Wildlife on the farm....through the eyes of Banjo

This is not exactly a post about farming but it relates to what I've spent a good chunk of time doing on the farm this winter so I figure it's as good a place as any to jump back into the world of blogging after my absence of more then a year.  Sheesh!
Our 70-acre farm is a beautiful place.  Half, productive, workable land where we grow an abundance of certified organic vegetables and raise our pastured livestock and half a beautiful, cedar bush, meandering creek, and acres upon acres of wilderness.  One of my favourite things to do in my time off is explore the 'back 40' with my 3 trusty pooches- Maya (10 years old, Golden Retriever, wise and loyal), Banjo (2 years old,Black Lab/Collie Cross, intelligent, brave, impulsive), and Rocky (almost 1 year old, Great Pyranese Cross, goofy, a little timid, loving and Banjo's loyal side-kick).  Here they are innocently (ya right) peering into the baby quail pen this spring.

And here they are yesterday enjoying a visit to the creek.

They are the luckiest dogs on the planet having so much space to roam and play....and they get into their fair share of trouble too.  Banjo especially.
In the 2 years I've owned her she has had more adventures, and been in more trouble then I ever thought possible.  In 2012 alone, she was sprayed by approximately 6 skunks (or the same angry skunk 6 times), stuck her face in one of our beehives which resulted in an immediate transformation into a wrinkle dog...

Got her foot stuck in a beaver trap....whole other story but a synopsis is: we had a family of beavers damming our creek this summer and fall.  It was helpful and enjoyable during the drought and then not so much when they starting deforesting our property and flooding our land.  We called the municipality who then called a trapper in.  Mr. Trapper planned to set a number of traps to rid us of our buck-toothed friends, I pointed out I had 3 dogs, he assured my in 45 years of trapping he'd never caught a dog, Mr. Trapper, meet Banjo.  2 days later Banjo's foot is stuck in the trap atop the dam.  Luckily our tenant farmer Jenny was home with her boyfriend Peter and came to the rescue!  It took 3 of us to hold her down and release the leg trap from her poor paw (I'm surprised those traps are even legal).  She limped for a day but in her usual resilient way was back patrolling the beaver dam the next day.

Finally, and most aggravatingly is her unwavering attraction to our resident porcupine (which, although I'm sure it's a resident, I have yet to discover it's actual residence).  In 2012, Banjo had quills pulled out of her face/mouth/tongue/chest/paws no less then 8 times.  The first incident, I dutifully took her to the vet to be anesthetized for the procedure...to the tune of $250.  Obviously, incidents 2-8 (and Rocky's 5 incidents while accompanying Banjo) have been home procedures.  While Rocky, the wimp, still runs and hides and whines while they're being removed, Banjo has reached a mature stage of stoically lying on her bed while I pull the quills out with my bare hands.  We've reached an understanding I think...I just wish the understanding was that she wouldn't touch the damn porcupine anymore! Here are some photos of 'The Year of the Porcupine!

Good thing I love them. They are pretty cute afterall!
Next post I promise will be sooner then a year from now, and will have something to do with farming!

Bee Friendly Farming

We've been keeping honey bees at reroot organic farm for 3 seasons now.  It seemed like a complimentary hobby for someone with a small diversified farm- encourage more pollinators in the garden and get to enjoy the honey as a by-product!  Sounds simple enough...

We quickly learned why there are fewer and fewer beekeepers keeping bees each year.  What used to be a relatively easy and enjoyable pursuit is now a challenging and often heart-breaking endeavor with countless diseases, pests and the mysterious 'colony collapse disorder' plaguing the health of the honeybee.  It is now virtually impossible to keep hives without engaging in some form of treatment to keep the ever present mites at bay...and without the routine use of anti-biotics, one runs the risk of contracting a disease called foul brood which not only kills your bees, but contaminates your equipment with disease spores rendering it useless for future hives.  We were unfortunate enough to learn all about this latter affliction during our first year beekeeping when the nucs (baby bees) we bought came to us already infected with the dreaded foulbrood.  A big bonfire (to burn the contaminated equipment) and hundreds of dollars later, we were back at square one.  If one does manage to keep their bees healthy and happy during the season, the winter months can wreak havoc on the colonies and often beekeepers arrive at their hives in the spring to discover them empty.  We unfortunately lost 3 of our hives over this past winter.

