Wing-nut

Can you tell which one of these piglets is not like the others?

Probably not.  

Now can you?

Wingnut, a few months ago

Well, the reasons one of our castrated male piglets can give our baby a lesson on the birds and the bees is because he wasn't willing to let go of all his male-hood, and that will sadly lead to his early demise.

When we castrated the males to prevent boar taint in their meat, one of the boys didn't go so softly into the night...try as we could, we couldn't find one of his testicles. It hadn't descended. And upon even closer inspection, we determined it was so far up his stomach that it would be more dangerous to dig around and try to pop it out than to just leave it. Frankly, it isn't really "dangerous" to leave this one-nut wonder at all, it just makes his date with the butcher a little earlier. Because in order to avoid the prospect of having boar taint in his meat, we will have to slaughter this little guy several months earlier than his littermates - per the vet's recommendation, at around 4 months instead of 7, since that is when he starts producing more testosterone. 

He can still cohabitate with the girls since the testicle is so far into his gut that the temperature kills any productive semen, but he is still producing hormones, so he is much friskier than the rest. He has already led a mutiny and crossed over the litter lines to try his luck with older girls, but they all laugh him off. Wingnut.

Well, the months passed so quickly and all of a sudden, we realized that we are at the date. Poor Wingnut. We're going to keep him for ourselves since we're not sure how his meat will be affected by the testosterone; so there is no need to take him to a USDA slaughterhouse. Since he's young-ish and small-ish, we'd prefer he have as peaceful a dispatch as possible - here at the farmlet. So we're making plans and perhaps we should feel sad or bad, but we feel good about the life we've given him, and he'll be off to a place where his meat will put food on our table and his spirit will have two nuts and plenty of frisky sows to play with. 

We'll keep you posted...

Beauty and The Beast(s)

Is a pig beautiful?

Well, one can hardly argue that a rainbow isn't beautiful.

And Dave thinks that a tractor is a thing of beauty.

So, yes, I think there are few things as beautiful as day to day country life.

A watched pot never boils

The three ladies (Lola, Bubbles and Trixie) are taking a break in their own paddock after weaning out their piglets and before getting back together with Hef. Think of it as a Vegas weekend with the girls, but without the mani-pedis or, well, Vegas.

In all seriousness, this time off allows them to regain their strength and weight, and I like to think (as a fellow recent new mother) that it gives their body a respite from the demands of carrying babies and nursing them. Most operations only wait a single cycle before putting the girls back to work, but we are allowing them a much longer break of several months since we are a bit more empathetic (did I mention that I'm a new mother?). 

Lola and Trixie are rebounding as expected, but Bubbles is looking a bit skinny, so we decided to make sure that she wasn't suffering from worms of any kind. Worms are one of the few common parasites that can affect otherwise healthy, pasturing livestock - understandable since worms live in the ground and thrive on healthy soils. They are easy to remedy, but you want to catch them early. 

We figured we'd test all three of the girls, as long as we were at it, but the only way to do so is to take a stool sample, and, of course, identify which poop belongs to which pig. While not a very appealing task, you'd think it would be pretty easy, right? I mean, what does a pig do other than eat, sleep, play a little and poop? A full 1/4 of the day must be dedicated to crapping.

What goes in, must come out

So Dave dutifully went out to collect the samples, labeled ziploc baggies in hand. I expected him back at the house in 5 minutes. 

But then 10 minutes, 20 minutes, 30 minutes passed...

Dave sat out there, watching and waiting. The piglets pooped. Hef pooped. A chicken waddled right up to him and pooped. But the girls just ate, asked for a rub, drank and...no poop. 

It was starting to get dark and the situation was past ridiculous, so Dave did what our country vet had suggested in the first place. He put a gloved finger right up where the sun don't shine. Bubbles didn't make a peep. Nothing. He rubbed the finger around, venturing a little deeper. Once again contemplated how it came to be that he was sitting in a pasture at sunset with his finger up a pig's ass. And all he came out with was a hot, clean finger. The sad thing was, it came out cleaner than it was when it went in.

And then, finally, as if satisfied that an itch was scratched, or that the joke on Dave had been played, all three girls pooped at once. And poor Dave scurried to pick up hot, steaming poop, fresh out of the oven, from the backsides of three >250 lb. pigs while the last vestiges of daylight faded. And people wonder why changing diapers doesn't faze him.

Update on Sat, September 3, 2011 by mauifarmlet

By the way - turns out none of the girls have worms. They are happy and healthy - just a little more hungry after nursing the piglets. Sheesh, pigs are...pigs.

