The more things change, the mooo they stay the same.

We didn't need another cow. I knew that because Tom, Bessie and Rosebud had all agreed upon a congenial routine of daily greetings, meals, milking and tuckings in at night. The calves have settled happily into their new homes. Life was good. Everyone was happy.

Tom has one thing in common with his cows. He is happiest having a peaceful, predictable daily routine. The difference between them is that the cows have one, while Tom does not. Tom is married to me, and I am less content with this kind of serene existence than one with challenges, change and variety. This is a character flaw that even I get irritated with. But my most patient of husbands often ends up dealing with the interesting consequences of my varied interests. For example, this past year, he has mastered being a dairyman to two cows, though in all fairness, he was a willing partner in this recent exercise in self-sufficiency. But while our two cows had an orderly and routine year, Tom had to acquire a whole new career (though I think this makes about six).

About a month ago, I ran across a sales ad for a Miniature Jersey cow. I see these all the time, being a member of a number of internet lists pertaining to these small cows. But this one just "spoke" to me. Maybe it was the little white socks on her back feet, her small size or her unusual black color (she is part Dexter). But the upshot is that we decided that she would make an excellent, anniversary-Christmas-New Year's-Jorg's Birthday present, and Priscilla came to live with us.

Priscilla was not happy with this arrangement, being the only one not consulted about it. And she compensated for her small size with a large attitude. Her first week was spent doing an impressive Spanish bull impression every time you approached her paddock. But she has gradually come to realize that people here mean food and head scratches and a warm stall on cold nights. Bessie took her small size to mean that she was a calf, and our accomplished nurse cow immediately "adopted" her. Rosebud is frosty.

Priscilla is due to calve or "freshen" in April or early May. When she does, we will learn something new: how to deal with calves born with horns, as this calf will likely have them. In the meantime, we have all setttled in to the new farm routine. Until it changes. Spring is only two months away and it's hard to tell what the new year will bring. We still need to "introduce" Bessie and Rosebud to their mail-order husband. And try some new heirloom vegetables, and raise some new garden beds...we need new fruit trees....

Photo (L-R): Priscilla, Bessie and Rosebud

Say “Cheese”

Christmas Eve had finally arrived. It was time. Tom gathered up his nerve and bravely ventured down into the dark, scary basement to retrieve the item of so much curiosity and discussion during the past few months. We are talking, of course, about the Blue Stilton cheese that we have been aging in the downstairs refrigerator.

An annual tradition in our household during the holidays is to sit down with a wedge of English Stilton and a glass of port. Stilton is not easy to find in this country, and when you do, it is expensive. It’s a rare treat reserved for the holidays. One year, the entire wedge disappeared from its plate on the coffee table, after an unfortunate lapse in household security. That year, we discovered that Stilton is irresistible to dogs, who will cheerfully fight you for it.

It seemed silly to us to have such an abundant supply of fresh cream and milk and still buy Stilton. So, with the kind assistance of our friend, Pamela, we set out to make our own. The entire process is fairly complicated. But once the whey drains from your freshly created raw cheese, it is placed in a cool area to age and the horror begins. There are really no words to adequately describe the aging process, except to suggest that somewhere in the attic there was probably a portrait of a cheese getting younger. The molding object resembled a cheese corpse. In aging Stilton, you know you are on the right track if it smells like garbage. But you can’t be absolutely positive because garbage smells like garbage, too. Cutting into the cheese and actually eating it requires the suppression of several natural instincts that would otherwise cause you to back away, poke it with a stick or replace your entire refrigerator.

But we persevered. Armed with a knife, a box of Triscuits and a moderate amount of alcohol (for courage), we cut into our cheese and inhaled. We were rewarded with the aroma of a landfill on a hot summer’s day. But the taste was beautiful and we have, in fact, managed to produce a true Stilton. We haven’t perfected it, yet. We did not achieve the deep blue veining that a fully mature cheese should have. It probably would have benefited from aging an extra month, or from slightly higher curing temperatures. But this year, we will be sitting down to enjoy a Stilton produced on our farm, using milk from our own cows and a mold species that we actually invited.

We hope you had a Merry Christmas, too.

Looking Back - Looking Forward

Thank you to everyone who sent us cards and greetings for the holiday season. Our cards are still on the dining room table waiting to be written, addressed and sent. Not that we don't think of our family and friends at this time, on Christmas Day more than ever this year we will be toasting "Absent family and friends" and wishing them health and happiness in the New Year.

