The Adventures of Compost Calzone in the Wild West!

Julie used to make these amazing calzones with chicken, spinach and cheese. Something like this recipe except she would use our own ingredients and make the dough herself. Out of this world! Those are, apparently, not a part of the menu these days. Sigh.

So what is a calzone? It’s sort of a pie. There is a layer of bread surrounding the good stuff. Maybe more like a sandwich that is all sealed up.

Click image for source.

What is a compost calzone? Nothing you would want to eat. (I could have called this a poop pasty but, well…I think you agree…)

The pigs are currently cleaning up a poriton of an overgrown hog lot for me. There are 20 years worth of grass and trees growing and virginia creeper out there. The pigs do a good job of rooting through that mess and adding manure. My job is to clean it up and make the most of what remains so I am making compost calzones.

The pigs need a dry, warm place to lay down and take a nap so I fill the shelter with two bales of straw. That’s the bread of the calzone. When I move the pigs to their new pen I gather up the bedding into a pile in the center of the shelter. I do this because I want the compost covered so my nutrients stay where I want them. I can’t let anything wash away. So I make a little nest of the bedding material in the shelter. Then I begin scraping the concrete and pile the wet mess from outside into the shallow center of that nest.


Shovel by shovel, scrape by scrape, I fill the nest in.


Now, there is a little family secret to helping this recipe turn out well. I may as well tell you. Bring in a little extra material to cover the top. Today I used a little spoiled hay but whatever is handy works. With the pile covered, begin working your way around the pile with a pitchfork, folding the surplus material from the edges up over the top of the pile. This is not in any way a technique of my own design, I read about it in Just Enough (a book I highly recommend). Farmers would bring a wagon into town and fill layer after layer with straw and (Gasp!) humanure, sewing the edges of each layer up under the layer above, trapping all the…um…juices…within. The goal was to return nutrients to farms rather than allow farm soils to deplete while nutrients are concentrated and trapped in the cities. They would pay more to clean out the latrines of wealthy people as their diet was better and their manure was richer.


So, following their example, I trap the moisture within to help it all compost nicely. Well…somewhat nicely. To be honest, this wasn’t the nicest compost calzone I have ever cooked but the end result tastes just as good. This is a nicely contained compost pile made of straw, pig manure, leaves, dirt, grass and vines under shelter and the concrete pad is clean for the first time in decades.


Once the composting action begins the pile will heat through from the inside. When it begins to cool (3 days…maybe a week) I’ll tear it apart and put it back together again. After our compost pile goes through a few heat cycles I’ll send it out to feed our fields.

I know I can do better though. I know I can catch more nutrients, make pigs happier and do less work. We may even find a way to use this silly hog floor more frequently. I just have to keep applying myself to the problem. And buy a loader.

Good luck with your calzones, chicken or compost.

A Pig For All Seasons

Things vary from season to season and day to day on the farm. Weather changes. Livestock grow. I need help with different chores from time to time. My pigs are my favorite helpers. Julie laughs when I sell the pigs because I act so relieved but within 48 hours I’m racing to buy more pigs.

I can explain that several ways.

  1. Jordan’s Law of pigs: The relative danger of the pig is directly proportional to the weight of the pig. In some sources of that ancient family text it reads “nuisance” in place of “danger”.
  2. Pigs will magically turn garden waste, skim milk, acorns, etc. into bacon while also generating valuable muck.
  3. I just like pigs. They are pleasant animals to have around. They make fun noises and it’s fun to watch them explore the world, wondering what everything tastes like, wondering if they can push something over or not. They learn very quickly that we bring the food and we can scratch ears so they seem to want to be near us. Just fun.
  4. I am always relieved to sell the pigs because I’m relieved to have successfully SOLD the pigs to customers. Whew!

So I like having and selling pigs…and having them again. But that constant stream of pigs on and off of the farm means we change almost overnight from small groups with massive destructive power to small groups with massive cute power. From pigs that generate 25 pounds of manure each day to pigs that weigh 25 pounds each. These two groups have radically different needs and can exert radically different pressures on their environment.

And don’t overlook the change of seasons. Seasonality brings its own challenges and each batch of pigs takes 4 months to grow out. Small pigs do better than large pigs in hot weather. No pigs do well outside in wet snow. Care has to be taken when pigs are on pasture in monsoon season or the pasture itself will wash away. And that’s what we’re in now; Monsoon season.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Sometimes we just need the pigs to churn up the ground and add in a big dose of fertility as we did when establishing our garden a few years ago. Our garden is great now. It was initially compacted but a little row-by-row dose of broadfork and a covering of mulch provided all the resolution required.


Sometimes we need the pigs to help us compost winter bedding in the cattle barns.


Sometimes we put the pigs on the hillside and ask them to root up rhizomes and eat worms and dig wallows. But I’m tending to drift away from that last one.


Keeping livestock is all about enhancing the soil. I have cows because cows help my soil to be healthier. Same with chickens. They cycle minerals through and dispose of vegetation that would otherwise stand and oxidize, shading out future growth. They provide a dose of bacterial activity in the soil to balance out fungal life…maintaining diversity in the soil. Pulsing organic material on the soil by way of trampled organic material, and in the soil by way of decaying root systems of mature plants grazed by the cattle. The movement of the cattle on the landscape enhances both the cattle and the soil over time.

Keeping pigs on pasture needs be the same. I keep pigs on pasture not to have pastured pork to sell but, instead, because it serves in advancing soil health. Throwing pigs on dirt and mud during periods of prolonged rain will cause soil loss and soil compaction. Putting pigs in cold mud will only hurt pig health, whatever customers say they want. The site Natural Pig Farming makes this point well. With this in mind, we use a number of techniques to both respect the pig, build the soil and make our customers happy, just as we vary grazing techniques with cattle.

This past year we have offered our hogs access to the nut crop in the forest, deep bedding in barns and, most recently, work reclaiming an overgrown hog lot. Our hog lot hasn’t been in use for nearly 20 years and has grown into a forest.


