A taste of self-sufficiency
This autumn we kept busy with extending our animal husbandry and were almost overwhelmed with brambles, apples, pears and nuts from the orchard… We clearly need to be better prepared next harvest.
Paul vs. Elvis: When it turned out that little Elvis wasn’t being that successful with the goat ladies we had to look for a plan B. Size doesn’t matter but stamina and charisma clearly are crucial factors in goat reproduction and we were lucky to be allowed to borrow Paul from a nearby farm/petting zoo. It was interesting to witness first-hand how behaviour is very much related to social learning and imitation: Elvis who hadn’t been very self-confident or expressive with the goats before, picked up a few tricks from Paul in a couple of hours (sticking out his tongue and harassing the ladies quite satyr-like). Unfortunately for him Paul had now fully taken on the job and was set on getting rid of competitors. We had to put Elvis in the adjoining sheep pasture for his own safety: he was interfering too much with Paul’s court-making to Ursule, resulting in general confusion and conflict (even the male lambs decided this was a good time to gang-up against him). Paul turned out to be a real Casanova, and we noticed that goat courtship is a lot more romantic than with sheep, with a lot of cuddling and serenading, not mentioning the use of musk… One could almost say that goats are a pretty feminist species, taking the crucial decision when they ‘feel ready’ and even taking matters in their own hands: Paquerette jumped the fence to join Elvis after all, to make sure that she would be having a good pick of genes for her offspring.
Poultry party: In September we acquired two Indian Runner Ducks (Laufenten/Coureurs Indiens), Ferdinand and Alfred, who are supposed to specialise in the eradication of slugs, characterised by their upright ‘running’ position. They make a funny pair, quacking (or rather ‘meck’-ing) incessantly, both curious and quickly scared, retreating to the little pond in our garden at the smallest sign of mayhem.
Next came our six ‘poulettes’, two french Marans (from the little town of Marans, who should lay dark brown eggs), two ‘Silberblaue Königsberger’ (literally silver-blue from Kaliningrad) and two ‘Deutsche Sperber’ (literally éperviers allemands /German Sparrow hawk). They are a lot of fun to watch as they explore every bush in the garden in a little group or file, chit-chatting and commenting upon everything. They are very curious as well and like to follow me around, especially if I work in the vegetable patch, but head back to their dormitory as soon as it darkens. The French saying, „se coucher avec les poules“ (go to sleep with the chicken, i.e. early), fully makes sense now…
They adopted Hannes’ splendid chicken palace, painted in Nordic red, at once (who wouldn’t…). And of course we have already proudly savoured our own eggs! Probably one of the easiest and most satisfactory things you can do in life.
Blood and tears: We’ve ‘successfully’ passed, one of the self-provider’s trials that I was dreading most: slaughtering two of our lambs. I went through a strenuous internal moral debate during the weeks leading to that date, and at some point it almost felt as if it were worse to kill an animal you have reared and cared about… on the other hand I felt I owed it to the lambs to be there and possibly to be a familiar presence to them during their last moments. (To farmers well-versed in eating their own animals, this may sound pretty ridiculous, but there is a first time for everything…) I think all meat-eaters should be able to deal with the reality that underlies their meat consumption, in order to fully value (and earn) what they are eating. It may sound a bit extreme, but perhaps people would eat less meat, or at least more respectfully produced meat, if children were made to visit slaughterhouses… So I tried to be brave, I didn’t cry or faint, and everything was done respectfully, swiftly and calmly together with the professional butcher that we had asked for help. It was even a bit scary how a life that you have taken so much time to bring about and care for can be taken so easily. Which again makes me think it is a good thing to be confronted to death in such a direct way and to remember to cherish life.
A taste of self-sufficiency: Okay, so enough now with the emotional and metaphysical farm discourse The great thing about all of this, is being able to enjoy a meal that you have entirely (!) grown yourself (except for the olive oil, salt and pepper). Lamb liver or filet, home-grown potatoes and vegetables (kale, onions, endives, beans), a red-currant chutney, and some apple-pear juice from the orchard! How strange that this should be so exceptional. We’ve started fermenting some of our apple-pear-quince juice to make wine as well. We’ll know how that went in a couple of months…