Follow our project on Substack

Greetings from Fox Holler Farmstead! I thought it would be appropriate to share the news that I’ve been focusing my writing energy regularly over at for the time being. I hope you’ll join me over there, it’s been great getting back into writing this year. I hope to update the blog here on occasion, but frankly, as a techno-curmudgeon, I find substack to be way easier for me to use than wordpress. Most of my content over there is free, and I wouldn’t put anything too vital behind a paywall.

As I engage more with the practice of writing I hope to post back here from time to time, focusing on some helpful or instructional type posts as well as updates relevant to our business. My substack centers around the practice and philosophy around farming and ecology at this unique point in human existence, as well as some advice on when to plant your onions or slaughter your chickens, and what have you.

If time allows and some higher power wills it, I shall update the rest of this website in coming weeks.

Enjoy spring, lets see if it sticks.


Seven Trees to Plant for You and Your Pigs

If you want to save money on feed, protect and nurture soil, and increase the health and welfare of your pig herd, here are seven must-have species to include in your permaculture design.

Pigs thrive in wooded areas where food and shelter are naturally present. We can design food forests that meet the needs of our herd and ourselves.

Let your pigs act like pigs

Pigs, when given the opportunity, are forest dwellers. There is a long history of hogs and their herders being granted rights to commonly held woods. This was done primarily for the fattening of hogs prior to slaughter, in times when local sources of fat were highly valued. Beyond the necessities of peasant nutrition, if pigs are given the choice, they will actively seek out tree cover for shade and shelter, and forest floors for fruits, nuts, grubs, and roots. While there are many environmental and ecological considerations to make when introducing pigs to established forests and woodlots, we can provide the same benefits to our herd by purposely planting guilds of beneficial trees for both human and hog.

Planning your pig orchard is highly dependent upon the unique shape and flow of your land. As with any permanent changes to the landscape of your farm or homestead, the first step is to make observations of your site. Is it at risk for erosion or flooding? Are there clear, accessible pathways for resources and vehicles to move freely when needed? Will your livestock and seedling trees be exposed to harsh elements? While the following list of tree crops is certainly one aspect of designing your perennial pig paradise, there are many other considerations to make prior to implementing your design. My advise is to give it a full four seasons of observation before you begin.

Mulberries for fruit and fodder

No tree beats mulberry for its protein-rich leaves, bountiful fruit production, and stubborn desire to grow in adverse conditions.

Mulberry is our number one livestock tree here at Fox Holler Farmstead. No matter your climate, there is likely a variety of mulberry that will thrive in your location. Mulberries are dioecious, meaning that there are non-fruiting males, and fruiting females. Both have value in our system.

In terms of food, fruiting mulberries offer an obvious benefit in the form of rich, sweet, abundant berries that tend to drop when ripe. I have watched pigs and chickens both congregate under mulberry trees, stained purple as they lay in wait for the sweet payload to rain down. There are many selected cultivars of mulberries, that produce heavily or consistently or both. The finest specimen we’ve found that works in our climate is Illinois Everbearing. There are others which may be even better, such as Hicks Everbearing, but they can’t make it here in Zone 5. Of course, ordering special nursery stock of these trees can be expensive. If your land is like ours, and full of seedling mulberries everywhere, transplanting some of your trees is a cheap alternative, and we’ve had excellent luck. Mulberries ripen in early summer here in the Midwest, but everbearing types can drop fruit consistently throughout summertime.

Of course, if you transplant wild seedlings, some amount of these will be non-fruiting males. Not to worry. Not only can you graft fruiting scionwood onto these trees, they are equally valuable in our fodder system. Mulberry leaves are the primary source of food for silkworm production, and that’s for a reason: the leaves are especially high in protein, and many leaves can be produced through coppicing and pollarding. Mulberry leaves, stripped fresh off the tree or allowed to drop in autumn are always popular with our pigs, goats and cows. They can even be dried and shredded to supplement poultry feed!

While mulberry leaves alone do not have as many complete amino acids as soybeans, they will when fed in combination with our next tree.

Hazelnuts for fat and protein

Hazelnuts, whether in their tall, commercial form or their shrubbier wild type, are quick to establish, hardy, and abundant, bearing nuts in as few as four years. They do well both in open plantings as well as in the understory, between other, taller trees. We have also used hazel to grow windbreaks along the northern edge of our pastures to provide our livestock with natural shelter.