Most of the bays in the building are being used for storage. I sticker and stack my green lumber from the sawmill in a couple of the bays, we have greenhouse parts and …well, who knows what else out there. Stuff. But the four bays to the west are unused. Because the weather has been cold and rainy for the last two weeks the last place I want pigs is on pasture. They would work up the soil and allow it to wash away. So instead, I’m putting them into the forest with the concrete floor, one bay at a time.


Even here they can root and dig and eat grass. I have four pigs in one bay rather than the 60 or so it is designed for. Their job is to reclaim the concrete for me. I filled the sheltered area with straw so they have a comfy bed then leave them to work until the job is done (about a week). Then I come in behind them, shovel and scrape it all clean then compost the manure and bedding under shelter.


I have all kinds of reservations about doing this but obviously I think it’s better than putting my pigs out in the cold mud. But it has me wondering what the limits are. Clearly hogs are adaptable animals. 99% of pigs are raised successfully on slatted concrete floors. Heck, Salatin has concrete strips running the length of his hoop structures to keep the pigs from rooting up the ground. He just covers it in a thick layer of deep bedding. And that, to my way of thinking, puts the pig closer to its roots. But I’m already somewhat close with the trees growing in my lot. In Dune, Dr. Kynes’ last words were “I am a desert creature!” I think of this when I look at my pigs. They are forest creatures.

So how can I go about making room for a forest where none was intended? How can I put deep bedding over a concrete floor that was designed to be scraped clean regularly? Won’t the litter wash out in heavy rain? Won’t it stink if it gets wet?

As long as the litter was kept dry, the temperature of the litter-bed was maintained and the odor of the pig farms was controlled. 

So I have this nice facility. It’s all paid for. And I can’t use it because it doesn’t have a roof. Again, Natural Pig Farming suggests I should add a roof, otherwise there is no way to install and maintain deep bedding. Animal Welfare Approved (not a member) suggests that:

7.6.1 When pigs are excluded from ranging and foraging areas they must be provided with sufficient material they can manipulate so that they can engage in rooting and foraging behavior.

They have that right now because of the organic material that has gathered and grown for 20 years. Beyond the goal above, I’m taking steps to keep uncomposted nitrogenous wastes out of our streams. There is a lagoon off of the hog lot. If anything from our four pigs should escape the lot it would have a hard time escaping that.

I’m saddled with a hog floor I didn’t ask for. It’s just here because of a decision made by the previous generation. But now that I have it, is there any way I can leverage it? ..even if only seasonally? I think so. But it’s going to take some tinkering. It’s easy to focus on muck and money. But we can’t overlook the forest creature.


On the topic of hog floor muck, tune in later this week for The Adventures of Compost Calzone in the Wild West!

How Many Reels of Fence Do I Need?

We have a dozen rolls of polywire fencing but how many do we need? I mean really need?

Ignore the fact that we keep our cows in two herds, beef and dairy. Let’s just talk about the beef herd. How much fence do we use?

We could get by with five. Easily.

Let me explain. We need two reels running in parallel the length of the pasture (let’s call those lines). Then we use one reel for a back fence, one for a front fence and the third defines the length of tomorrow’s grazing area (let’s call those cross fences). Those three cross fences rotate forward the length of the two parallel lines. Clear as mud? Let’s use pictures. This is an overhead view of the field north of the hog building. For decades it was where the sows and boars were kept. I remember it being a moonscape as a kid, now the fences have all been pulled down into the earth by grasses and trampled by cattle.


The satellite image has not been updated recently so the picture shows a lot of damage done by the cattle in the past. See those well worn paths across the field? That’s from the cattle lounging in the bottom or in the wheat field further north and trekking across the field every morning to eat silage and hay at the barn. The whole herd walked in a line right there several times each day, every day for years. There is good fence to the south and west of the field. I just need to build temporary fence to the north then subdivide the grazing to concentrate their activity as they pulse across the landscape. Because my cattle walk in a place only once every three or more months the old cow paths are healing. Instead there are deep roots and tall forages. Unfortunately, there are also tall weeds but that’s part of the healing process.

On the picture below I show the permanent fence in red, the north line in yellow and the cross fences in green. Those daily subdivisions are quite large. In September we were just trying to skim out the annual forbs (chicory, dandelion, clover and ragweed) while maintaining and fertilizing the standing fescue. Fescue is at its best when everything else has frozen out. The little extra dose of nitrogen left by grazing animals will make it even better…for longer. Better still where the layer flock passes.


Every day we moved the cows. Every day we moved the water. Every day the cows got fresh salad and clean sheets. Every day a new section of the pasture got a workout. The strategy is only a little different in the clover field. Not much in that field will survive a frost. Hopefully I can finish grazing it before the forage is killed back by frost. In recent years this has been a lot of corn and beans.


Dad lightly disced the field in the spring and spread a pasture mix heavy in legumes (60%). We took a cutting of hay in late July and it has since recovered. The ground is a little lumpy, there are a few weedy patches (shattercane and cocklebur) but for the most part it’s a very nice field. Hopefully the cows can flatten it out a bit so the hay wagon won’t be such a bumpy ride. Because of the grazing strategy here we are grazing smaller areas. We want fair utilization, a lot of trampling and good manure distribution. We try to leave a blanket covering the soil but still give the cows what they need as measured by gut fill and manure consistency.


We also have to move things along quickly enough to cover the field before frost. Really I should have until early November before snow pushes it all down but I need to be in the alfalfa field after it frosts and dries. So here’s what we planned:


Try to imagine yourself as a 13 year old boy trying to walk a straight line to the opposite corner of a field…when the corner is hidden by two hills.


