cured bacon, herbs and last year’s dried cherry tomatoes—and basted with ginger-melon marinade. Don’t be too off-put by their black skin and bones, they were delicious!

Dinner for two plus the much needed, time-saving leftovers.

Also served with foraged chanterelles in cream sauce and just harvested blackberries over pound cake for dessert. Mmmm.

And the best saved for last this post, the miracle! In the last post it was Bubba who was the savior, this time it was Buttercup.

We’ve got two pregnant does, due the first week of June. Because of that I’ve been a bit weary putting the herd too far from the corral, but I did it anyway. They are such homebodies normally and always come right back to the gate after disappearing into the woods for a while. Sometimes it’s harder to get them to go out and forage instead of sticking their head through every fence.

Double-protection required for the grape vines along the fence

Go forth and forage lazy goats! There’s acres of woods to eat, not my landscaping!

Except, only Phoebe disappeared into the forest that day. Alone, and so unlike her. She is the most herd-oriented of them all. She’ll start screaming if the entire group isn’t together at all times. If she was separated from her sister the first year, or her twins the year after that, you’d think from her incessant screaming that all hell’s broken loose. I’m sure the entire county can hear her sometimes.

But, silence. It happened about 3 or 4 pm, I suspect, that was the last time I saw her with the rest of the herd at the fence. We didn’t notice until it was time to put them up for the night in the corral. She was no where in sight, and we immediately went searching. We knew something must be very wrong. We searched until dark with no luck.

I went again the first thing the next morning. All the places I figured she might be holding out, having prematurely dropped her brood, waiting for them to get their legs, so she could bring them up to the usual gate. I walked all along the areas they frequent. It’s very easy to tell where the scrub gets thick again, compared to where they’ve eaten everything up to shoulder-height. I called out for her, listened for any responses or rustle of leaves, nothing.

After coffee and milking Hubby and I went back out together, along with Bubba and Buttercup. Shadow had to get left behind because the goats are still very weary of him. Bubba and I searched and called for an hour or so, nothing. I started to think the worst.

We went back and I was making some toast and cheese before heading back out again, so hungry. It was already hot and muggy and I was sick of slogging through the poison ivy and mosquitoes. I was stuffing a bite into my mouth when a very sweaty Hubby comes up to the window yelling.

“I’ve been yelling for you!”

What?!

He found her! He went far beyond where I’d stopped when he noticed Buttercup started weaving back and acting determined. He followed her and she stopped at a bewildered Phoebe and newly born triplets.

It took us another couple of hours to lure her back while carrying the triplets in a laundry basket across pretty challenging terrain.

But it was a happy ending and mama and babies are all doing well!

Preemies still under observation, but doing fine.

Ahh, the simple life!

Thanks for stopping by!

Homestead Happenings

Weird scenes inside the homestead! What have we to add to the big wide web of weird today? A couple of things only, along with some sad news and some happy snaps. Successes and failures, as usual. Trying to keep them all in stride, which with the wild flowers and a short country drive, isn’t too big a challenge at the moment.

Creepy visitor appearing everywhere after the rains

Best to get the crap out of the way first, I prefer. We’ve got seemingly severe blackberry failure and an established bee colony suddenly lost. I could write exhaustively on just those two, but since I’m already exhausted, I’ll keep it brief. And continue the relentless churning in my mind alone.

These photos and several more have seen the cyber rounds this week, let me assure you! And the cornucopia of responses we’ve received is rather astounding. Long story short—we’ve had some lovely rains, finally. But it sent our blackberries from thriving and gorgeous, to this brown, crispy-looking horror nearly overnight.

Not just a few bushes either, the entire row, a dozen bushes easy. It looks terrible. So we got a bit frantic and have been sending photos to Ison’s Nursery, where we got them. Also, to various friends and forums, where we’ve had answers to run the gamut: too dry, a virus, a fungus, a blight, Botryosphaeria canker, empty pocket syndrome, aphid damage, and then the kicker . . . This is totally normal development.

Wait, whaaat??

You mean to tell me these could be normally progressing blackberries and after many years of growing blackberries we just never noticed it before?!

Well that would certainly be a big and welcomed WOW! Yes please!