To Donkey or Not To Donkey

This is Bob, the donkey. I don't know if his name is actually Bob (I would venture to guess it's not), but that's what Dave and I always called him when we drove by him at his ranch on O'ahu every day on our way home.

Bob the donkey shared a pasture with several rodeo horses and a huge, white Brahma bull. But guess who ruled the ranch? Bob.

He stood there tall and proud, and looked like he belonged. It was all about attitude. It was hard not to become enamored with Bob.

I swore that one day, when we had a farm of our own, we would have our own Bob. I even made Dave come with me to visit a miniature donkey farm in California, and I think he melted there:

When we finally found our farmlet, I thought it was just a matter of time before we brought home a donkey.

But there is a problem. We had made the decision that every animal on the farmlet has to serve a purpose, whether that be food or income. Chunk would be the only allowed exception, although we make excuses that he is a "farm dog"; in truth, he serves the sole purpose of entertainment. And, of course, he's a member of the family.

But a donkey - what would be it's purpose?

First, I said he would be a guard donkey. Don't laugh. As a matter of fact, donkeys are excellent guard animals and several goat farms on Maui whose herds were being decimated by wild dogs or theft found that problem ceased with the installation of donkeys in their pastures. Unlike horses, when donkeys are afraid, they don't become skittish, they attack. A swift hoof kick generally solves any threat to a goat (or pig) herd. The only problem would be if Chunk got underfoot (which he is likely to do).

So, then I figured he could be our pack animal. Carting around the various gardening supplies, pig and chicken feed, etc. Dave rolled his eyes at me for that suggestion. We have a 4WD ATV with a large, tilting bed, so he wondered why I was pretending to be Amish all of a sudden. I needed an excuse to have my donkey!

Another logical reason would be to keep the grass down in our pastures. We had worried about overworking the land with the pigs on pasture, but we've found that our land is very fertile and conscientious grazing management enables our grass to grow back too much in between rotations. Some of the grass is thus a little older and less palpable/nutritious by the time the pigs rotate back to each section, so we need an herbivore to rotate in between the pigs to keep the grass at the optimal height/growth rate. But then you have a case where energy (grass) is being put IN, and you aren't taking any energy (meat) OUT. For that, we should get a cow. And we probably will.

But my heartstrings were tugged when I found that there is a group shipping wild Kona nightingales interisland. "Nightingales?!" you may ask "I thought you were writing about donkeys?". Well, back in the day, the Kona coffee plantations used to use donkeys to haul sacks of coffee beans, and they would bray to each other at night, so they earned the nickname "Kona Nightingales". When ATVs and trucks took over their jobs, several donkeys were left to roam, and now a pretty large herd of wild donkeys has taken over parts of West Hawaii. So, similar to wild mustangs, they are now being rounded up, neutered, and distributed to wannabe donkey owners everywhere. I was VERY close to going against all logic and claiming one. I got even closer when they sent me a picture:

Sigh.

But do you know how long donkeys live? Almost 40 years. Yup. Now that's a commitment. And it's one thing to ask someone to dog-sit. But donkey-sit? 

And between Dave, Chunk and myself, you can really only have so many asses on the farmlet.

Limu wawae'iole

There are tons of edible seaweeds (limu) from the oceans of Hawaii. I've written before about how, at one time, there were over 70 different species referred to in the Hawaiian language. Limu wawae'iole is particularly popular here on Maui, and you can tell by the commitment of the early morning "limu farmers" who speckle the beach at dawn during the months of Summer.

Limu wawae'iole only comes ashore intermittently, usually after a stormier sea the evening before, as it is dislodged from the reefs just offshore. Limu pickers have their favorite beaches and show up at first morning light with bags and buckets, smiles and family.

 

While limu wawae'iole is best eaten within 10 days, it can stay refrigerated indefinitely, so most of the edible limu is picked from shore each morning. It's a healthy practice, since the limu would otherwise go to waste and rot on the sand. Often times, limu is sent interisland to family members, as well.

It's tasty with octopus (tako) and onions, or you can try it teri-style with the recipe below:

TERIYAKI-STYLE LIMU WAWAE'IOLE

1/2 lb. limu wawae'iole
3/4 C prepared teriyaki sauce
1-1/2 T sesame seeds
1/2 C green onion, chopped
Wash and clean the limu in fresh water, drain well. chop into 2-inch lengths. Mix with teriyaki sauce, sesame seeds, and green onions.

Mainly, I like limu because it tastes like the sea. The subtle ocean flavor, in small quantities, brings the taste of saltwater, sun and sand to your lips.