What really happened is he went wide on the initial fence. We cut a portion of the area in half with another roll of fence then applied our subdivisions. It worked. The pasture sizes vary wildly but it’s cool. We were counting on cool weather in these open areas but it got to nearly 90 degrees. When it got hot we removed the back fence and allowed the cattle to lounge in the shade of the few trees in the first subdivision. That’s not ideal but it also wasn’t a big deal. The cattle tended to concentrate their manure in the shade and caused additional disruption near the trees but they appeared to do their grazing in new areas, not in old ones.


From here we’ll attempt to define a mostly parallel fencing line to the south and keep movin’ on. I think we are currently using 7 reels of fence but only because we are lazy. We could easily get by with five. You just have to think through each movement and how to get the most out of your available resources. Pasture size is dictated by available forage, livestock needs and your management goal du jour. This winter we will really bunch them up in smaller pastures to utilize the stockpiled forage and distribute manure evenly. When it is warm and rainy we give them larger areas. Seasons change. Cattle needs vary. You’ll just have to figure some of this out on your own farm.

Let me give you another example of variation. We have gotten nearly a foot of rain in the last two weeks. We had seven inches of rain in 24 hours last week. This field is so new that there isn’t a dense net of roots protecting the soil. Hooves can sink in. To prevent lasting damage we just move the herd faster. Maybe we offer smaller grazing areas and move them twice daily but they don’t get a chance to make a mud pit. You must be flexible to change with both livestock and pasture needs.

With a mere 5 reels of fence you should have everything you need to put your cows in motion. A drink of water, a pinch of salt and a little shade on hot days and you’re on your way…these could all be delivered to a small herd with a single portable structure.

Additional thoughts:

  • An important thing to consider is placement of your reels. If you are planning to make any adjustments to your fence, put your reel on the end you will adjust. Sometimes we have to roll up a little bit to let the cows into a new stretch. No big deal if the reel is in the right place. For example, try to place the reel of your cross fence so the cattle will show you their left side to you as they walk into the new pasture…and you should make the cattle walk past you to go to new pasture every day. This gives you a chance to look at the gut fill of a portion of the herd as well as a chance to look at other details. Are their coats shiny? Are their rumps and tails clean?
  • I have a few 1400′ reels of fence and I find they are difficult to roll up. I think the best reels are the ones that are only half filled as they are less likely to fall off of the spool. If I need more than 700′ of fence on my little farm I should reconsider my fencing plan.
  • We use a mix of pigtail posts and rebar posts. Rebar posts will take abuse, pigtails won’t. But we have had our share of fence shorts because the insulator on a rebar post twists and grounds out the wire. I prefer pigtails for ends, corners and cross fences then use rebar for lines. Pigtails also hold the wire more securely when deer run through the fence. If I had to make a choice I would choose pigtails.
  • 5 reels would cost around $250 for string and reels, another $50-100 for posts and insulators. That’s all the fence you would need for your first few hundred head of cattle. You might want to offer more space or move them less frequently in the spring but by the time you have 100 head of cattle you can probably afford another reel or two.
  • Don’t skimp on the energizer. And get one with a remote!
  • I would like to try polyrope but it ain’t cheap.
  • I don’t seem to know if I’m writing this blog for me or for you. Or for you. Or you. Or maybe just my kids. Maybe this is the manual for our farm…what I’ve learned so far. Whoever this is aimed at, thanks for reading. I hope it is clear.

Could I Farm the Whole Farm?

I recently wondered what it would be like to fully stock and graze the entire state of Illinois. In short, I would have 55 million hooved animals covering 400 square miles each day, followed by 110 million laying hens. We also included plans to plant millions of fruit and nut trees and leave room for people to live their lives and pursue their own interests. Surely some of them would be beekeepers.

But let’s scale it back. Let’s put my money where my mouth is. I have cows and chickens. I have walnut trees, oak trees, hickory trees, black locust trees. We are planting apples and cherries and plums and hazels and chestnuts. But we aren’t covering the entire 60 acre farm.

To cover the farm I would need 27 cows. Remember, I have to leave an acre per person out of production for roads, buildings, gardens and recreational area so I only have 54 acres available for agricultural activities. I suggested each cow/calf pair needs two acres in Illinois so I need 27 cows. Also 108 ewes and 270 laying hens. Those animals are not here yet. I’m not ready for the marketing, I haven’t built the equity and I don’t have the education required to manage them. I mean, on that scale I would be producing something on the order of 24 calves, 200 lambs and 5000 dozen eggs. Maybe throw in a couple hundred pigs on deep bedding too. That’s just the picture Henderson painted in The Farming Ladder…though he had 100 birds per acre.

I’m casting vision I really can’t see. It’s too far out.


I mean, it was fun to imagine the numbers involved in managing 37 million acres but I have my hands full managing 60 acres. It’s worse than just peddling all that production. I have to pull white snakeroot where it grows. I have to cut firewood, build fence, keep the tin nailed to the barn roof and participate in family stuff.

And we aren’t even dealing with the 70 or so walnut trees that have dropped their walnuts this fall. How many have I picked up? Zero. Aunt Marian’s three apple trees proved more than my match. What would I do if I planted 8 apple trees on every acre? How about 20 on every acre?

If I can’t handle the abundance of a mere 60 acres what chance do we stand trying to scale that up to the whole state?

What I need is some division of labor. I need somebody who cares about apples to pick and deal with the apples. I need somebody who cares about walnuts and somebody who cares about sawing lumber and somebody who wants to sell product and just leave me alone to watch my livestock graze in the afternoon sun.

That would have to happen on a grand scale. That would have to happen on the farm scale. That will have to happen on the family scale.


Family scale is where things usually break down on the farm. Kids get tired. Are they valued members of the team or are they slave labor? Are we living out their vision or mine? Whose dreams are coming true here? Who is taking risks and being rewarded? Where is the awesome?

It can’t all be about cows and sheep and electric fence and work, work, work. Work stinks. Nobody wants to work. But you know what is fun? Making the cows happy. Harvesting fruit from trees you planted with your own hands. Opening the chicken coups in the morning under a blood moon lunar eclipse.