But unfortunately, I don’t think so. They look brown and shriveled beyond anything I’ve seen in any of the online photorama. And there’s no sign of aphids, and it’s not cane blight, and it’s certainly not too dry, although I totally understand that guess, since that’s exactly what it looks like.

And I do so appreciate all the speculation, seriously! It gets me thinking and exploring every time and I do so love all the effort and camaraderie inherit in it. Be wrong, it’s not the end of the world!

Of course, what I did so notice among the seeds of speculation was the one that was, unsurprisingly, totally missing. Toxic rain perhaps? Some other oddities in the atmosphere, perhaps? Not on anyone’s radar? Really?

No idea what’s happening in this photo with the blue dot-purple ring, I just snapped the shot with the tablet as soon as I saw the trail while busy in the garden.

On better themes . . .

I also took some lovely happy snaps of the wild flowers blooming along the road, which was so much more gorgeous than what I was able to capture here. But I tried, and that should count for something, no?

And on that note, this post will have a Part 2 to finish later, cause that’s all I can manage at the moment. More to follow, so much more!

Thanks for stopping by!

I leave with a song that motivates me when I really need it most. Hope it works for y’all too!

Homestead Happenings

A bunch of happy snaps, a bit of gardening news, a wild-like encounter and some homestead TV for today.

Everything’s blooming and we’re scheduled for frost/freeze at the end of the week! I was afraid that might happen, so have not put out the frost-sensitive plants, though they are definitely ready to be moved.

Not the most elegant set-up, but it works! Thriving under the lights and ready to transplant: tomatoes, marigold, calendula, Moringa, geranium, thyme, Mexican mint marigold, kumquat, anis hyssop

We’ve also kept the row cover handy in the garden for a quick save. A light frost won’t bother much in there now, but a freeze or prolonged low temps would do a lot of damage.

Lettuces, radishes, carrots, a few rows of garlic, then onions all the way back to the cucumber trellis, soon to be planted.

First time trying potatoes in containers and they’re looking good!

The wild cherries are my favorite wild fruit tree out here, they are super tiny, but the cherry flavor is super intense. Unfortunately, they bloom very early, so we rarely get a crop of them because of late frosts.

I’m particularly proud of this pretty plant, Coral Honeysuckle, because like with the cherry, I’m growing them from wild cuttings.

The goats do an excellent job of keeping the fence line cleared, so helpful! We have a boarder joining our wee herd for a while, Broderick, a sweet, young Billy whose owner was sick of listening to his constant mewing. He’s not made more than a peep since coming here, so he must be happy, despite his rivalry with our herd queen, Summer. They’ve butted heads many times, and poor Broderick doesn’t have horns. He’s had a bloody head, been chased around, and he keeps going back for more! So cute but so tough!

That’s Summer, the white one on the left. On the right, that’s Broderick facing the camera in front, and behind him also facing the camera is our whether, Hercules.

Of course, there’s always the dumbbell of the group, and that would be Bluebonnet, Summer’s offspring.

Bluebonnet, the only one to get her head stuck in this fence at all, and to show off, apparently, she does it 4 times! Each time having to be rescued by Hubby, thankfully working nearby.

There’s a steady supply of captivating entertainment around here. Just yesterday, around cocktail hour, I went out on the back porch to snip some cilantro from the herb boxes for our guacamole snack, and I stepped out onto this surprising tableaux.

I couldn’t believe my eyes, the gorgeous ribbon snake was positioned there as still as a statue. For long enough I went back inside to get my tablet for photos. And then, our barn cat, Skittles, sauntered over, neither the cat nor the dog remotely aware of the snake’s presence!

This went on for quite some time!

Finally I yelled to Hubby inside, “You’ve got to see this!”

He comes out, and of course, boys will be boys. He was not as satisfied with the simple moving tableau and banal observation of the odd occurrence, oh no, he had to throw some action into it.

So he chucks a little plastic planter into the middle of the scene, which startles the snake and snaps Skittles instantly into predator mode.

She spots the snake and takes a pose.

“Oh, no!” I gasp. Hubby says, “Huh?”

“Don’t let her get him!” I exclaim.

“Wait, who don’t you want to get who?” He replies.

“Save the snake!” I gasp.