Hazelnuts are rich in protein and oils, and their relatively thin shells make them easy for pigs to consumer. Most hazelnuts remain on the tree until they’re plucked free, so hand harvesting clusters may be the best practice if your pigs are particularly large and destructive. Our kunekune pigs are delicate enough to be allowed to self-harvest established hazels, but your mileage my vary with this practice.

Hazelnuts themselves are relatively easy to propagate from seed, and there are many nurseries and breeding programs out there doing excellent work selecting and improving hybrid hazelnuts for heavy production. In our area, hazels typically ripen in September and October.

Tulip Poplars for early season snacks, shade and honey

The tulip poplar is quick growing shade tree that can tolerate wet and flooded soils. One important thing to offer your pig herd is shade in the summertime, and cool mud to bathe in. While the food value of dropped blossoms and seeds appears to be unknown at this time, we do know that pigs enjoy eating them nonetheless. The blossoms drop early in the season when most other tree species have little to offer in terms of food.

While tulip poplars may not be as useful of a feed source to pigs as our other featured trees, they are very important to pollinators and are great for beekeepers. If you are establishing your pig food forest from scratch, including a few tulip poplars can guarantee you and your swine a shady place to kick back and enjoy the butterflies and hummingbirds. These quick growing shade trees will have to suffice while our next species gradually but consistently works towards becoming the apex tree of our pig orchard.

An oak for every paddock

Pigs on an acorn hunt. Once in a while they’ll find a squirrel cache.

No matter where you live, there is an appropriate oak that is happy to exist in your soil and climate type. And oaks have long been a mainstay in traditional methods of raising pigs. In dehesa agriculture systems, pigs are routinely run beneath the far-reaching boughs of cork oaks to fatten on acorns. Cork is also harvested in this system, as well as lamb and some grain crops. While we can’t raise cork oaks here in Northeast Missouri, we have plentiful pin oaks as well as a few burr oaks. Do some research and observation of your area when picking out what type of oaks to raise.

Several years ago we planted out a few chestnut leaf oaks from Oikos nursery. They are supposed to be quick growing and heavy producers of acorns. While they haven’t dropped mast yet, I am thus far impressed with how tall they’ve gotten, in spite of some accidental cow damage. Oaks are great because no matter your climate or soil conditions, there are likely a few varieties that will work well in your system. You can space your oaks widely for a sprawling shade tree form, or more tightly for producing quality saw logs.

Asian Pear and Harbin Pear Rootstock for sugar, cider, and treats

In our setting, Asian pears do really well with organic management, and produce consistently year after year. The fact that they ripen on the tree means that you can pick all you want for human consumption and allow your pigs to clean up the rest once they drop. Here in Northeast Missouri, tapping sugar bush gives us an inconsistent yield from year to year, but Asian Pears are very rich in sugar and can be processed down into a sweet syrup of their own if you have the time and inclination.

One common rootstock for Asian pear is the Harbin Pear (Pyrus ussuriensis) which if allowed to mature ungrafted will grow large and produce and abundant quantity of small, hard pears, that can still be quite sweet. These are a great, low cost way to include pears in your pig orchard, produce your own pear cider, and practice your grafting.

If you are designing your orchard to produce fruit month by month or even week by week, Asian pears offer a lot of options. Coordinate your paddock rotations to be just behind peak harvest in each group of trees so that humans can harvest the best unblemished fruits and the pigs can access the rest afterward.

Willows for nesting, shelter, and biochar

These piglets rest in the nearby willows when they’re not happily grazing.

This next tree may sound like a bit of a stretch, but I have been surprised at how well our hogs have utilized willows out on pasture. We have been cultivating various types of willows for a while now, initially as a quick growing source of polewood. I began noticing that our sows would regularly carry off the cut branches for nest-building prior to farrowing. The quick growth habit of willows means you can establish shade and windblock immediately on your pasture, and the regenerating nature of these trees can be used to create biochar, both for inclusion in your herd’s diet, and in bedding. Incorporating char can help regulate digestion, keep bedding clean and ammonia free, and aid in retaining fertility in your compost. As an added bonus, our pigs love to nibble the emerging sprouts of coppiced willows, and the tannin content in the leaves can help with parasites.

