Earmuff-less in a world of mandrakes

I’m cozy and tucked away in my pink trailer now but I still feel a bit shaken. Just minutes ago I was being charged at by an angry mother pig with a squealing piglet squirming in my hand. It was high time for the three barrows to be castrated so yesterday we called the local hog farmer, Chris, to come give us a tutorial. While we were all biting our nails nervously, he arrived casually holding only a metal bowl, some clippers, and a blue bottle of disinfectant. After chatting for a few minutes we strolled over to the pig pens where Julie and her three piglets were napping. Here, we faced our biggest challenge: getting the piglets away from the mother without losing a limb.

So far out of all the farm animals I’ve been around I have come to a solid conclusion that pigs are definitely the scariest of all. With this in mind, I decided to let Hallie climb in with the 900lb charging sow and stayed outside the pen to receive the piglets as she began the long process of having to trap them one by one. Good thing she had already spent time working in the Swine Unit at Chico State, because she at least had an idea of how to handle the pigs (Who would have guessed it’s easiest to carry piglets by their hind legs?). But anyway, after a few narrow escapes from Julie, she managed to grab the piglets and hoist them quickly over the pen into our waiting arms.

With one hefty piglet shrieking and squirming in my grip, I was immediately reminded of the scene in Harry Potter when Harry, Ron and Hermione are working with the mandrakes in Professor Sprout’s class. If only I had had some earmuffs like they had in the movie…But no, life moved on without the earmuffs and Chris showed us effortlessly how to cut open the piglets. With two deep incisions, he reached in and squeezed each testicle out until they slithered out of the hole he had cut. After all three had been castrated, we lifted the barrows back in with their mother who sniffed them all over carefully.

Now, my friends, we must part ways. It is weird to be back in my street clothes but here I am, wearing normal jeans and the one nice sweater I brought with me. I am about to drive home for the weekend -- so until Monday, adieu!

 

Destined for the chopping block.

On the farm, so much happens in one day that it’s hard to remember everything you did even if it was just a few hours ago. I had almost forgotten to write about another escaping animal incident that happened earlier in the day. Before lunch I was heading back to my trailer to shed a layer of clothing when I looked over at the pigs and noticed one of the piglets running around on its own. I went over to see what was going on and saw that two of the farm dogs had already spotted the problem and were herding the piglet my way from the other side. I leaned down to grab him and accidentally let him go when I heard the horrid screeching noises he immediately started making. My ears must have been in shock because this irritating noise exponentially increased the already existing noises that Julia (mama pig) was making from inside her pen, screaming and banging angrily against the wood. Luckily, Caitlin came over just in time and the poor terrified piglet, cornered from all sides, squeezed his way back through the cracks in the wood making it back to his mother.

 

I’m already looking forward to another exiting pig day because we’re going to have to castrate all three piglets tomorrow.

I'm both excited and nervous to watch this happen because these days the piglets are looking oh so cute and it's hard to think of having to do that to them. Unfortunately this is not all they will have to go through since they are already technically on death row. Having been on farms for long enough now, I have learned that anytime an animal is preggers you have to just cross your fingers and hope it's a girl or else, certain death. 

Day 4

To fill everyone in, there are two other interns here besides me: Alex, the 20 year old from Massachusetts and Joe, the 30-year-old architecture student. Right now Alex has two friends, Caitlin and Brian, who are here visiting for ten days. Caitlin is a senior at Barnard this year and the two of us have grown pretty close in this short span of time. It will be strange to see her go since I will then be left in the midst of a boy-dominated world but maybe I will see her next year in New York if she decides to stay there. It’s really fun to work with her because we have a lot in common so we have a good time sharing stories and experiences while we get our work done. Because today was a slow day we spent most of the day cleaning together.

The two boys haven’t done the best job at keeping everything clean since Rachel left so when we arrived the kitchen was pretty revolting (to say the least). Mostly we scrubbed surfaces and tackled the giant chaos of mason jars into a somewhat manageable system. For lunch we provided dessert by baking two batches of mouth-watering chocolate chip cookies. After lunch we took on the even more daunting project of going through the walk in freezer in the crew kitchen. Because this was the freezer that was used for the Hoes Down Harvest Festival back in October, most of the food in there was moldy and complètement dégoutant. Needless to say, it was quite the accomplishment: Dru even gave us five gold stars on our imaginary chore charts. Haha. Though in my humble opinion, we should have gotten more like a lifetime of gold stars.