At this time of the year it is customary to look back at the events and draw conclusions for the future. Well, not much to write about there - financial world went a sleazy trick too far and the world went to hell in a hand basket! But, you can sigh with relief, that is not the theme of this post. Looking back over two Christmas's to when we first bought the farm, and the ups and downs of farm life for two farming novices since then has been a major eye-opener. Sure, we had come from a small farm and a 100 year-old Virginia farmhouse in northern Virginia, with a few horses, two barns and a pond, but that doesn't prepare you for doubling the acreage and number of horses, adding hens, sheep and, finally, bred cows. Not to mention the sundry cats and dogs, both family and inherited with the farm, the run down barns and windows hanging by a thread! Just an everyday story of homesteading, with a horse rescue thrown in for good measure. Ohh, and Jorg was working full time 2 hours away, and I was still being a hot shot consultant occasionally with my old Company (thank you Sue).
Triskelion Farm was born, and we came to appreciate a lot of the grumbles that farmers have, and the time and energy needed just to keep pace with the daily work. However, nothing worth doing, or having, comes easy, and the value in the healthy life style alone is imeasurable. The quiet, and less costly, elements of rural living were key reasons for moving here. But there are many other benefits, and whatever the uncertain future might bring embracing a farming way of life was a good move. Of course that is not what I said on Monday when the thermometer said 19 degrees (F not C!), the milker wouldn't work, and I had neglected to take the hoses off the standpipes and switch on the trough heaters! Nothing brings you down to earth quicker than 18 buckets and five troughs needing the services of a strong right arm and a hammer to break through the ice. That, and the fact that we were supposed to be going to North Carolina to pick up Priscilla the new mini-Jersey. Bad words were said in abundance, but everything was accomplished, albeit later than expected and Priscilla was duly lodged in her new temporary quarters prior to being introduced to Bessie and Rosebud (more of Priscilla in our next post).

Virginia weather is being particularly contrary this Winter, with more rain than we have had in two years (it seems like) and a range of temperatures from unseasonally high to the current lows. But, and it is a big but, we seem to be a pocket of tranquility compared to large parts of the rest of the US, so we have little to complain about really. Of course if I had been better prepared.........

So we see out another year with a range of new skills, and probably a healthier body than for many a year. It's been interesting and rewarding, and we wouldn't have it any other way. We are looking forward to what 2009 might bring with some trepidation, but also with a lot of hope, and we hope that all of you have a happy, healthy and safe New Year.

Congratulations Jon and Rosie - December 12th, 2008

All is not doom and gloom, there are good things to announce as well. On Friday 12th December my eldest son Jon, marries his long time partner Rosie in Mullingar, Westmeath, Ireland. Jorg and I would love to be there and join in with the celebration (and the craic will be awesome) but raising a glass (or two) here will have to suffice.

As I have said before, our children never really get older than teenagers in our minds, and as I have a hard job identifying the old visage I see in the mirror every morning, imagining Jay (as I still think of him from childhood) as a responsible adult is just as difficult! So Rosie gets our special thoughts today in taking on his hopeless pranks - like climbing out of his bedroom window and escaping to the pub (served him well in his rock climbing years, the wall not the pub - OK, maybe the pub as well!); picking up a bale of hay (from a load that had come off a tractor trailer in the road) and shoving it in the back of a friend's car so that Claudia could play horse games in the garden, and I then had to collect them from the local police station; making Claudia climb the 15 foot sea wall at the end of the Coastguard Cottages gardens if she wanted to play with him and Ben; picking him up after he got the sailing boat "Skipper" pushed into Cork Harbour by the tide (possibly the largest natural harbour in Europe!) trying to impress a girl with his sailing prowess. OK, that's probably enough marriage-day humiliation.

So Jonathan, good father and significant other, congratulations on finding a wonderful partner and wife in Rosie; and Rosie, congratulations on selecting my outstanding eldest son for your husband and life partner. May you have a day to remember and a long and loving marriage.

May the road rise up to meet you, may the wind be ever at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rain fall softly on your fields.
And until we meet again, May God hold you in the hollow of his hand.
(Irish Blessing).

All our love to you both, and to Aoife and Alex (and not forgetting Amy) from Jorg and I.

Annie Goes Home

Today was a big day in the short life of Annabelle Lee. After lots of chin scratches and advice about how to get along in the big old world (from Annie), she went to live with her new Mom, Pamela. Annie, as you remember, was the star of the video taken on July 18, in which she appeared seconds after her birth, and the calf who caused us such consternation when she refused to nurse from her mom.
The girls have been eating solid food for months now, and had been put up at night away from their moms. This past week, amid much bellowing and crying (ours, mostly), we separated them from their moms for good. So, they were fully weaned in preparation for this important step into adolescence. In the photos, Annie steps bravely into the trailer that will take her to her new home. Okay, maybe not too bravely, as step two took about 5 minutes, but she got there in the end.

