Rabbit Poop Tea

As John walked through the kitchen yesterday, I just casually mentioned, "Hey, I've got buckets of rabbit poop tea steeping over by the hose, if you're wondering what that is.  Please don't pour it out."  He just stopped and gave me a very grave look, "Those are words I don't ever want to hear put together again." 

Yep, he's a funny guy.  Sometimes I need someone to ground me and remind me that I'm not normal.  I've grown so accustomed to our little farming life, that those words didn't seem so strange to me.  Without reminders like that from John, I might go blabbing at Mom group about how my rabbit's poop has done wonders for my tomatoes and really gross some folks out.  Some of what happens in the backyard just isn't to be discussed among polite society.  Luckily for me, this blog is designed to be about the goings on of our backyard, so if reading about rabbit poop tea is just too gross for you, click back tomorrow for an astounding garden veggie pasta recipe (you don't have to think about what fertilized the veggies atop our pasta unless you want to  ;).

Rabbit poop is an excellent fertilizer that doesn't have to break down or compost before being added to the garden.  That is, after all, why we first decided to bring Cocoa Puff to our home.  But, the poo pebbles themselves take awhile to break down in the soil, and thus it takes awhile for the plants to reap the benefits of the fertilizer.  The trick is to get the rabbit poo into a form that is more easily absorbed by the plants' root systems -- liquid.  One gardener touting the benefits of rabbit poop tea (more politely referred to as rabbit manure tea -- although I hardly think that makes it more palatable a concept) called it "rocket fuel" for the garden. 

Here's what I did.  I used two of John's old t-shirts (ones with yellowed pits -- could this blog entry get any more disgusting?) and cut them up so as to create two big rags from each t-shirt.

Then, I gathered 4 big buckets and some rubberbands . . .

 . . . and made my way over to the rabbit poop tub.

I placed a big scoopful of poo in the center of each rag and tied them up with the rubberbands.

I placed the "tea bags" into the pails and filled them with water.  The sun will do the rest of the work, steeping the tea all day long.  I'll let them steep for a day then use the tea to water the garden. 

If you have a worm bin or compost pile that is ready for use, you can brew a worm castings tea or compost tea in the same way.  Your garden will thank you.

There are a lot of things I've enjoyed about gardening organically.  One of them is definitely learning creative ways to tend the garden.  Organic gardening has become mainstream enough that I could just drive to Home Depot and buy some "organic fertilizer," but I enjoy being able to make use of what we have on hand and participate in the cycle that takes the carrot to the rabbit, then the rabbit's poop back to the garden where it's used to grow yet another carrot. ;)

Zucchini Boats

"Are they like ants on a log?" my kids wanted to know.  Well, not exactly.  So, what is it?  This is perhaps the yummiest zucchini recipe yet!  And, it spruces up plain-'ole zucchini with the addition of summer-sweet cherry tomatoes!  This was also my first opportunity to use the goat milk mozzarella I slaved over for an entire morning last week -- if I do not get quicker and better at making it, I vow never again to complain about the cost of semi-soft/hard cheeses.

1. Cut your zucchini in half lengthwise and trim a little off the bottoms so that the boats don't rock while in the baking dish.

2. Scoop out the center where the seeds are with a spoon.

3.  Brush the surface with a mixture of crushed garlic, olive oil, salt, and pepper.

4. Arrange halved cherry tomatoes into the grooves and sprinkle with bread crumbs.

5.  Bake in a 350-degree oven for 30-40 minutes, until desired tenderness is reached.

6.  Remove from oven and place shredded mozzarella in between the tomatoes.  Place under the broiler for 3-5 minutes, until cheese is golden and bubbling.

7.  Sprinkle with grated Paremsan and serve!.

Doesn't that look delicious!

Homemade Yogurt Popsicles

Are you hot yet?  These popsicles are a great way to cool off without all the guilt involved with traditional syrupy, sugary popsicles.  Sweetened with honey and fruit and full of the probiotic properties of yogurt, this is an all-natural snack you can feel good feeding to your kiddos (and enjoying yourself)!