Apart from the stale bagels, old yogurt, coagulated olive oil, moldy cheese, bucket full of rotting olives, old tahini sauce and nasty ketchup, the most exciting part of the day was without a doubt the cow getaway. In the midst of our cleaning, Cailtin and I were crossing the yard to hose some dirty buckets off when all of a sudden Ushi, Betty and Mapache came tearing into vision. In hot pursuit, Dru came running behind shouting at us to catch them. I jumped at Ushi the calf, who was the only one with a lead rope on and handed her away to be taken back to her pen. With two cows still left to capture, Caitlin, Hallie and I set off down the driveway behind Mapache and her calf. Then seeing that they weren’t going in the desired direction, Paul quickly jumped in the Kubota to herd them toward the pens. Gaining an advantage, Hallie and I then grabbed at Mapache in hopes that Betty would follow her. We struggled against the force of the full-grown cow but Paul confidently took her from us and began to lead her away. With one swift movement though Mapache knocked him on his back and not wanting to let go, he was dragged through the grass. Hallie caught up and took her back, successfully leading her in to the pen with a bucket of grain. Betty followed her mother soon after with just a little coaxing. Moral of the story: now I know I will be very careful the next time I decide to take one of the calves on a walk!

 

P.S. I’m starting to lose track of the days, today I was baffled multiple times by the fact that tomorrow is already Friday…

Mission: Midnight Chicken Trapping

I stumble my way through the muddy driveway to my trailer, tonight there are no stars. Last night I can remember lingering outside longer than normal to stare at the brightest stars I’ve seen in a while. But today a thick layer of clouds hung in the sky all day. The clouds didn’t make an exception for the sun and it appears they don’t intend to make an exception for the stars either. My trailer is cold when I get in but I go straight to the HeatDish that warms the sleeping area and turn on the Christmas lights that instantly make the whole room cozy.

I feel my hands, they are starting to get tougher and my nails are now caked with a healthy layer of chicken grime. I've just come in the door from a chicken trapping extravaganza. Tonight our mission was to get the pullets accustomed to their new trailer. Long after nightfall when they were all huddled together in their makeshift pens, eight of us went out to ambush them. With our headlights beaming paths of light infront of us we chased the few loose chickens around, cornering them until we could grab them. Then, three people went inside the mesh pens to trap the bulk of the hens. One by one, they were passed down an assembly line of people by their feet and handed to the five of us who would shuttle them 20 yards away into the trailer. With two chickens dangling from each hand and all sorts of chicken dirtiness dripping from our fingers we walked through the dark and placed them carefully on the floor of the trailer. Stunned form the hypnotic journey they would lay there stupefied for a while until they could get their bearings and stand sleepily. At the beginning, I felt each of the four chickens I was holding, aware of their movements and differences. By the 300th chicken, I was significantly more desensitized, the scaly feet felt all the same to me. Nevertheless the novelty never quite wore off, every time I made another trip to the trailer I watched in awe at the mass of chickens that covered the floor. After a few trips some chickens even began to get the idea and move up to the rafters.

Day 3

Today I dealt with more animals in the morning. First milking and egg collecting, then feeding animals. My favorite to feed is the little calf (Ushi) who was just weaned from her mother. After milking, we bring her back a whole gallon of her mother’s creamy, fresh milk and she slurps it down in a few seconds. Then she spends a few minutes with her head stuck in the pail trying to lick the last drop from the bottom. After her dose of milk we toss her a flake of hay and she stares at it in disgust. The other calf (Betty) who is two weeks younger, is already proudly starting to eat hay with her mother (Mapache).

The afternoon was spent mostly pruning. Despite the frost that withered all the leaves, the lemon verbena is pungent as ever, almost as good as the wreath room (!).

After the aromatherapy session with the lemon verbena, I spent a few hours in the greenhouse sorting hot chili peppers with the crew. Spending time with them I can really notice how rusty my Spanish has become. I find myself stuck on some vocabulary words that have over the years snuck back into the deep recesses of my brain. (How do you say "hinge" again?) I love their company though -- they know so much about the different scenes of farm life and about the vegetables and fruits. Most importantly, we get to share an integral part of farm life, listening to terrible Mexican radio together. 