All of this paints a bleak picture of beekeeping, but the thing is, it's so addictive that once you venture into the world of the honeybee....there's no turning back.  They're fascinating creatures to observe with one hive being made up of about 50,000 worker bees (all female) one queen (who lays between 1000-2000 eggs each day!) and a handful of drones (the male bees who basically laze around the hive in the off-chance that they might need to breed a new queen....which only happens once every 2 or more years....that's okay though, in the fall the worker bees toss the free-loaders out of the hive so they don't have to feed them over the winter).  The worker bees work tirelessly at their designated jobs- raising the baby bees (called brood), collecting pollen and nectar, and guarding the hive against intruders.  When you observe closely, you can see the many colours of pollen the bees bring home, stuffed in little sacs on their back legs, ready to feed to the young.  They forage up to 5 miles from the hive but if suitable food is closer, they're happier to stick close to home.  On average each year we're able to harvest about 100lbs of honey from each hive we keep while still leaving enough for the bees to feed themselves over the winter.  There's nothing more rewarding them tasting that first sweet taste of honey during the extracting process...it's tasty and it's also amazingly good for you with anti-bacterial, anti-fungal and anti-viral properties.  It also never spoils....perfectly good honey has been found in ancient Egyptian tombs!

So yes, here at reroot organic farm, we're addicted to beekeeping despite the many challenges.  We're learning more each season about this complex species and are dedicated to making them an integral part of our farming operation.  For this reason, we became the first farm in Wellington County and one of the first farms in all of Canada to become a Certified Bee-Friendly Farm.  In addition to keeping bees ourselves, we also plant crops that provide food for honeybees and wild bees alike; allow hedgerows and naturalized areas to grow providing habitat; and don't use any chemicals on our farm that might be harmful to bees. 

We think beekeeping is one of the most important things we do at reroot organic farm, and encourage everyone to try their hand at beekeeping or at planting a bee friendly garden.  More information on the Bee Friendly Farming Initiative can be found at http://pfspbees.org/bff.htm