This yummy recipe comes from another blog I read (you should check it out; she really does a great job!)

Step 1:  Gather your ingredients --

1 c. yogurt (store-bought or homemade from your dairy goat's milk . . . you know, whichever ;)

1/4 c. honey

1 lb. fresh fruit (we used strawberries and cherries)

1 Tbs. vanilla (optional)

Plastic popsicle molds

Step 2:  Dump ingredients into a food processor or blender and process/blend until smooth.   (As pictured, I used a food processor, but, in hindsight, I'd recommend a blender because it's easier to pour out of -- see photo below).

Step 3:  Pour into your popsicle molds (then clean up the mess, if you're as messy in the kitchen as I tend to be).

Step 4:  Freeze for a few hours, then enjoy with a cutie pie like the one pictured here.  :)

Note: Don't expect these to taste as sweet as your last sugar-laden popsicle.  If they aren't sweet enough for your liking, try subbing in 1/2 can of fat free sweetened condensed milk for the honey next time.

Please Send Rain!

To say that the ground is dry is an understatement.  The burn ban means there were no fireworks here to celebrate the Fourth.  The school marquee is requesting that residents do a rain dance.  Our pastor spent a significant portion of his Pastoral Prayer requesting rain from above.  I even washed my car (which I never do) in hopes that doing so would bring on the rain.

 Despite daily watering, my potted plants are about to give out, and the vegetable garden is dangerously dry.  The "pastured" chickens are basically being moved from one dry, crusty patch of earth to another each day.  And the goats are taking dust baths as their once beautiful pasture is turning brown.
Our water bill, which came today, was more than double our average amount.  In short, the rain is needed. 

Last summer, then-7-year-old Girl 1 and I sang Nichole Nordeman's "Gratitude" as a special in church.  I've been singing the first verse in my head all week:

Send some rain
Would You send some rain?
'Cause the earth is dry
And needs to drink again.
And the sun is high,
And we are sinking in the shade.

Would You send a cloud,
Thunder long and loud?
Let the sky grow black and send some mercy down.
Surely You can see that we are thirsty and afraid.

This much of the song is easy to sing -- a petition for God to mercifully meet our needs.  It's the part that follows that is more difficult to take. . .

Or, maybe not.
Not today.
Maybe You'll provide in other ways.
And, if that's the case.
We'll give thanks to You with gratitude
For lessons learned in how to thirst for You.
How to bless the very sun that warms our face,
If you never send us rain.

Much more difficult, huh?  Many of us are okay with God telling us to "wait" for the rain in our lives (be it literal or figurative).  But, can we thank Him even if His answer is just plain "no"?  if He has plans for us that just don't include the merciful rain that we think we need?

So, I continue to offer my whispered pleas for rain (among other things) as I go about my quiet, morning chores outside, knowing that He hears each word.  But, even as aI pray, I do so acknowledging that no matter how He may choose to answer, He is due all praise.

Why Didn't I Knock on Some Wood?

Some of you may remember this post about how well-behaved our new dog Dexter has been since his arrival.  I mentioned how he has NOT chewed up our shoes, dug in my garden, or frightened the laying chickens.  Ummmm.  Apparently, he was just on his best behavior as he got settled in.

Check out these shoes!  Yep.  He destroyed two pairs of outdoor shoes, mine and John's.  Now, we have revised our system and keep them just inside the back door rather than just outside the door.  Oh, and he buries things in my garden, namely his bone (apparently dogs really do that!).  And, he's taken to frightening the laying chickens to the extent that there are feathers everywhere, and, between the fear and the heat, the 5 chicken-flock has only produced 2 eggs per day for the past 3 days.  We've had to implement a no-eggs-for-breakfast-two-days-in-a-row rule.