That’s not work. That’s awesome…to me anyway. What do each of my kids think is awesome? If my kids can learn to experience the awesome on the farm, maybe I can help them buy another 60 acres of their own…set them up with a whole generation of stock from our own farm too. Send them with 13 heifers, 100 ewe lambs, a dozen or so gilts and as many hatching eggs and walnuts and chestnuts and hazels as they want. Same with my grandchildren…and thus, through the course of time, we will stock and graze the entire State of Illinois!

I don’t have 27 cows, 108 ewes and 270 chickens on 54 acres. I don’t have 200 trees per acre either. It will happen and it will happen soon but it can’t happen yet. I have to bring the awesome to a new generation first. I still have my town job so we can afford not to maximize our production…so we can afford to learn…so we can afford to teach our children to find the awesome. We can farm the whole farm after I teach my children to love it here.

I don’t want to farm alone.

Could I Farm the Whole State?

No. I could not farm the whole state. It isn’t going to happen. It would cost something like $176 billion to buy the farmland. Besides, we are better off with a half million small farms than with one giant farm as more farmers can do more work, cast more vision and solve more problems. Break the herds and flocks listed below out to an appropriate number of farmers if you want but keep the big total listed below. That’s realistic. Let’s have some fun with one big herd today though.

We use cattle to cycle nutrients and fix carbon. To build healthy soil. They also heal riparian areas. This is accomplished by timing exposure, measuring mob density and allowing adequate plant recovery. The problem I have is I don’t have a mob. I have 60 hooves, not 60,000,000 hooves. Not yet anyway…

What would happen if we used the whole state of Illinois as a pasture? Pretend I could rent it or buy it. Work with me here.

First, let’s make room for people. We need people. People are good. More people allow us to achieve a more complete utilization of the land and resources because I can’t do it all. I need help harvesting the nuts and berries. I need help making the calculations for the jump to light speed. I need guitarists and poets and artists and carpenters. I need bakers and brewers and electricians and computer programmers. I need inventors and dreamers and deadbeats. Biographers, journalists, morticians, pastors, truckers, used car salesmen and bankers. I need overweight doctors, professors without truth and people with Facebook accounts who think they have all the answers. I need people who can manage resources efficiently and people who will gamble it all away in one roll of the dice. I need people cheering for the red team and people cheering for the blue team and people who think they are above the game. I need opportunities to serve in a community and a community to help me when I’m in trouble. So let’s leave room for the people. The cows are a tool. The dirt is the place. The people are the purpose.

Illinois has a population of 12 million. 8 million of those live in or around Chicago. People are often shocked to learn you can drive 5 hours out of Chicago and still be in Illinois. In fact, There are 37 million acres in Illinois. So let’s give everybody an acre. They don’t have to live on that acre, but we’ll reserve that land for retail, roads, recreation, housing, gardening…whatever. Everybody gets an acre. In fact, let’s reserve another 3 million acres for the unborn. Normally we, as a nation, allocate equal space for lawn and for recreational horse pasture. I may not be leaving that much cushion. You may have to buy your horse hay from Missouri.

That leaves us with 22 million acres. Awesome possum. Cool beans. We currently farm 26 million acres in Illinois so we are ahead of the game already.

In Illinois we basically need a little less than two acres per cow and her follower. That would mean we need to come up with 11 million cows (and 110,000 bulls!). But there are only a million cows in the state currently. Heck, Texas doesn’t even have 11 million cows. But we have the appropriate soil and sufficient rainfall and we would harvest something like 10 million calves each year. Basically one beef for every non-vegetarian resident. The USDA says we ate 195 pounds of meat per person in 2000 so you probably won’t be able to/shouldn’t eat the whole beef. We’ll have to sell a portion of our production outside of the state.

And 11 million is just the starting point. We have some of the best soil in the world. Right here. If we can grow 400 bu/acre corn we can surely build grasslands to support one cow per acre…or maybe just one per 1.5 acres. But let’s stick with one cow per two acres and add in sheep instead.

We can comfortably run 4 ewes per cow…so 44 million ewes. So 88 million lambs each year. 88 million. Not only do I need to gobble up a whole beef each year , I need to eat 7 lambs each year. That’s too much meat. Lamb may become the new chicken. The cheap meat. We’ll have to export some of it to Indiana and Missouri…or other states if our neighbors catch on and appropriately stock their land.


But we aren’t finished. Imagine the mess behind the herd. We need a big-ole flock of layers to follow behind them and clean up the mess. We currently run 10 layers per cow and I think that ratio is about right. So we need to run something like 110,000,000 layers free-ranging behind the cattle. The flock may force us to rotate some grazing land into grain production seasonally but that really shouldn’t hurt our grazing total. We’ll also need some help hatching those eggs, let alone collecting and packing and selling 6 million dozen eggs every day. BTW, that’s half of the current egg production of our entire nation so maybe we should cut back our egg production…if for no other reason to lessen our grain needs. We will be grazing around 400 square miles each day with our herds and flocks so the more we distribute the materials handling the better. We should have egg-packing and distribution facilities all over the place. We could probably butcher the flocks and make canned soup and canned cat food and…whatever else while we are in Chicago each fall and they can compost the remains for sale to the millions of Chicago gardeners. We’ll pick up the new flock of 110,000,000 pullets when we pass University of Illinois. Maybe the pullet logistics could become an ongoing research program.