Chestnuts for abundant, perennial carbs

I’ve mentioned in the past that pigs are, in a way, organic batteries. They store the food energy value of surplus foodstuffs and forages which are inedible to humans, and reserve them in their body for later use. One of the most useful energy storage characteristics of a pasture fed hog is in its lard. Lard is one of the easiest to obtain and efficient to produce local fats in temperate regions, and nothing develops quality pork fat quite like carbohydrate-heavy chestnuts.

While chestnuts do take a while to establish, they aren’t nearly as slow growing as walnuts or pecans. Here in North America, chestnut blight has taken a toll on native trees, but there is alot of work being done with asian hybrids that can handle disease, our climate, and produce prodigious amounts of nutrition, similar to that of a potato, but less work over time. Chestnuts drop in autumn, enclosed in a spiny husk. While your hogs may take a while to figure out the prickly packaging, they do have all day to think about accessing the sweet kernels inside. Similar to pears, chestnuts can be planted in ripening succession for sharing the harvest, and their broad canopies at maturity can provide excellent shade for summertime lazing and grazing.

Picking the right trees for your pigs

These autumn olives are a favorite of our poultry, but the pigs will nibble them up too.

While I’ve offered some suggestions here, perhaps not all of these trees are suitable for your location. Feel free to use this as a starting point in your design. Perhaps observing how your pigs interact with existing trees can offer some ideas.

When choosing your tree species, we want to provide a broad range of nutrition, foods that drop to the ground, a broad range of ripening dates, and varied forms for shelter needs. Beyond that the sky’s the limit on how you can creatively integrate trees into your pig pasture. Feel free to share any trees that have complimented your pastured herd.

Working towards a resilient farmstead

From saving open pollinated vegetable seeds to planting tree crops and reducing your reliance on imports, there are many ways we can build more resilience into our homestead.

If you’re a homesteader, gardener, or farmer, chances are you’ve thought about how recent economic and geopolitical events are affecting your ability to raise food. Rising fuel costs, supply-chain issues, and violent climate conditions are making some of the vulnerabilities in our systems and practices more apparent. While we here at Fox Holler Farmstead focus on a pasture-based, low input, low fossil fuel program, we still need to do better. Feed prices sky-rocketing, and how we react to this sudden increase in cost may well determine our future farming. If I was successfully riding the tide of instability, I would obviously share my secret with the world. What I can share are some of the vulnerabilities I am noticing here in our project, as well as some practices that appear to be keeping us balanced at the moment. In this post, I will give you some examples of where I see resilience in our system, and where I see vulnerability.

First off, how do we define resilience? As I see it, resilience in our system is its ability to functionally and easily produce calories in the face of exterior disturbance. Let’s take an arbitrary example, like, I dunno, say highly pathogenic avian influenza wiping out our chicken flock. If that flock dies mid-season, even if I’m managing them in a completely humane pasture system, I cannot eat the chicken feed, grass or bugs. The project is not yielding anywhere near it’s intended goals. I could quick, till that pasture and try to plant a vegetable or staple crop, which would cost a lot in fuel, time, effort and stress. If I managed to pull it off, and the crop didn’t fail, we could define that as survival. Resilience isn’t just about surviving. It’s about thriving, weathering the storm with little stress. If we take that same pastured poultry flock, but manage it in an orchard setting, I will still have chestnuts, apples, pears, mulberries, hazelnuts, and blackberries, regardless of poultry disease, fuel costs, and economics. Perennial tree crops are one key to resilience.

Tree crops, once established, can survive weather extremes better than annual crops. One significant flood event can wash out entire fields of corn, wheat, and beans. Nut trees, particularly a diverse range of species, can fill in the nutritional gaps left by this type of exterior pressure. There are many heavy bearing tree crops which can not only make up for human nutrition, but can aid in feeding your poultry crop or pig herd as well. Even leaf and fodder crops, like mulberry and willow can make up for a bad hay or grass year. Mulberry leaves are very protein rich, rivaling alfalfa, don’t need replanting, and are so digestible that non-ruminant animals like pigs, chickens and humans can consume them. Come what may, and whether or not you are currently a land owner, find somewhere to begin planting useful trees. Your future self will thank you.

Some chestnut seedlings among a heat tolerant warm season pasture. Chestnuts are similar to potatoes nutritionally with the advantage of being less fickle than annual crops once established.