So, in a snap he picks up the water bowl and throws its full contents onto the cat.

Happy ending, it worked, the pretty little wild thing slid swiftly beneath the deck. 🤗

Moving on to chick and piglet news, my how they’ve grown!

On the left are Hubby’s incubator-hatched chicks, and on the right are hen-hatched. Just 6 each, which is not a good success rate. Hubby’s got another batch going, pilot error on the previous one, he says, so fingers crossed!

The piglets are doing great. A very large litter, 12, all still alive and kicking. I was hoping to get a short clip of them wrestling, it’s so funny, but it’s not easy to capture, since they are mostly eating all the time.

But, watching them eat is pretty cute, too!

Thanks for stopping by!

Do come again, say Bubba and Buttercup!

Kensho’s ‘Stinking Peasant’

‘Stinky cheese’ is an official cheese category for those unfamiliar with the great wide world of cheeses. Really! They include the washed-rind cheeses, but some others as well, depending who you talk to.

These would include such well-known varieties as Muenster, Limburger, Raclette, but also some relatively new popular favorites like the Stinking Bishop of Charles Martell & Son – Cheesemakers and Distillers.

The Stinking Bishop—the name inspiration behind my own new cheese—the Stinking Peasant!
About the Stinking Bishop:
“The rind becomes sticky and pink, with a pungent, almost meaty aroma, while the interior is velvety smooth and almost spoonable. It is bound with a strip of beechwood, which also imparts its own woody notes to a cheese that is farmyardy, but not as strong as its smell, or its name, would suggest.”

The wash-rind process used to be referred to as “putrefaction fermentation”so you can understand why they might want to change the name.

When I set out 7 years ago into the glories of cheesemaking I had no idea I’d also be making my own ‘signature’ cheeses. At the time I was responding to the sorry fact that in order to buy even a remotely decent cheese I had to drive several hours. And even then, nothing was made from raw milk. I bought freeze-dried cultures just like the vast majority of home cheesemakers do. I found a lot of success imitating the favorites—mozzarella, Pepper Jack, Camembert, Parmesan, Swiss, dozens of cheeses. I’ve tried making just about every cheese you’ve ever heard of, and quite a few unknown to even real cheese aficionados.

Of course, considering there are 1400 named cheese varieties in the world, I still have a long way to go!

Several of my ‘signature’ goat cheeses now ripe and ready to eat. Still in the aging fridge are Pepper Jack, Dill Havarti and Caraway Gouda

But, the more I learned, the more I wanted to get back to basics. The more I got back to basics, the more I began to understand what a beneficial and even necessary learning experience it has been. Sure I can spend much time and effort recreating other people’s cheeses. But even better is to invent my own!

That means developing our ‘terroir’. No more purchased cheese cultures. Milking our own goats and making raw milk cheeses with our own wild yeasts, yogurt and buttermilk, all which change flavors and colors with the season.

Like a true Roquefort can only come from Roquefort, France and real Champagne only from Champagne. These have PDO status, that is Protected Designation of Origin.

The process is only part of the story, because the finished product is a signature of its terroir. Affinage, that is, the art of maturing the cheeses, is the next crucial component.

Not that I have any interest in throwing my cheeses into any rings with the big guys. Not a chance, even if my cheeses were that good (I think they are!). I have no interest in turning my pleasurable hobby into a stressful profession.

“In its simplest form cheesemaking is the aggregation and preservation of protein; in its highest form cheesemaking is alchemy. . . Many traditional European cheeses are on the decline or have disappeared. It is ironic that the United States is leading the resurgence of artisan cheese and is the fastest growing market for specialty cheese on the planet. Can we Americans be the saviors of French terroir? Or will our efforts to reveal our own terroir be stillborn because of insurmountable regulatory hurdles?”
~Mateo Kehler
Jasper Hill Farm, Greensboro VT

Anatole and the Robot (1960) — The story of a professional cheese taster whose job has gone to a robot. I think Anatole has the right idea:
“I sniff, I taste, I think, and then I use the magic of my imagination!”