And, still, despite all of this.  I think I may be falling for him!  I love the way he just follows me around the yard as I do my chores.  He sits with me in the garden pulling weeds.  He waits patiently in the milking shed as I milk Razz then walks with me back to the house.  And, then, just seeing how much joy he brings Girl 2 as they romp around the yard together is enough all on its own to make me love him.  John walked outside last night and stopped, in shock, "Ashley, you have a dog in your lap!"  He caught me.  We were having a bit of a moment.  :)

Compost Bin System is Complete

Lovely, isn't it? 

It's definitely not the most high-tech compost bin, but it gets the job done and cost us nothing.  We acquired the pallets a couple at a time.  In fact, the system began with three pallets, encompassing just one pile.  Last night, John affixed the last two pallets to make it a 3-bin system made up of 7 pallets all screwed together.  We figure this is all we'll need to keep us in year-round compost. 

The far-left bin is the newest.  All it has in it right now are the clippings from the squash plant that I cut away this morning.  This will now be the bin we fill with dryer lint, vegetable scraps, chicken poo, garden trimmings, etc. 

The middle bin has just been sitting for 4 months or so.  It is ready-to-use compost.  When we need to add some to the garden, we just scoop it out of this middle bin.

The far-right bin is the one we had been filling up (until yesterday).  Now, it will be allowed to sit and decompose for the next 4 months or so.  We will turn it periodically and be sure that it stays moist to speed decomposition. 

So, now that we have all three bins in place, the functions just rotate.  In 4 months, the far-left will be full and will become the one that is in the process of decomp, the middle will be empty and ready to be filled up, and the far-right will be decomposed and ready for use.

The Power of Choice

A couple months back, Little Boy and I accompanied Girl 1 on a class field trip to a local museum.  One of my favorite exhibits was on rural southern life during the Great Depression.  The tour guide asked the kids to imagine they lived on a farm during that time period and explained that they'd be responsible for milking the family cow, helping in the garden, and helping mom to make things like bread and soap.  All of this sounds so very familiar.  Interesting. 
The guide asked the kids if they knew what was used to make soap.  Girl 1 proudly raised her hand and said, "Milk!"  The guide didn't like that answer and corrected her with "Animal Fat."  Girl 1 winced.  But, she may have more experience with soap making than the tour guide, and at our house, we make lard-free soap that uses our goat milk.  Anyway, it got me to thinking that Girl 1 knows the answer to questions like that because a lot of what we do around here looks a lot like life then. 

There is, however, one very important difference:  CHOICE.

Ahh.  The power of choice. 

On days when John and I run in the morning, our routine looks like this:
5:15  alarm goes off
5:20  John leaves the house for his run while I milk the goat and process the milk
6:10  John tends to the chickens and goats while I hit the road for my run
7:00  we all sit down to breakfast together

And, even when we don't run, that alarm goes off at 5:15.  And, I don't hate it.  In fact, I really enjoy those quiet, early-morning milkings.  But, then, unlike the farmers "back in the day,"  I've made the choice to live like this.

The museum guide explained to us that, though  much work was involved in living on the farm during the Great Depression, those folks were actually quite fortunate as compared to their city-dwelling neighbors because they had means to support themselves through their farming lifestyles.  They had the skills necessary to "get by" in rough times.  They did have milk.  They did not have choice.  Is it any wonder that as the economy improved and technological advances offered a more leisurely lifestyle, our predecessors grasped the opportunity to, say, purchase sliced bread from the market?

If John and I should decide that 5:20AM milkings are not to our liking, we could quit it.  The goat would quit producing milk, and I could go right back to buying our milk at the grocery store.  If my zucchini plants don't produce or get eaten up by squash bugs, I can still have my stir fry.  It's just a grocery-store trip away.  Should I decide that baking our own bread is just too inconvenient, I can just add it to my shopping list.
And, isn't it true that choice is often closely linked to our enjoyment of an activity?  The kids love to do chores around here, so long as they feel they are the ones choosing to do them rather than being told to do them.  We get that warm, fuzzy feeling when we volunteer for a good cause because we CHOSE to do something good for someone else. 

As I teach myself to do things that my ancestors did as a matter of necessity, I recognize that choice is what separates us.  I am quite thankful for that gift.