The flocks and herds will pass by quickly going from Jerseyville to Jacksonville in two days. One day the grass is waist-high, the next there is a carpet of grass and manure. Like sweat after a workout it only lasts a little bit then the recovery continues until the next workout. Every three to five months the herd will pass between Effingham and Olney then on past Harrisburg so we can wave at Metropolis then up again between Pinkneyville and Chester, across the flat stretching from St. Louis to Peoria to Rockford, skirting the freightened masses of Chicago who have never seen cattle before as we wind down to Champaign and back around again. Every three to five months we’ll graze, trample and manure the entire state, building inch after inch of soil on a dense fabric of roots and trampled grass blades…a blanket that cushions and protects the soil from ice, wind, sun and rain. Schools will let the children out for the day to see The Jordan herd pass by…a sight their grandparents never imagined. Letters will be written to editors complaining about the flocks of wild birds that accompany the herd migration and late pizza delivery caused by cattle crossing the road for hours. Chickens will follow behind…all 110 million of them, scratching out bugs and leaving additional manure. (How would that even be possible? Thousands of school buses converted to chicken houses driving from place to place? Maybe train cars full of chickens? Train cars full of chicken feed? Honestly, I can’t imagine the daily distribution needs.) A few days later there will be clouds of dung beetles. Deer and wild turkey and quail will graze with and behind the herd, not to mention the swallows swooping in above the herd as it grazes quietly along.



But surely we can do more with that ground. Cows appreciate shade on hot days. What if we planted rows of trees on contour? Miles and miles of diverse tree stands. Canopy layers of oak, hickory, chestnut or walnut. Lower layers of apple and cherry and filberts all on neat rows slowing the downhill flow of rainwater. Even lower layers of gooseberry and raspberry and strawberry. Black locust mixed in for nitrogen and wood products. All 12 million people in Illinois could have 50 pounds of cracked walnuts, 100 pounds of chestnuts, boxes and boxes of apples and cherries and strawberries. Of course, nobody wants all that food so we’ll have to hire people to harvest the abundance and build huge processing facilities to make brownies and High Fructose Chestnut Syrup and hard cider and applesauce and apple pie and caramel apples. Not to mention the massive squirrel and rabbit harvest…also enjoyed by the numerous birds of prey.

We would need something like one hired hand per thousand head of livestock so we’ll have at least 55,000 employees (probably on horseback) helping to manage the herd, culling old, open or injured animals, castrating young bulls and rams, keeping the mob grouped and moving. This does not count the teams that move ahead of the herds to build fence. (Not the kind of fence that subdivides the pasture for daily moves, the kind of fence that keeps the cows out of town…the houses from being smashed…and the cars from being trampled (we hope) by FIFTY-FIVE MILLION ANIMALS.) Probably another employee per thousand layers. Nor does this count their families that will accompany them on the migration amounting to a population larger than the city of Springfield. We’ll need many, many more people to help us transport, slaughter and distribute the meat. Thousands more to handle the abundance of nuts, fruit…just the raw materials. More to take those raw materials and produce finished products ranging from rawhide bones for pets to dining room tables to gooseberry pies. Think of the regulators required to keep us all safe! Think of the lawyers we’ll hire to keep us safe from the regulators!

And this is just the beginning. Remember, we set aside 15 million acres for humans. That leaves room for zucchini and tomatoes and flocks of chickens at home. Different strains of chickens…regional breeds. Maybe goats. Certainly pigs…everybody loves bacon. Pork may become that treasured annual delicacy bringing family together for harvest and celebration. Maybe one farmer in 20 farrows, allowing many others to keep a pig or two at home to make good use of uncollected tree nuts and garden waste. Maybe even home dairy. Heck, maybe small raw milk dairies to supply milk and cheese for neighbors…nevermind. Illinois doesn’t like raw milk. Sigh. Woodworking shops, welding and repair, bakeries, septic tank clean out… Heck, we’ll keep everybody so busy managing our abundance they won’t have time to write silly legislation to “fix” the world’s problems…let alone write starry-eyed, idealistic blog posts.

Do you know the difference between “riches” and “wealth”? What if I suggested rich people have an abundance of money and wealthy people have an abundance of time? How’s that sitting with you? (I’m thinking about this as I read P.G. Wodehouse.) Anyway, look man. When the herd is in your neighborhood, help us out. I’ll cut out a few head for your butchers and we’ll be back in a few months. When the herd is away, harvest the abundance of the forest. Bake a pecan pie sweetened with honey and pour a few mugs of hard cider. Sell the surplus production from your land then go fishing. No big whoop. Either you can lease me your grazing rights or you can lease space from me to plant your trees. Nobody is giving anybody anything. We all work hard. We all hold our heads up. We all become more wealthy (free time) and the money and resources we generate stay right here. You can buy that cool new techno-gadget if you want. I’m going to park my tookus under a tree near the herd and do some reading. Lamb for dinner. Again.

And what if we expanded the herd further? What if we worked with neighboring states to put together a larger migratory herd (probably herds)? Cottage industries springing up to help meet the needs of the families that stay with the herd year-round. There were somewhere north of 60 million bison ranging the plains 400 years ago….so…why not? Tens of thousands of people staying with the herd or working regionally with the herd as it passes through their area. Why not?

I’ll tell you why not. The EPA would shut it down.

Click image for source.

My goodness! How did the waterways survive before we shot all those horrible buffalo? What we need are more tractors! We need to rip the soil so the rain will wash it away. Put that stuff in the Gulf of Mexico where it belongs! By golly, God gave us a crater to fill and we’re gonna fill it! While we are at it, let’s poison the drinking water with weed sprays and bug sprays and anti-fungal sprays. Apparently cow poop in a stream and voluntary consumption of raw dairy will bring about the end of the world and don’t even mention the dead buffalo Lewis and Clark found in the Missouri River. Let’s sterilize the whole state right down to the bedrock. And it’s important that we tile the state to drain the rain away as quickly as possible too…in large part because atrazine in the ground water has become a bit of a problem. By golly, we have to feed the world and corn is the only way to do it.

So we’ll just continue on our current course. Eating corn flakes and puffed corn curls covered in corn starch cheese and drinking fizzy corn drinks and feeding corn to diarrhea-covered cattle in EPA-approved feedlots. Wasting our unhappy lives in cubicle-filled bureaucracies, out of touch with the natural world, never facing the reality of death…believing pharmacies and money can cure a lifetime of poor health choices…never accepting that the hamburger came from a beautiful living animal…and that it is OK to have mixed feelings about eating animals…that this is a discussion we can have. It’s OK to revere life…and take it carefully. Respectfully. To ensure our animals live each day with purpose. To ensure our people live each day with purpose. To save our soil for future generations. Nope. We can’t have that.