PIGS- by Robert Munsch

Well my good intentions of regular blog entries seemed to fall by the wayside when last season got busy.  This is a new year, with new intentions and there is definitely no shortage of entertaining, educational, often humiliating farm stories to share, so here we go again...
I just found my old copy of PIGS by Robert Munsch on my bookshelf and am blown away by just how accurate a reflection that story is.  I had no idea as a small child, but now, as I finish up my first year of raising pigs I can attest to both their smarts and their destructive powers.
March 2010 marked our entry into the world of pig farming and we jumped in whole-hog, bringing 7 little weaners (that's what they call little pigs that have been weaned from their mama pigs) home from a Milverton farm.  These weren't just any old pigs, they were Berkshires- desired by chefs around the world for their flavourful meat and I was purchasing them from a farmer who raised them both on organic grain and pasture, exactly the way I planned to.  Bonus!  Our plan was to raise 5 of them for meat and keep the most promising 2 gilts (that's what they call unbred ladies) to have our own piglets the following year.  What followed was an enjoyable few months watching these babies play and run and roll in the mud, eat copious quantities of discarded vegetables (along with whatever else they could get their snouts on), and grow, grow, GROW!  Despite the fact that we didn't properly train them to their electric fence, they stayed contained in their pasture for the most part.  Any piglets that did stray, didn't go far and always returned to barn for their next meal.  We were lucky to have a good abattoir just around the corner from us, and although I could probably write separate blog entries about each time we loaded and delivered pigs, suffice it to say that 5 of them made it successfully into the freezer to be enjoyed by many.  By the fall, we were left with our 2 lovely ladies that we planned to breed.  We named them Penny and Fran and figured the winter would be a breeze with them until they farrowed in the spring.  Not so.  I am not sure what changed for these 2 black beauties but somehow the 1 acre pen and pasture that was of ample size for the 7 of them, no longer suited these 2 and they took to breaking through the fence on a pretty much daily basis.  Some highlights include:
- a friend of mine planting trees in the ditch along the road and feeling a presence behind her.  Assuming it was the dogs, she turned around to find a 350lb pig watching her work.
- arriving at the barn one morning to find only one pig in the pen.  Frantically searching the barn/pasture/whole farm, calling her name and imagining the horror of having to knock on my neighbours doors to tell them I lost my pig.  Or worse yet, hearing on the news about a stray pig wreaking havoc around town or parading down the highway.  After working myself into a frenzy,  I returned to the barn for a THIRD search only to hear a familiar grunt as Penny emerged yawning from beneath an entire bale of hay in the sheep pen where she'd spent a cozy night.
- patching a hole in the fence and then watching a few minutes later while a powerful snout tears a new one right beside it.
- watching helplessly while both of them make their way through our raspberry patch, into the asparagus, and past the bee yard.  
- getting a phone call from a helpful neighbour while out doing errands, informing me that there are 2 black pigs standing on the road in front of my house...might they be mine?
-begging, pleading, bribing, doing anything to try to convince these 2 (now almost 400lbs) to return to their pen when they've walked through the electric fence.  They're always scared to cross the threshold back once they've had a shock on their way through.  I have no idea why they can't just remember the shock while they're on the RIGHT side of the fence.
Luckily, neither can resist meal time and are both always back where they're supposed to be in time for the next feed.  A $600 fencer, many hours spent repairing fences, and lots of time to practice my patience, we have (for the most part) succeeded in containing them.    They've become friendly, lazy pigs who will roll right over to have their bellies rubbed, or sidle up beside me for an ear scratch.  I'm well aware that these humongous creatures could crush me in an instant if they so choose, so I've opted to develop a friendly rapport with them rather then one based on fear and intimidation.  I know they're smart but also incredibly stubborn.  I also know that the way to their hearts is through their bellies so often resort to tasty treats as bribes.
Next week we go to pick up their new beau (who I've affectionately decided to call Boar-at).  We're borrowing him for a month or so from a nearby farm to breed our ladies.  I am hoping for a peaceful, uneventful time but based on my last year of pig experience, I can almost guarantee there'll be a new pig related blog entry in the near future. 
Stay tuned....

The day the greenhouse nearly burned down.....

It's taken me more then a month to recover from this incident enough to write a blog entry about it.  It's a good story and an important lesson in fire safety which is why I feel compelled to share it.  It's also just another little adventure on the farm that serves to keep us humble and appreciative of what we have going on here.
It was an early April evening and I'd just finished seeding dozens of flats of pepper and eggplant seeds in our newly built greenhouse.  As the sun set, I prepared to light a fire in our newly installed woodstove which we had put in with the hope of reducing our propane dependence (and costs!).  The stove had come from a friend's home and it arrived full of long dead ashes which we had shovelled out into a plastic pail when we had installed it.  Now, a few days later, the ashes had built up in the stove again and I thought it best to shovel them out before lighting the evening fire.  Without thinking (obviously), I grabbed the plastic pail and piled the fresh ashes in, placing it back beside the door when I was done.  After stoking the fire, I headed up to the house to get ready for an evening trip to the sugar shack.  About an hour later as I'm heading out the door for the maple bush, I decide to peek in at the fire to make sure it's burning well before I take off for the night.  As I approached the door, I immediately knew something was wrong...I couldn't see through the transparent plastic walls of the greenhouse.  When I threw open the door, I figured out why...the entire greenhouse was full of thick black smoke.  All I could see through the smoke was flames shooting up from the base of our electrical panel (not a good sight!).  I somehow had the good sense to run to turn off the breaker to the greenhouse and then promptly froze, not knowing what to do next.  I called my friend and told her the greenhouse was on fire....she (not so calmly) suggested I find the fire extinguisher and put it out.  Which I did.  When the smoke cleared, we assessed the damage.  Gone were the plastic pail of ashes, a hose, a fan, 10 trays of eggplant seeds and the wooden base of the electrical panel.  The conduit (containing the wires) was burnt to a crisp.  Amazingly the plastic greenhouse covering was undamaged as was the rest of the structure.  By all accounts if I'd been out there a mere 5 minutes later, the greenhouse (and hundreds of trays of seedlings) would have gone up in smoke.  A month later, and after a visit from the electrician, there is virtually no evidence of the blaze. 
Lessons learned:
-  Don't put live ashes in plastic pails
-  Own a fire extinguisher (and know where it is and how to use it)
-  Don't underestimate the destructive power of fire
Now that I've recovered from the trauma of almost destroying my livelihood in one evening, I can look back and appreciate the way things worked out, the lessons learned and the adventures I'm having pursuing this farming career.  On to the next one!  Stay tuned...