There is nothing in the world more appealing than these tiny fawn-colored calves, and nothing more lovable than one raised with a bottle. It would be tempting to keep them all. But we know this isn’t feasible, and we also know that Annie’s loving personality will brighten the lives of her new family and everyone else who meets her.

On Monday, our newest canine resident, Cassie, went to visit the nice folks at Ridge Animal Hospital for some reproductive reorganization. As much as we love this little dog, we know that the shelters are overflowing with dogs just as sweet, and that bringing more of them into the world is just irresponsible. Thanks to Dr. Gates, Cassie sailed through her surgery and is now ready to enjoy a life free of heat cycles and aggravation.

And the winner of the contest to find Mr. Right is: “Son of Fat Louie” owned by Fonnie Thoman! Aside from the fact that we just love his name, this good-looking guy is everything we were looking for in a potential dad for our next calves. He is tiny (39 inches), refined, has a good temperament, and most important, is completely unrelated to Bessie and Rosebud. This last attribute isn’t as simple to find as you’d think, as the American Miniature Jersey Association Registry contains only about 700 members. So we have a call into the AI technician, some champagne chilling in the refrigerator and the complete collection of Barry Manilow ready to pop into the CD player.

We are hoping to introduce them (in a sort of clinical sense) in December. In the meantime, we will hang pictures of him in the girls' stalls and tell them stories about his feats of bravery and daring, while emphasizing that he is also very sensitive and a good listener.


Photo of Son of Fat Louie by Fonnie Thoman.

'Tis the Season

I’m not talking about Thanksgiving, which is known by its other name in the UK: “We Finally Got Rid of Those Troublemakers Day.” I am talking about Charitable Giving Season. So, I am going to take a moment (or maybe longer) to explain why you might want to consider our organization in your seasonal giving.

The White Bird Appaloosa Horse Rescue is a non-profit (501c3) organization that Tom and I founded in 2003. Before then, we had been involved in the rescue of companion animals, serving as rescue transporters. Just before Christmas 2002, a plea for help came across one of the Internet rescue lists we monitored. A family in southwest VA had lost their farm, and their two horses were without a place to go. The mare and gelding had been bred by this family and owned for 23 and 24 years, so this was devastating to them. After a discussion with the owner, we decided that we could take them in. So, the owners drove for four hours to deliver the pair to us the day after Christmas. The family was in tears over having to part with them, but some of those tears were tears of relief. PJ and Heather are shown in the photo above, which also includes our friend Cody Perry.

Up to that point, Tom and I had been fairly oblivious to the problems faced by horses and their owners in this country. Unlike those for companion animals, emergency shelters for horses are few and far between. That’s because horses take space, money, a lot of work and a specialized knowledge of equine behavior and disorders. You can’t just drive them to the SPCA and drop them off (not that we encourage that). So those without a place to go are often neglected by their owners in their own back yards, or worse, passed along until they end up in the hands of kill buyers, who then sell them to slaughterhouses. The White Bird Appaloosa Horse Rescue was created to provide emergency shelter for horses in urgent need, to provide medical, dental and hoof care, and to find them loving homes or permanent sanctuary. We decided to specialize in Appaloosas because we know and love them and because we felt that it was efficient to have a single point of contact between those needing to surrender these horses and the people looking for them. We have taken in many breeds, though, because our real priority is the need of the horse.

This year, like many charities, we are bracing for the fallout from the weak economy. We are receiving many calls from people who have lost their jobs or farms and cannot afford to keep their horses. At the same time, people worried about their finances have been more reluctant to donate money to charitable causes, so donations for the coming year will be less, while operating costs have continued to rise. For us, these are primarily feed, bedding and veterinary care. This rescue would never have managed to accomplish what it has without the support of many people. This past year, we were granted permanent non-profit status by the IRS, which was quite an accomplishment that we owe to many, many individuals. I am asking now for our friends who read this blog or have visited our rescue and met our horses to consider making a tax deductible contribution to help us continue rescuing urgent need horses through these difficult times.

It doesn’t need to be a lot to make a difference. For example:

$13.00 buys one bag of feed.
$15 will medicate a Cushing’s horse for a month
$20 will provide one hoof trim (this needs to be done every 6 weeks)

And its easy to do. Donations can be mailed to:

White Bird Appaloosa Horse Rescue
1688 Burkes Tavern Road, Burkeville, VA 2322

or Sent via Paypal to: wingsofangels57@yahoo.com
A convenient “donate” button is located on our web site at: www.whitebirdapps.com for this purpose.