5 Things I Won’t Farm Without

The last couple of years we have worked to change and streamline our operation, limiting the amount of time we spend on daily chores while also focusing on increasing the quality of our products. There are several things that have really made a difference. I’ll link to a couple of places that sell each but I am in no way endorsing a supplier. I don’t care where you buy it. I just want to be clear what I’m pointing you to.

Poultry Range Feeder

This is, in my opinion, the greatest thing ever. Ever. 100 birds don’t quite eat 50 pounds of feed in a day but it’s near enough when you have to lug the bag. Instead, we just drive the truck out to the birds, dump in enough feed to last until the next move and drive off on our merry way. The feed stays dry in the rain and we have had no trouble with bridging. The unit has proven durable. My only complaint is the ring in the feeder keeps falling out. Maybe I didn’t make it tight enough. Maybe I made it too tight.


Field Drinker

This is, in my opinion, the greatest thing ever. Ever. We ran a nipple on a garden hose hanging from a t-post for years and it worked great. I stand by that recipe. Put the t-post through a pallet to help prevent the pigs from making a wallow. But if the hose breaks when you run over it with a mower (blush) the pigs are out of water. There is no reserve. Also, the water is not cool when it gets to the nipple on a warm, sunny day. You could put a nipple on a hose connected to a tank but the better solution, I think, is to have a large, heavy tank of water the pigs can drink directly out of. Because they can’t force it to leak like a nipple they have a hard time making a wallow. There are rubber plugs in the tank and in each side of the drinker you can remove to drain and/or clean the unit and that’s important because the pigs always make a mess of things. The only problem I have had with the drinker is when the pigs get above 200 pounds they are strong enough to tip it over. The solution appears to keep the unit full. You could put a float valve in the unit with a hose sticking through the top. There are also two places for heaters if you need to keep it thawed in the winter.


Pig Feeder

This is, in my opinion, the greatest thing ever. Ever. OK. That joke is getting tired. Really, the pig feeder isn’t that big of a deal but it is nice to be able to walk away from the pigs for a couple of days. Besides, pigs eventually grow to a point where you no longer want to climb into their pen twice/day. Problem solved. We don’t have to go in at all anymore. We just flip the lid and fill it up. It holds enough feed to last eight 50# pigs two weeks or eight 300# pigs one day. However, this specific model doesn’t hold up well to the kind of abuse a 300 pound pig can dish out. I prefer to use this unit to grow out as many as four pigs. More than that and, really, I would want a larger unit…capacity, durability and weight.

Chickens on Wheels

ChickenHouseYou can’t buy these in stores but I just love our new chicken house design. It is, in my opinion, the greatest thing ever. Ever. If I were to change anything I would make it longer to measure 8×16 and build 20 of them. That’s narrow enough to fit our gates but the added length would accommodate another 50 birds. We insulated the roof and the structure stayed cool. There is more than enough ventilation. The ceiling is high enough to make clean-out a breeze. We could close up the vents and plug in some heat lamps to make this into a portable brooder. In fact, future generations of broilers may live out their entire lives in and out of this structure. One feature we really like is having the nest boxes mounted outside so we can gather eggs easily but I think we’ll relocate them to the high side of the roof next time.

Nest Boxes

Nest Box
We used homemade wooden nest boxes for years and I felt a bit foolish when I splurged on metal ones. Forget the wood. I strongly suggest you go ahead and splurge on a good array of metal nest boxes….greatest…thing…ever. I prefer plastic bottoms over galvanized. I’m surprised to admit that I prefer the plastic roost bars over the wood but we have broken several wooden roosts…as evidenced in the patch my kids used for the picture above. The plastic ones are a bit wider and just droop a little.

Well, there you go. Four product reviews and one thing I just bragged about. I hope that helps. Please comment if you have any questions or if you want to share what you believe is the greatest thing ever. Ever.

How Are We Going to Pay For This?

Oh, the joy! The fulfillment of a lifelong dream!

how are we going to pay for this 3

I liked my grandma’s house so much I bought it.

But now that I have it, how do I pay for it? Land isn’t exactly cheap right now…nor was it when I bought the farm a few years ago.

Let’s leave the dollars out of this. Let’s talk in terms of production. What do I have to produce each year just to service the debt I hold on my 60 acres? Ready? I have to produce all of the following:

  • 2,000 dozen eggs
  • 5-7 calves
  • 20 pigs
  • 1,200 broilers

All that just to make the farm payment. Now, maybe that’s not such a high hurdle…especially since the math involved has already accounted for income tax. But it is a hurdle. 1,200 broilers at our scale chews up the whole spring and fall. 3 batches of 6-8 pigs are no big deal but forces us to keep pigs all year. Eggs are a year-round deal too but 100 layers really aren’t hard to manage. That said, the income from that small flock only accounts for about 12% of the farm revenue as presented above. Layers are more about fertility and bug control than revenue but maybe we should increase the flock to account for a full 25% of revenue. Yikes! Mr. Henderson would say yes but…Yikes!

How are we going to pay for this?

So that’s what it takes. Sure I could pay the payment with 20 calves but I don’t have 20 calves. And I’m not sure I want to ONLY have cattle anyway. I have exposure to a number of markets this way. Many customers buy eggs. Fewer buy chicken. Fewer still buy pork. The marketing pyramid works very well. So we produce a variety of classes of livestock. The good news is we already have everything we need to produce these numbers. The bad news is all of that production ONLY SERVICES THE DEBT.

What about the fencing we need to build? What about the trees we want to plant? What about the buildings that need to be repaired? How can I afford to buy a tractor?

I don’t know. I guess I need a couple more pigs. And another 300 broilers. And another calf or three. And another 100 layers.