Source:
The Oxford Companion to Cheese edited by Catherine Donnelly, foreword by Mateo Kehler

My favorite cheese-making book:

Homestead Happenings: To Be, or Not to Be, That Neighbor

You have to get pretty far out in the boonies to get the most tolerant neighbors. I think that’s a good thing. Usually.

Life has gotten even quieter here in the boonies in the last few years. The popular hype would have it that city folk are moving to the countryside in droves. While that may be so, the evidence is still wanting, at least around here.

It would seem the weekenders have less time, or energy, to practice their Sunday “Guns for God” rituals that used to attract them to these parts at regular intervals, in search of target practice.

In this, and other tolerance-mandatory moments, I have not always been as tolerant as the situation has required, I admit.

One time I recall a pick-up truck of ill-mannered miscreants, rifles in hand, showing up at our gate while Hubby was at work and announcing they would be hunting wild hog at the creek which is our property line, and I should let them come in through our gate for that purpose.

I put on my best ‘down home girl’ accent, which most likely fooled precisely no one, and said, “Ain’t no hogs down there darlin’s, creek’s nearly dry, can’t ya see!”

I so wanted to take that opportune moment to educate my derelict audience in the practice of deliberate drought by weather modification, but in reading the room, I decided against it.

“Best y’all get ya’s further down the Trinity valley,” I offered instead.

I know it wasn’t the fake drawl, and I had no gun on me, so I’m figurin’ it was my no-nonsense demeanor that got to ‘em. Not only did they not get through our gate, but they must’ve moved their shindig to other parts, ‘cause they moseyed on, I expect to more cooperative (aka, tolerant) locales.

Ain’t seen ‘em back since.

And then there’s the dogs, always the dogs. Owners are always losing their hunting dogs, even with them fancy tracking devices on ‘em. One time one frightened cutey found his way here and I trapped him, gave him a nice lavender bath ‘cause the poor dear stunk to high heaven, and waited for the owner to come a callin’, which he did, commenting on the dog’s unwelcome new fragrance.

Some assholes actually drop off the dogs they don’t want on our country roads. Can you believe that?!

And as if that’s not bad enough, sometimes your own neighbors are the problem.

When you lose half your flock of chickens to a sneaky dog your neighbor adores, and you caught him red-handed on candid camera, but the neighbor still insists it’s ‘your problem’, tension tends to develop.

Especially if you are me.

I’m like an angry, barking squirrel when I lose my patience, I get that. I’d try to correct that clear character flaw if it weren’t something I was proud of and have worked at developing so consistently.

But still, I can’t stand by and witness hypocrisy, even, or maybe especially, if it’s my own.

And now, it comes around, as our neighbors, few and quiet as they mostly are, have our livestock guard dogs, who think the entire county is their personal protection zone, annoying them with border barking patrols, all night long.

Let sleeping dogs lie? Hardly! The whole county gets a taste of their actions after midnight!

I want to send them an exasperated message—I’m so sorry—they are not respecting their boundaries! We don’t want to be ‘that’ neighbor, really!

But in our defense, not even the electric fence stops them! We are at our wit’s end trying to solve this issue!

Thank you for your patience!

Thankfully for us, our neighbors are so tolerant they don’t even have the decency to complain.

And as if that wasn’t enough. All my best laid plans of goats and cheeses are dwindling.

Summer, herd queen, always taking the high ground, with Phoebe and Chestnut cowering nearby. A definite love-hate relationship.

The goats have declared mutiny. We already had a misfit crew: Summer the Eldest, herd queen, a belligerent, bossy bitch who terrorizes the rest of the herd with her monster horns, yet who they follow everywhere; Chestnut the Crazy, who is super-skittish and a first-freshener and more moody than a teenage girl; and Phoebe the Squatter, another first-freshener, who is the most stubborn goat on earth, I’m certain.

These horns were meant for knockin’, and that’s just what they’ll do . . .

“But, but, but . . . can’t you see how cute and innocent we are?”

I’ve been watching YouTubes and reading up for months now and I can say that not one goat I’ve seen can match Phoebe in out-right belligerence and deceptive tactics. She’ll jump right up on that stand, give you a singular taste of cooperation, only to . . .BAM . . .lay right down on the job as soon as I get my bucket in position.

And go figure, that is not among the prize characteristics showcased at the 4-H or any other of the breeding clubs.