The rising cost of feed in combination with our fickle local market has forced us to cull our layer flock a bit more dramatically than usual this spring. Honestly, this is probably our own fault… we tend to hold onto our old biddy birds for a lot longer than most egg producers. Part of it that we have traded some economic inefficiency for more naturalized brood-hen behavior. Part of it is that we’re damned softies, and have developed emotional bonds with older birds. What can I say, I’m soft. Still, we do gain some resilience in that we can raise our own replacement hens without needing to order from a hatchery. Should the US Postal Service further degenerate from privatization and a lack of funding, we can do without. The same is not currently true for our turkey program, but we’re working on it. Of all our poultry species, muscovy ducks have really been the most consistent self-replicators, and they’re excellent at foraging. We can produce quite a bit of pastured poultry with very little feed raising muscovies, especially during duckweed season.

Muscovy ducks are awesome foragers and make excellent mothers.

So we can weather climate disruption and feed costs with perennial tree crops, and we can further reduce our reliance on hatcheries and imported feeds by switching to muscovy ducks for our poultry needs, but how can we better deal with rising fossil fuel costs? My answer to this may come as no surprise: we do not invest in systems or infrastructure that would fail without fossil fuels.

I admire all the farms out there I see producing food at scale. I understand full well that producing field scale grains and legumes with draft animals is laborious. Perhaps even inefficient. These activities can, however be practical on the homestead/community level. One example I often see of farming systems and infrastructure heavily reliant on fossil fuels is in pastured poultry. If your pastured poultry shelters can only be moved with a tractor, and the move needs to occur frequently, it is subject to external shocks in the fuel market. Utilizing wagons that can be pulled by draft, human power, or generally less frequently with portable electric fencing cuts down on this vulnerability. Utilizing ruminant grazing instead of tractor mowing on poultry pasture not only reduces the vulnerability, but increases calories per acre, soil health, poultry forage, and parasite control. Similarly, the fuel cost of tilling modest garden and staple plots can be saved when pigs and a nice broadfork are brought into the mix.

A scythe is a great way to combine meditation with exercise, all without using fossil fuels or compacting soil.

We’ve seen how raising livestock can be a liability in our resilient system, or of great benefit, depending on our management. Another current problem that livestock can help buffer against is fertilizer shortages. This is low-hanging fruit, y’all. With repeated and careful management, multi-species pasturing can increase fertility in our paddocks. If we plan and design our shelter systems to facilitate easy manure collection, we will have abundant access to fertility. Even if we choose not to raise livestock, human beings are emitting plenty of their own fertility on a daily basis which can be composted with relative ease and the right neighbors. In the design phase of your resilient farmstead, pay careful consideration to fertility cycling. Do not take imports for granted, do not rely on them being available or affordable. Instead, implement a soil health plan that increases your land’s capacity for fertility by supporting microbial and fungal life, and increasing carbon and organic matter. The principles of regenerative agriculture don’t just apply to the big farms; we’re all more resilient when we pay close attention to the needs of our soil.

Another way we can plan for bad times is by maintaining our own seed and stock genetics. I previously mentioned breeding your own poultry flocks to limit reliance on hatcheries, and obviously, we might consider doing the same with other species, if it matches our scale and breeding goals. Seeds, however, are cheaper to maintain and more fun to sort than animals, so I recommend saving and selecting seeds from open-pollinated vegetable and grain varieties as a great place to start. If a gardener were to plant, say 10% more of each vegetable crop just for seed production, they’d most likely not need to purchase seed for the next year, and will have a surplus to share, barter, or sell. My strategy for seeds has been to stick with what works, what tastes good, and try a few new varieties. Succession planting is also a resilient practice, increasing our odds of having the right timing in our garden. With the exception of transplants, every seed I plant gets replanted two weeks later, and perhaps even two weeks after that. This is an especially helpful practice for prolonging manageable sized harvests rather than having to eat or process your crop all at once.

Our food systems need hardy dispositions, healthy soil, careful selection and thoughtful management. One other key way we can strengthen our systems is in how we handle water. Water capture and storage as well as distribution infrastructure, is of utmost importance on the resilient homestead. A tank or cistern can help, but nothing beats a well-sited pond for year round water access. Beyond collection and irrigation, developing healthy soils which can buffer against both drought and flood conditions (the “fertile, well-drained” soils mentioned in your seed catalog) is a vital step towards water self-sufficiency. A grower can collect and store all the rain they want and still their crop will fail if their garden isn’t well mulched or their pastures are stripped of water-retaining top soils. The subject of building water-smart soils is very dense and may well need a post of its own.