But Julie is already tired (as I frequently write). How can I double my livestock numbers without negatively impacting my job or our family life? I don’t know. Maybe I should quit my job.

But if I quit my job we’ll still need some form of income. Remember, to date we are only servicing the debt and producing enough to make small infrastructure investments. Now we’re talking income. You know, money. The kind you need to slap braces on the kids and pay for books and plan for college and…you know…what happens when I’m 70? Will I be able to relax on the farm I have served my entire life, harvesting the abundance of my decades of labor or will I have to sell my beloved land and move to town?

how are we going to pay for this edited 2

Happens all the time.

Well, that’s no hill for a climber. Maybe if we got to 300 layers. That would give us 15 dozen eggs/day to sell. And maybe we could raise 15 pigs at a time. And sell 25 calves every fall. And heck, the kids are growing. Maybe we can handle 2,400 broilers. Maybe even 3,000! Would that be enough?


What does enough mean? How much is enough?

How much is too much?

I don’t know. Dirty Harry warned that “A man’s got to know his limitations.”

Do I know my limitations?

Do I believe I am immortal?

Did I pay too much for my farm?

What is this dream costing me?

Don’t read regret into this post. Please don’t think I’m being pessimistic. Quite the opposite. After spending a few years learning how I’m finally making this thing pay.

how are we going to pay for this edited 1

So. Be sure to sit yourself down with a couple of sharp pencils and do the math before you buy land. Try to sell something. Just try. Your boss may enjoy eating pork chops but does he have freezer space for half of a hog? Will your co-workers continue buying from you if you change jobs? Can you sell a dozen eggs at a profit? Start small. Learn as you go. Grow when you have to. Move slowly. Always do the math.

Always do the math.

Leavin’ It To The Kids

We were gone. Both of us. Gone. Away from the farm. Kids were with grandparents.

Weird. 3 weird days. Lonely. I strangely missed doing chores as I studied in my hotel room.

It took a bit of planning, a bit of negotiation, a little fiddling with things to make it a success but it was a success. A complete success. Our older kids, aged 14 (almost) and 12, with help from grandpa (age withheld), ran the farm for three days while I was working and Julie was goofing off in Florida.

leaving 6

So what has to happen when we are gone?

leaving 5

Well? Everything.

Chickens need to be opened in the morning and closed in the evening. Ideally, eggs are gathered at 11 and again at 3 and the drinker is filled at those times too.

Pigs don’t need much, just top off the feeder and make sure the water is available. Bedding is always in style but they will be fine for 3 days.

Cows need to be moved. Every. Day. The forecast was calling for cooler days so I set up a long strip on the clover field, segmented it with cross fences like a long ladder and left instructions to move the cows in the afternoon when the clover was warm and dry. Unfortunately it got hot so we had to open up some back fence to allow the cows access to shade. Water is automatic, just have to check it. The water trough is much more likely to overflow than to go dry so it is important to check to see if the cows have churned the area around the water into a muddy mess. If so, move the water. That proved to be more work than can be handled at age 13. Otherwise, no big deal.

leaving it 3

Dairy is a different thing altogether. We were only gone for three days. Three days. You with me? Three days. Tuesday Julie left the calves with the cows. All you can eat. Wednesday the kids didn’t milk. This has its drawbacks and limitations, not the least of which is the concern that the calves will overeat. But one day shouldn’t be cause for concern…especially since the calves are big enough to wean. Wednesday afternoon it was back to normal schedule. At 3, when you get the eggs and water the chickens and move the shorthorns, find the dairy calves (they ignore the fence) and lock them up at the barn. Good luck. Thursday morning they had a bit of a rodeo milking the cows but they got the job done. First they forgot the water to wash the udder. Then they forgot the rubber ring for the milker. But all went well and they got the normal amount of milk. They didn’t milk again on Friday but separated the calves so we could milk Saturday morning. No ill-effects. No big whoop.

leaving it 4

But what if the pigs get out? Or a cow? Or the bull?!?!? What then?

I don’t know. Call the pigs and put new temporary lanes up to return the cows to their pastures. But it didn’t happen.

Not only are we proud of our kids for doing such a great job, we got some feedback from dad on how to make things better. Everything from managing the water for the birds to concentrate ration changes for the milk cows. We are pretty intentional about not feeding for increased milk production as we value the longevity of the cows and calves over the volume of (otherwise worthless) milk produced but dad wants to see a little more fat on the cows. I do too. Dad also pointed out that my new layer flock is a little heavy on roosters. Strange because I bought all pullets.

With a little planning, a little training and a couple of crossed fingers, everything worked well. The kids were tired but it was nice that Julie and I got away for a little bit together.

I should also add that it was Julie who lined most of this up. I left directly after the funeral to begin school on Sunday morning. Julie was home washing eggs and preparing the kids and grandpa for the chores until she flew out Wednesday morning. This was a total team effort. I am both proud and thankful.

Where Are The Cows Now?

Cows are on the move. We have cooled off significantly and can now graze places we skipped in the hot part of summer. But we are moving fast to leave as much plant material behind as possible so plants will recover quickly. Think of it this way, the leaf is a solar cell. The more leaf area we retain the more energy we cna catch and store…the more roots we can put down…the more nutrients I can mine and cycle through the soil. The more sunlight we can capture, the more biomass we can generate. The more biomass we can generate, the more food I have for my cattle (well, unless it’s snakeroot).


The cows are on the move. We’re trying to get them to gobble up as much of the clover and chicory and dandelion as possible before frosts arrive…and we only have about a month remaining. We are trying to convince them to skip right on past the fescue in favor of other, more fleeting morsels because the fescue will stand up to the frost. The clover will just wilt and die. We need to move fast to continue fattening our cattle before the cold weather hits. Here is a shot of a pasture they just moved into up on the flat by the hog house:


And a picture of the previous pasture they have left behind. Where they slept the ground is carpeted with manure, otherwise it is scattered fairly evenly. Still plenty to eat in the paddock. At least another day’s worth of grazing. We’ll save that for another day. The broadleaf weeds will die back shortly and the fescue will really start to come on.