The many faces of community in agriculture

As a community shared agriculture farmer I often spout the benefits of community-based farming.  The CSA model is based on a mutually beneficial community model where the farmer supports the eaters by providing healthy, fresh produce; the eaters support the farmer by providing a steady market for their products; and the whole system supports the local economy and environment.  Basically it's a win-win situation and I would encourage anyone who eats to join a CSA to experience first-hand the benefits of being part of a local food system.  Now that I've got that mandatory spiel out of my system, I wanted to write about a few recent experiences that have gotten me thinking about the broader agricultural community. 
The first such experience has been my spring ritual at the maple sugar bush.  Since arriving in this community 5 years ago, it has been an annual occurrence of mine to help out at Don & Sheila Morden's sugar bush.  With over 1400 taps, and collecting sap the old fashioned way, with buckets and a horse-drawn sleigh, the harvest of maple sap is most certainly a community event.  When the weather is right and the sap is flowing, Sheila makes a few phone calls and by mid-afternoon the bush is full of bucket-toting sap collectors.  When the job is done, everyone gathers back at the sugar shack for snacks and conversation.  Many of the 'hired hands' are paid in maple syrup, which seems to suit them just fine.  I myself have a barter arrangement with Don who plants & digs my potatoes in exchange for my help during syrup season.  Maple syrup season at the Morden's is an event I look forward to every spring and a wonderful example of the type of community that makes rural areas thrive.
The other experience that has me pondering the meaning of community in agriculture has been my annual spring purchases of tools and equipment necessary to embark on the growing season.  Farming in an area with large Mennonite and Amish populations certainly has its advantages in this respect.  It's taken me awhile to get to know various members of these communities but now that I do, an amazing and diverse number of resources have presented themselves to me.  I used to have to source everything for my greenhouse and market garden operation from large suppliers down south but now have found a local source for just about everything I need.  It's a different way of going about it- you can't just google 'biodegradable plastic mulch' and come up with the name of the Amish family who supplies it (and an amazing range of other gardening equipment) out of the shed at their family farm.  Similarly, I would have had no way of finding Danny Schmidt on my own who supplied me with organically-raised Berkshire piglets (he doesn't have a phone).  When I ran out of potting trays this spring, it was a short trip to Elmira to buy a box from a Mennonite fellow who buys bulk greenhouse supplies to make them available to small farmers at a reasonable price.  I've been blown away by the strong agricultural community that exists in our area....if you know where to go looking for it.  And there's only one way to figure that out it seems...by talking to your neighbours. 
Oh yeah, and while we're on the topic of community in agriculture...if you haven't joined a CSA yet...now's your chance.

The importance of a good fence.