Ponds can not only provide domestic and agricultural water, but food for humans, livestock and wildlife.

On my own farmstead, I’ve had no choice but to evaluate how well I’m doing in these practices. Like everyone, I don’t have all the answers, haven’t honed my own systems to perfection, and am learning through observation everyday. I learn the most by watching our land over time, and being honest with myself. As a homesteader, I’ve worked very hard for the past few years to master new skills, create positive change, and improve my resilience, and it can be tempting to ignore the elephant in the room when a system if failing. Honesty with yourself is the best policy. Responding to geopolitical, economic, and environmental changes is just a part of modern life now. Even the most privileged among us are vulnerable to the external state of affairs. Shift, adapt, and plan for an abundant and resilient future on your homestead and in your community.

Muck, Fire, and Daylight Savings: A Spring Update from Fox Holler Farmstead

We’re in the middle of another marathon kidding season, with no time to relax during the ever lengthening days.

Yesterday I made our first plantings of peas in the garden, which was a bit optimistic. Every year I swear that I’m not going to plant too early, and every year I do so anyway. Only time will tell, I s’pose. It’s been a busy few weeks on the farmstead that only a steady, cold rain could take me away from. Anyhow, here I am again to share with y’all some works in progress made lately, and our plans for the next month as the vernal equinox nears, and we transition back into pasturing, planting, and aiding photosynthesis. Photosynthesis, the process by which plants utilize solar energy and atmospheric carbon to store energy in the form of sugars, is a more literal form of Daylight Savings than the strange form of temporal manipulation we practice here in the U.S. Photosynthesis is the actual storage of sunlight energy. Personally, I’m really not into the practice of shifting the time of day back and forth. While our human constructs and associated schedules shift with the hour, the reality of my day to day requirements remains the same. I must awaken before the sun to tend to our livestock, regardless of the numerical time. If we could instead reclaim the term to mean a more profound practice, then I’m onboard.

Fossil fuel energy originates with sunlight. If we view growing plants as similar to solar panels, and the soil as a battery with enormous potential for capacity, then it follows that fossil fuel extraction is akin to draining that battery. As anyone in an offgrid living situation can probably attest, a battery can be drained until it has completely lost its ability to maintain a charge. Soil loss in the form of depletion, erosion, deforestation, pollution, and “dead architecture” and development decrease the overall holding capacity of the battery beneath our feet. The stakes grow enormously higher when we look at how much carbon we need to sequester in order to slow down our tailspinning climate. As weather extremes and natural disasters increase, we lose more battery capacity. In already brittle climates, like sub-saharan Africa, the Middle East, and the American West, every drought and dry spell damages the resilience of the soils, until they can no longer support vegetation, therefore photosynthesis, and therefore carbon sequestration. 

We are very fortunate here in Northeast Missouri to not be experiencing such acute symptoms of climate instability at this time. In fact, we are very privileged to have access to land that can sustain and support peak photosynthetic processes. And like all privilege, it comes with responsibility. As stewards of the land, we owe it to future generations of all species that we maintain our soil  battery, and raise the production of sunlight sequestered carbon. As a species, we must enact a dedicated program of daylight savings. One in which we endeavor to save every drop of daylight we can in the rich depths of our living soil.

Much of our work this season at Fox Holler Farmstead will be along those lines. We have already begun gathering data on how much carbon we are sequestering with our practices, and will continue to carefully monitor it to determine which practices make a positive difference, and which practices we should stop performing altogether. We’ve engaged in some experimental pasture burning to remove thatch from our paddocks. This will allow more sunlight to reach bare soil between grass clumps, and hopefully allow the grasses to grow more densely. We are making some alterations to our grazing patterns to hit quickly growing spring pastures more frequently before the heat of summer slows growth. And as always, we are planting more trees this year in another attempt to increase the photosynthetic potential of our pasture. Our focus will be on establishing selected hybrid hazelnuts, pecans, paw paws, Asian pear rootstock, forage oaks, and a few highly interesting mulberry specimens. Approximately 130 trees in all are going in next month.