Speaking of broadleaf weeds, there are some things the cattle just won’t eat…unless they are forced to. I can’t seem to get ahead of the cocklebur or jimsonweed but the cows just eat around them, pointing them out to me.


This week the cattle are on the 9 acre field dad seeded to about 60% clover last spring. He just did a light discing of the corn stubble and broadcast the seeds from the tractor. Seems like it worked well.



Julie captured the butterfly migration in this field a few days ago.

I have 11 head of cattle, 9 acres of clover to cover and only a month to do it in. But the speed of movement is not my biggest concern. That’s just a matter of building fence and providing water. My biggest concern is the density of clover in that stand. We try to keep our cattle full and only move in the afternoon, when the fresh pasture will be dry. The first thing the cattle eat is the clover. But since the previous day’s allotment was larger than required, the cattle are entering with a full belly. If they were grazing clover covered in morning dew and with empty stomachs we would probably lose some cattle to bloat.

So we move over large areas, we move quickly, we check their gut fill (the triangular void between the last rib and the pelvis on the cow’s left (not the cow’s right!)), we move in the afternoon and we are always checking the quality of their manure. I know, right? Manure. Between the gut fill and the manure consistency I pretty much see what needs to be seen. Obviously we are always looking for somebody lagging behind or with a drippy nose, droopy ears or head down but with a mere 11 head we know each one personally any change stands out to us.

After this clover field we will have a mere 32 acres of pasture remaining for our few cows and calves. It will have to last until April. Maybe even May. Shouldn’t be a problem. With the clover field carrying the cattle this month, the rest of the farm has an opportunity to rest and recover. Hope it works out. Looks good on paper anyway. In fact, the paper says I don’t have enough cattle. Sigh.

This post was largely conceptual. I’ll go a bit into the mechanics and logistics of laying out the fence, providing water and just moving the animals in an upcoming post.

Aunt Marian

Oh, the things I don’t know about my great aunt. I was looking at magazines on her table recently and asked her how her parents spelled her name…her mail was addressed to Marian and to Marion and I have written both on the blog. I don’t think she gave me an answer, just a laugh. It must not have mattered to her.

We asked her about her uncle French…was “French” a common name 100 years ago? “No” she said, “I only knew one other person named French. That was French Fry.” We all started laughing. It took her a minute then she realized why we were laughing and we realized she wasn’t making a joke. She said, “I never thought about that before” and laughed with us. I still think that’s funny.


Aunt Marian recently celebrated her 95th birthday.


She passed away on Wednesday.

When I was a kid Aunt Marian was just some lady who lived near Grandma and Grandpa’s and made me itchy clothes. I love pumpkin pie but she didn’t make pumpkin pie. She made squash pie. Squash pie? SQUASH PIE? Mom makes pumpkin pie from real pumpkins out of a can. Now that’s pumpkin pie!

But as I grew I learned more about her and gained a tremendous amount of respect for her. In the last few years I noticed she only slept when she was driving. Otherwise she was working. She made dresses for all of the girls at Christmas and Easter. I think I broke her of making boy clothes. She always gave me blue dress socks at Christmas. I don’t wear blue dress socks. I think she had a sense of humor. She somehow managed to keep her flowers growing, her garden in, her lawn mowed and her apples canned. I can’t do even one of those things. She volunteered at the local food pantry. She made grape pies for the fish fry. She helped at church functions. She kept her thistles chopped. She loved us.

Grandpa and Aunt Marian had an older brother named Billy. Billy was mentally handicapped (hydrocephalus). From what I have put together, Aunt Marian kept Billy with her when she was out picking berries and she had to pick 100 quarts of raspberries every summer. Imagine that. Beating through the brush to pick 25 gallons of raspberries, stabbed by the vines, tromping through the poison ivy, brother in tow and probably horses cropping grass nearby. And not only that she had to milk the cows.

She was in our kitchen about a year ago and saw our milking machine. She said, “What do you need that for? You only have two cows.” What response can you give to such a question? She continued, “I milked 14 by hand.” But it’s worst than that. She milked 14 twice each day by hand. We only milk in the morning. Same barn. Same stanchions. Jersey cows grazing the same places where her Jersey and Guernsey cows grazed. We don’t even churn the butter. We just skim off the cream for our coffee. How lazy are we?

She made time in her schedule to tell us a little about milking. She said her father offered to pay her a nickel if she could milk out one cow before he finished the rest. It took her 5 years to earn that nickel. She also told me that she would milk while grandpa was still in bed. That sounds like something you would hear a sibling say.

But I I have no doubt that she milked 14 cows and tromped through the brush picking berries with her older brother in tow. And maintained the orchard. And made clothes. And rode her horse to school. And worked in a doctors’ office for years. And what else? What else don’t we know about her?

Did you know she made my sister’s wedding dress? She made Julie’s wedding dress too. And several others. Not just the dresses for all of her great-great nieces each year, she made stuff out of the blue. I hate to think of the time she spent asleep at the wheel on her way to Springfield to buy fabric but dresses were made somehow. Maybe elves helped her at night.

This year somebody else will have to make the corned beef and cabbage. Somebody else will have to bake the pumpkin roll for the church potluck. I doubt if anybody will pick up the baton and make 30+ dresses for Christmas. Apparently I’m not up to the task of making applesauce out of 40 bushels of apples. Who will work at the food pantry? Who will make grape pies? Who will buy me blue dress socks?

I miss her already. She was a fine example of love and sacrifice and she was never intimidated by hard work. We are less one hero. If you would like to share a story about Aunt Marian please post it in comments below. I would love to hear it.

Aunt Marian’s Grape Pie (From the Chism Family Heirloom Cookbook (comment if you are interested in a copy.)