We need some good fences.  As our roster of livestock grows, it's become clear that the makeshift fence situation we have on our hands is not going to suffice.  Last summer our neighbour's critters who were pasturing here had a very broad definition of free-range as they grazed across our whole farm, onto our other neighbour's fields and down the road.  This winter, with a little time for research I found a couple grant opportunities that will allow us to fence most of our pastures for free (lucky for us all of our pastures border onto a river, so the government is keen to help us keep critters out of the waterway).  I had booked an appointment for a fencing consultant to come out to the farm to take some measurements as soon as the snow melted.  Monday was that day.  The fencing man (who will remain anonymous) arrived at the farm a little early.  I looked out to see him pull up just as our one pet goat squeezed herself under the fence (for the 3rd time that day) to greet him.  Trying to play it cool, I joked about how she was demonstrating for him just how crappy our fences were.  Not wanting to waste his time, I told him I'd put her back in her pen when we were finished the measurements (secretly I knew she'd be back out again in 3 seconds so really there was no point).  We headed off towards the river with 2 dogs and goat on our heels.  Once we measured everything we could on our side of the river, we realized there was no way to get across the freezing, fast flowing water.  Our little bridge had long been washed away with the spring thaw.  No problem I told him, my neighbour has a bridge, we'll just walk along the river and cross there.  Well, the bridge was further then I recalled, and I couldn't help but feel bad as I lead him huffing and puffing through bush and fields and across the river into my neighbours maple bush (goat and 2 dogs still in tow).  As luck would have it, my neighbour happened to be back there tapping his trees at the time so he was able to take in the site of this motley parade through his bush.  Thirty minutes of trekking later, we arrive back at my property to measure the last pasture.  Feeling bad, I offer to try to construct a bridge out of branches while he finishes the measurements.  As soon as he is out of site, I call my friend who is up at the house and beg for help to remedy my desperate and embarrassing situation.  She heads down to the river with some hip waders.  The first one makes it across no problem, the second one rebounds off a tree branch and lands in the fast flowing water.  The fence man arrives back at the river just in time to see the two of us frantically chasing the boot along the banks.  Finally, the golden retriever comes to the rescue, jumps in and retrieves the boot.  We're back to square one with how to get across the river.  As soil man records his measurements I decide to risk a soaker in hopes of regaining a little of my dignity.  I amble my way onto a branch which promptly dislodges itself from the shore and drops me into the river.  I trudge across through the water anyhow noting just how cold the river is in March.  This leaves soil man, one dog and goat still stranded across the river.  After a few more hopeless attempts at bridge construction he declares he will just walk around back to the road through my other neighbour's field.  'Don't worry, I'll bring your goat' he calls out as he heads off.  At this point I'm wet, cold, and almost ready to die of embarrassment.  After quickly changing my clothes back at the house, I drive my truck over to where he'll come out at the road and casually offer him a ride back as he emerges (goat and puppy close behind).  He declines the ride (probably because he thinks I'm a lunatic by this point) and walks back.  I wrestle goat and puppy into the back of the truck and head home.  Of course the goat jumps out of the truck as we near the laneway, we've come way too far for her to be cooperative at this point.  I drag her back to the barn, explaining all the way just how tasty she might be for dinner if she keeps this up.  Soil man is very polite as he bids me farewell and promises to send me a quote for my fencing needs.  I have a feeling I may never hear from him again.  Just another day on the farm I guess.

GE alfalfa- a worrisome time for organic farmers

It's a worrisome time for organic farmers in Canada.  In January, the USDA de-regulated the use of genetically modified alfalfa, allowing its unrestricted planting throughout the United States.  The issue is now at the forefront for Canadian farmers as the House of Commons works towards a decision on the same issue.  To date, there are a handful of GE crops that have been approved for use in Canada including GE corn, soybeans, canola, and sugar beet.  These GE cash crops all present somewhat of a threat to the integrity of organic farms but the possible introduction of alfalfa brings a whole new set of concerns.  For one, alfalfa is a perennial commonly grown in pastures used to feed livestock, which means it is around for several years and able to produce viable seed that can contaminate organic pastures.  Here at reroot organic farm, we pasture-raise all of our livestock which means we would be susceptible to contamination from neighbouring farms choosing to grow GE alfalfa.  Secondly, alfalfa is pollinated by bees and other insects which increases the risk of contamination as bees travel from field to field collecting nectar and distributing pollen.  Although there is no research that I've found documenting the effects of GE alfalfa on honey bees, as a beekeeper this is also a major concern.  In recent years it's been challenging enough to keep our bees healthy and the unknown effects of these modified crops on the well-being of our important pollinators should be a concern to all who eat.  Finally, alfalfa is a legume which can be planted to help fix nitrogen in the soil.  Organic farmers commonly plant legumes to add fertility to their soils in lieu of the chemical fertilizers used in conventional agriculture.  If GE alfalfa is approved and the seed sources of alfalfa become contaminated with the modified gene, this will effectively remove alfalfa as a possible crop on organic farms. 

On Thursday, March 10, the House of Commons Agriculture Committee will vote on a new Liberal Party motion for a moratorium on the approval of GM alfalfa. Your actions before March 10 could make this moratorium happen.

If this issue concerns you, please take time to contact your MP in the next couple days.  Information can be found on the Canadian Biotechnology Action Network (CBAN) website http://www.cban.ca/alfalfa.