As is always the case this time of year, we are in the middle of goat kidding season. The weather has alternated wildly, even for March, with one night as low as 5 degrees Fahrenheit, and some days reaching the mid 70’s. We’ve had a few cold kids to deal with, and assisted in one birth, but have managed to only lose one kid despite the adverse conditions.

As the cold rain drips outside, and soil temperatures are not yet warm enough for the grasses to break dormancy, right now is an extremely vulnerable time for our pastures. It isn’t appropriate to begin grazing and pasturing our livestock, for fear of denuding land, setting back oh so important vegetative growth. We limit our animals to barns with outdoor loafing yards or sacrifice areas. For the past few years we’ve followed up in these areas by planting quick growing annuals and vegetable crops that can sustain ourselves and our animals. This year will be no exception, but we’ve already been “sowing” these trodden, muddy areas with another important material: sequestered carbon in the form of biochar. 

We’ve been producing biochar since last year and are hoping to reincorporate this important form of stored solar energy back into the soil battery with the natural trompings and stomping behaviors of our pigs, goats, and cattle. I’m excited to see how this will affect the upcoming plantings in this area. I’ll report more on this later in the year.

In the larger scheme of things, in context with the world’s social, political, economic and environmental issues, playing with trees, goats, and biochar may seem overly optimistic. A bit like planting my peas in mid-March. If I knew I was totally alone in doing it, maybe I wouldn’t even bother, and from where I am, it sometimes does seem that way. But I also take some comfort in knowing I’m not the only one out there, putting in this work. Everyone of us who strives make a difference does… some of those peas will push their way out the earth and capture some sun eventually. And when others are there to witness the almost mundane work of supporting photosynthesis, they too may feel the same level of inspiration that I find in the process. I hope that this year we can all see each other’s efforts, and encourage more people to engage with this simple, timeless, and highly important work of stewarding and regenerating Earth’s precious battery.

Project Recap: 2021

Construction on our strawbale home grinds on as the year progresses

Hey y’all. Ben here, with some conflicting feelings about the time of year. On the one hand, it seems like this season of growing, building, and learning has really gone by quick. On the other hand, or maybe on the same hand… I’m not sure which… this summer has been glacial in the consistent farmstead tasks that I have grown weary of. Something I haven’t done at all, admittedly, is update folks on all our doings here at the holler.

2021 was intended to be a year in which we put some of our food growing work on the backburner, so that we could focus energy on expanding our tiny strawbale house into a modest one. Much work remains to be done, but we have a foundation, a roof, most of the walls, and a lot of plaster work completed. We’ll be putting our heads down and pushing through some batches of earthen plaster as long as the weather remains above freezing, for the sake of effective application if not comfort.

Still, in spite of the looming house build, I could not help but plant a quarter acre of chestnut trees this summer, knowing damn well that if I’d done it nine years ago when we started I’d have nuts by now.

Establishing a chestnut orchard on north facing, highly erodible slope

The chestnut orchard is located out on a pasture site that has proven itself to be too fragile for any livestock other than turkeys, who in my observation, are perhaps the lightest on the land of any of our critters. We got our seedlings from Red Fern Farm up in Wapello, Iowa, along with a dozen pawpaw trees for good measure. In addition to all this, we’ve also added in a few more siberian pea shrubs, some plums and peaches, and a couple dozen apple rootstocks… many of which we’ve grafted with PRI scionwood.

We also started up on two exciting soil health projects in 2021, the first of which was submitting samples for assessment to Cornell Soil Health Laboratory. We now have some baseline soil health data to help us determine which practices are most helpful in our goal of increasing the carbon capturing abilities in our pastures and plantings. I hope to write more on the initial assessment and our work going forward in a future blog post.

Our inaugural biochar burn using the Ring of Fire kiln.

This year I also somehow managed to write and receive a grant for a biochar kiln. I expected the application process to be nerve-wracking, as I’m not good at telling people what they want to hear or putting on airs, but by simply filling out the application truthfully, we were somehow deemed worthy of this portable biochar kiln from Wilson Biochar. There was a fair bit of drama for nearly a month when this 7 foot long, 250 pound pallet of steel was somehow missing at a freight depot somewhere between here and Oregon, but the kiln eventually found its way here. Thus far we have produced a couple cubic yards of charcoal by recycling prunings and scrap wood into stabilized carbon. Unlike wood that is allowed to decay, this carbon, if properly handled, has the potential to stay out of the atmosphere for thousands of years. Another benefit of producing stable carbon this way is its ability to bond to nutrients and provide a hospitable environment for beneficial microbes and fungi. This winter we’ll be experimenting with biochar as a bedding medium in our barn, as well as a healthful feed additive.