White Bird is an approved member of the Commonwealth of Virginia Campaign, so state employees can designate donations through their paychecks, tax free. We are Charity #3388.

White Bird is also an approved charity of the Combined Federal Campaign of the National Capitol Area, and the Combined Federal Campaign, Central Region, so federal employees in these areas can donate the same way.

There are so many horses who need our help. But while you are munching on your holiday goodies, you’ll know that a horse in need has a dry stall and a full belly and that you’ve helped to make that possible. On behalf of our horses, we thank you for your kindness and support over the past five years.

Tom and Jorg

(Photo by Tom. When the horses arrived, we discovered that PJ, in addition to partial blindness and arthritis, also had a large squamous cell cancer that needed surgery. This photo was taken at the Middleburg Equine Hospital, where the wonderful Dr. Adams surgically removed it. Heather was there to keep him company).

What We've Learned - A Synopsis of the Summer

Having reached the end of our first season of attempting greater self-sufficiency, we have learned a number of useful things. We are passing them along in the hope that others will be encouraged by the knowledge that there are people out there who are even more inept than they are. We hope you find these observations helpful.

Calves are often born with their eyes open. While you can’t help thinking how creepy this is, it’s also helpful to consider that we must look like aliens to them, too. Also, calves that are bottle fed, like Annie, view humans in a very different way than naturally raised calves. As suckers. But in Annie’s case, we were fortunate. Mom Bessie taught her herd manners, so we ended up with the best of both worlds- a friendly calf with a high level of respect for both people and cows. Important lesson: keep a bottle on hand if your cow is due to freshen.

The Stilton cheese that we have been curing for several months is starting to look a little less objectionable. We went into the home cheese-making business with high hopes and low skill levels. Once we got past the idea that the stinky, moldy object in the downstairs refrigerator was not in any way like the similar-looking stinky, moldy objects that we have been routinely throwing out, we settled down into a comfortable routine of reminding each other to turn the cheese daily, while forgetting to do it, ourselves. We are now preparing to drive holes into the cheese, in order to encourage the blue mold to grow deeper into the interior. This is something we normally try to prevent in our food. We’ve discovered that pretty much everything you do with raw milk is counterintuitive. Once the cheese has reached a stage of ripe perfection, one of the dogs will probably find it.

We can, indeed, live without credit card balances. We undertook this step in order to preempt what we are predicting will happen next in this fascinating economy: credit card companies will lower available credit limits, which will raise the balance-to-credit ratio, which will lower credit scores, which will then increase interest rates. Since we don’t want to provide any more corporate reptiles with golden parachutes, we just won’t provide them the opportunity to finance them. My apologies to all actual reptiles, who fill a useful environmental niche, for the comparison to investment company CEOs.

Aged horses might benefit from increased protein levels. We’re kind of proud of this one. Most senior horse feeds contain lower protein levels in order to be kind to the less robust kidneys of senior horses. But horses are individuals and some will need more to keep fit. We increased the protein fed to two horses using soy meal and while the result was inconclusive with one horse, it was startling in the other. We are constantly looking for ways to better care for rescued horses and this is another good tool in the arsenal. The horses are trying to convince us that lots of apples will work even better.

Your loved ones will eat even really bad cookies if you make them.

England losing a Rugby match might cause transient amnesia. We are not sure, though.

A lot of intelligent people are growing their own food. We are not them, but we have met some wonderful people who have graciously shared their knowledge and talent.

A puppy’s breath still smells really sweet even at about six months old.

You have to consider carefully which you love more in your garden: the sight of black swallowtail butterfly caterpillars, or dill. You won’t have both.

We wished we’d tried some of our cost-saving measures a long time ago.

Peppers are the easiest vegetables to freeze. Really fresh vegetables are beautiful.

Chickens will eat things that no other creature on earth would eat.

Even sore, grouchy cows will ultimately consent to being milked if you are gentle and patient. Corollary: even neophyte milkers will figure it all out with a patient cow and a good coach- and a milker that works when you turn it on.

We are probably never going to learn how to do everything perfectly, or even well. We will never completely understand everything, either.

There will come a time when you will look back at lost loved ones and smile, even if you think that day will never come. We’ve said a lot of “good-byes” this year.

It never has been about getting everything you want. It’s about valuing what you have.

Detecting when cows are in heat is impossible. Bessie and Rosebud are snickering and making fun of us when we aren’t looking. It's gotten completely humiliating. Bovine husbandry is a humbling pursuit.