My goat guru offered the most obvious of advice, “You must be more stubborn than the goat!”

Honestly, I thought my stubbornness to be among my most obvious and enviable characteristics, inherited from my mother. I then deliberately married a very stubborn man, who also inherited his stubbornness from his mother. We’re like five generations of stubborn in one.

And yet, we are like the impetuous novices in comparison to truly goat-level stubborness. I must humbly admit, I’ve been defeated. My cheese-making days are on the wane, maybe for many more months, just when I was really getting into the swing of things.

Alas, the simple life is really not that simple.

Good bye fair cheeses, may we meet again!

Homestead Happenings

Never a dull moment on the wee homestead. Since our last update we’ve got limping dogs, goat rodeo, weather whiplash, a huge harvest of sweet potatoes, new cheeses and old ferments.

If it’s the cooler temps or longer nights or more critters creeping around, we can’t say, but our dogs have been doing a lot of midnight galavanting. First they got into skunks, and that was bad enough. Now we go out first thing in the morning to find them wet and limping and exhausted. We’ve started taking them for walks during the day trying to tire them out and make sure they get enough gentle exercise, because we’re worried they’re going to get themselves into some real trouble. It’s working out very well for our barn cat, Skittles, who now roams wherever she wants without fear of attack.

A gentle walk for the whole crew and a carefree cat

Milking just three goats twice a day is proving to be quite the chore considering with the two first-fresheners it’s a constant battle of wills. It seems every day they learn a new trick trying to get free treats. First it was bucking and kicking, then squatting making milking impossible, now one has graduated to full refusal, getting up on the milk stand only to lay down flat. It takes both of us, Hubby to hold legs and supply food, me to grasp the bucket with one hand and milk with one hand, each with our reflexes on full alert to shift, draw, grab in the split second it takes a hoof to swipe, spill, crush. It’s really not fun. At all. I have to remind us both that it takes patience and to stay focused on the rewards.

Cheese!

In garden news we got a very early frost and then the temps shot right back up to the high 80s. It’s cooled down a bit since then again and we got a whole 1/2 inch of rain, woohoo! It hardly made a difference, but maybe my fall seeds have a better chance now of germinating.

We harvested loads of sweet potatoes and still have more to go. The vines can’t handle even a light frost, like the basil, so we got all we could manage beforehand though the tomatoes and peppers survived, so that was a pleasant surprise.

I continue to experiment with fermenting all kinds of veggies and they are coming out so delicious. I moved them from the aging fridge to make room for the cheeses, but they kept great in there all summer. We’ve got all kinds of goodies—cucumbers, basil, peppers, okra, carrots, cabbage—and soon I’ll be tying sweet potatoes.

A whole world of deliciousness I’ve only really embarked on seriously starting this year, and thanks to this excellent book.

P.S. Sorry for all the sideways photos and if you get a crink in your neck trying to view them you can thank WordPress for that. I spent an hour trying to correct them, and it’s not working. My WordPress experience is getting worse and worse, which is why the days of this blog will be over soon as it’s just become too annoying to continue it. It’s gone steadily downhill since they forced the Block Editor on everyone. They continually make changes that only make it harder and more time-consuming to post. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted!

In the meantime, thanks for stopping by!

Fun With Goats

No, I don’t mean Goat Yoga, that’s just dumb.

Really, yoga’s not enough torture for you, you need hooves to the spine, too?!

We love our goats, but not inside, duh.

New screenplay idea: Goats Who Stare At Men!

Because of the heat and drought the best forage is close to the house, where we are regularly watering. It’s good for the goats, and for us it makes for better entertainment than most TV. There are drawbacks though. Like they eat pretty much all the plants, not just the ones we want them to eat.

And they tend to follow me around, waiting for the extra special treats I bring them from the garden, like their favorite, sweet potato vines and morning glory.

And they want to climb on everything.

Our once somewhat peaceful morning coffee now attracts a team of show-offs. (I don’t think Bubba approves, considering what they do to his bed.) They do giant leaps off the deck, too, that look a lot like the tricks snowboarders do, but not on cue, unfortunately.

Please feel free to enjoy 2 minutes of Chez Kensho programming!

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