Neighbors

Pinky

These are a few of my favorite things

So far, I’ve figured out that collecting eggs at this farm isn’t quite as fun as I had remembered. However, I have figured out two things that I do like very much:

First, is the pirate chicken that escaped the coop and now lives in a grove of bamboo. I am thinking that a name is definitely in order but I haven’t thought of a good one yet. So far the best I’ve come up with is “chicken-that-is-followed-by-a-loud-peeping-noise” because you can easily find her if you follow the noises coming from her new chick that is never more than five inches away. Maybe I should just give them both one name, “the-pair-that-can-make-even-scrooge-smile.”

My other favorite thing is the wreath room. On the outside, the wreath room is only a large wooden shack. But step in, and it smells like heaven. Inside the walls are covered in wreaths and from the ceiling hang hundreds of flowers and herbs in bunches. The wreaths have taken hours to make by hand, crafted by the flower ladies who sit inside on rainy days to weave the plants together. Now I know when I need a pick-me-up, I can just stick my head inside to get a whiff.

Day 2

Today was a very chicken-y day. I started my day with mostly animal chores: milking and feeding cows and then collecting and cleaning eggs. Collecting eggs on this farm is not really the same as collecting eggs at Pie Ranch. In Pescadero, I was always the first one to volunteer myself for egg collecting and relished those last few moments of sun when I would go from one coop to the other with my basket in hand. I suppose the reason I don’t like it as much here is because the Full Belly hens are older and much more crotchety. The first time I stuck my hand under one it made loud screeching noises and pecked repeatedly at my hand. Needless to say, since then I have learned harsher methods. Now every time I come up to a mean looking hen I quickly use my other hand to hold her head back so she can’t attack. I guess what it boils down to is that the Pie Ranch chickens were much less caring about their eggs, they weren’t “mother hens” like they were supposed to be. There, they seemed only mildly curious when you stuck your hand under them to grab at their treasures. Here, collecting eggs seems more like stealing.

After my morning of thievery, my next project was ironically to help facilitate others’ stealing. I spent the day hanging a (human) door to the brand new chicken trailer where the new pullets will soon start laying eggs for us to harvest. The door was my second official construction project, but unlike the planter from a few weeks ago this project took much longer than expected. What I had believed to be a two-hour job ended up taking Rebecca and me an entire day! To our credit, the builders (*cough* Joe and Alex *cough*) neglected to level the frame completely so our job was inundated with headaches. Despite all these complications, after a full day of assorted doorknobs and power drills, we finally finished and the door now closes perfectly…And now, some day soon I will be able to use this door to collect baskets and baskets of fresh eggs.

Full Belly: Day 1

Today was surprisingly much more low key than expected. Last night I spent hours in my room surrounded by piles of clothing, but so far packing has been way more stressful than actually being here. With a frost still looming in recent history, the farm is moving slowly and stiffly.

Since my departure in the fall, things have mostly stayed the same here. The most noticeable change is the new office building that is starting to look more and more like an actual office than a skeleton of a building. Besides the construction, the only other change is my new abode and the three new neighbors that come along with it. My new home is a dusty old abandoned pink trailer behind the barn. But after only a few hours of work, I think I am finally moved in! I spent a long time getting rid of dust and cobwebs – which will undoubtedly return sooner than I would like them to due to the vast number of spidery friends I live with – and now the space is totally livable.

Even though it’s only been a few hours, I already have two suspicions. First, I have the feeling I will spend most of my time in my bedroom area because even though it’s only a trailer, it still feels really big to live here by myself. Also, I have the inkling that I am going to become very good at tuning out pig noises. Just five feet from the door of my trailer are two stalls with five full-sized pigs in them. Five very loud full-sized pigs, to be more accurate. To make this even better, one of the sows gave birth to three piglets around Christmas so soon enough the chorus of squeals will be almost doubled. Note: I realize that this can easily be perceived as sarcasm but I thought I should set the record straight and say that I actually do enjoy living next to the pigs (thus far).

I can already tell I am going to grow fond of this trailer.