Of course, in spite of all the construction and mad science experiments on the farmstead, I’ve still managed to get myself in over my head with turkeys, piglets, goat kids, and doing the opposite of what I said I’d do and planting our biggest garden yet. What can I say, I’m just cursed to toil in the soil. Which reminds me that I’d better get some hot sauce blended up before getting to bed tonight. Just thought a recap would be helpful for anyone trying to follow along on our adventure, and a good way for me to recommit to writing, now that the nights have grown longer again.

Butchering Muscovy Ducks

Muscovy Ducks can be a valuable part of the homestead in terms of their light impact, heavy yields of meat, and natural proclivity to survive, thrive and naturally brood. One drawback is how difficult they can be to process. Having raised them for eight or so years now, I have some tricks to share.

I am writing this with the assumption that you have some familiarity with the process of butchering chickens humanely and cleanly. If you are new to home butchering poultry, get acquainted with how its done. There is enough information in the world that I do not need to add to it. I recommend Adam Danforth’s excellent book, I think it’s called Butchering, thought no book can replace hand on experience among others who know what they’re doing. Who knows, we may host some butchering workshops in the future, but I have no plans for that at the moment. This article is an attempt to shed light on some of the nuances in butchering big, fat feathery ducks. I will follow up with a post on how I further handle, process, and preserve duck meat later.

Humane Slaughter

For years, I have not found a great way to induce insensibility in muscovy ducks that I’ve found suitable for my own ethics around humane slaughter. Merely cutting the carotid arteries often leaves the duck upside down in the cone, bloodless, staring back at me, blinking. This is unacceptable. Decapitating with a hatchet, while a seemingly sure bet at quickly making it so the duck cannot feel pain, only works if your swing is good, makes a nasty mess (ducks are real spurters), can be inelegant if not dangerous to the person holding the duck, and in my experience makes for a tougher and more difficult to pluck carcass. Unlike chickens, my attempts at pithing ducks through the mouth haven’t been consistently succesful enough to justify the pain that an unsuccesful pithing may cause. Stunning the duck with a club prior to bleeding is also hit or miss with too high a possibility of inflicting pain without insensibility for my taste.

Fear not, gentle reader, for I have finally found an awesome tool that works every time. Whenever possible, I try not to promote DIY folks to buy stuff, but if you intend on raising ducks for meat, get yourself one of these “Finisher” tools from Adrenal Line. I am not being paid to promote this; frankly I’m not being paid to do anything this time of year.

I simply hold my duck upside down until calm, put it in the kill cone, use the tool as directed, touch the eye to make sure the animal is insensitive (it should not blink) and exsanguinate as I would any bird. Your knife must be very sharp, as always, but particularly with densely feathered, thick skinned ducks. I hone the blade frequently. What follows are a few images for the curious:

The “Finisher” pithing tool
My trust Old Timer, kept sharp
Be sure the duck is calm and serene in the cone before pithing. I hold the bill in so I can easily enter the skull with my pithing tool.
Taking the time to line up the tool before inserting and twisting
Slice the carotid arteries on either side of the duck’s throat just below the jawbone, being careful to avoid cutting the trachea and esophagus. Your knife must be sharp!

A Note on Feathers

In my experience, ducks pluck the best and have a cleaner carcass when they’re at the stage of feather development where the flight feathers at the tip of the wing just begin to cross. This is when they have the fewest pin-feathers.

An example of wing feathers just beginning to cross.

Plucking and Scalding

This is perhaps the most difficult thing about raising meat ducks. I know many folks who, frustrated with the plucking process, give up and skin their ducks. The method we’ve found works best is a hot, long scald combined with using a mechanical plucker. For those doing a dozen or so birds a year, I don’t think the investment in a plucker is worth it. We butcher between 50 and 75 a year, and this is our first year running a plucker.

We scald in a large brew kettle with a high power propane burner. This is one of two things we use propane for on the homestead, the other is scalding pigs. We get the scald water hot, quite hot… almost close to 160 fahrenheit, maybe a hair less for smaller ducks or those with less fat. Fat, being an excellent insulator, protects the meat from cooking at these temperatures, and the water does cool a bit when the duck hits it. Using a potato masher to grip the feet behind the ankle bones, the duck is vigorously plunged for almost a minute, and then we pull on the feathers in a few places to see how easily they can be plucked. When the skin on the feet easily peels, it’s ready for the plucker. It can be 90 seconds or more to get it right… just keep the duck moving and encourage the feathers to get saturated with hot water. Duck down is amazingly water repellent material… it should be wet all the way to the skin for the scald to take. Some folks use soap to penetrate the waterproof oils… we typically do not.

After scalding the duck, one person holds the hot steaming bird aloft while another pulls out the tail and wing feathers that seem to slow the the plucker down. Before this year, we hand plucked… after the machine plucking, there’s still a few minutes of detail cleanup work to do, particularly if you are interested in keeping the heads, and kneck skin. A good hot scald not only makes for a cleaner carcass, it makes for clean feet that can be used in stock.

One note for the machine plucker user: these ducks leave a lot of oil on the rubber fingers of the plucker. Regular cleaning of the fingers will help when you’re a few ducks into your butcher day.


Eviscerating a duck is quite similar to chickens and I won’t address it much here other than to point out a extra treats you might come across in the process, namely the tongue and some extra fat inside the cavity. The little fat knobs can add up on a big day… having a good supply of clean duck fat will be helpful down the line in some of the cured duck products I’ll be detailing next week.

In spite of all the tips, ducks are still far more difficult to process when compared with chickens. I hope you find this helpful, because the end product is amazing in spite of the extra work. My next piece on duck meat will be some of my process for curing duck for hams, rillette, and confit. Until then, I wish you happy plucking with good friends, ‘cuz you’ll need some.

Basic Roast Duck

I’ve noticed that some of our eaters have felt intimidated by preparing whole ducks. In this, the first in a series of posts on raising, and eating, muscovy ducks, I offer a few tips on simple preparations for your whole bird.

Howdy y’all. A have a few caveats before we begin… namely that we use woodheat to cook around here, though I have roasted smaller whole birds in our sun oven before. I personally do not “set my oven temp.” For those of y’all who feel a need for numerical accuracy, sorry. I employ a fair bit of intuition and guesstimation in my cooking, not so much with sausage-making and charcuterie.

The “problem” with ducks

Ducks are generally fat creatures. This is a part of their nature, and one of the reasons why we raise them. As I’ve mentioned before, obtaining fat locally is difficult without animal agriculture. Obtaining it sustainably is even harder without the pasture-based management we employ. Duck fat, when well prepared, is a rich, warming, high quality oil. When a duck is not roasted properly, and the fats do not adequately render or become reabsorbed into flesh and vegetables, what we end up with is a dry bird encased in a thick, rubbery skin. Our aim in roasting a duck is to help the fat migrate. The biggest obstacle is the fat itself.

Meat in general, and moreso fat, is a poor conductor of thermal energy. It takes consistent time at temperature to heat up, especially when encased in a thick layer of insulation. Be sure you have enough time to roast your duck before deciding to do so. Your whole bird should be completely thawed if previously frozen on the day of roasting. My oven temp fluctuates a bit, depending on what we feed it. I err on the low and slow side and crisp the skin at the end.

The skin on your muscovy duck is tough when undercooked. There is a balance to hold between keeping the skin crisp and enjoyable and overcooking the whole bird. I’ll describe my technique for this further on.

One other problem some folks have with ducks is the sight of a few stray pinfeathers, particularly on darker ducks. I’ll cover the plucking techniques that have worked best for us in an upcoming post, but in the meantime I will offer two words of advice: fresh thyme. Its a flavor that it well suited to roast muscovy, camouflages the sight of a few dark specks, and if your duck comes out well, you’ll have forgotten all about a couple stubborn feathers. Of course, a person could perform a quick picking if they had the time on their hands, but I’m never one to reject a little extra protein.

Basic Prep

So you’re standing in the kitchen with your dead duck. Now what? One option is to brine it overnight. A quick brine can thoroughly thaw a frozen duck in a matter of hours, imbue it with flavor, and help the meat retain moisture. This may serve you well in the quest for crispy skin, but don’t let brining stand in as a substitute for proper roasting. I typically reserve poultry brining for less fatty birds, like our heritage turkeys and roosters. My go to brine is 1 cup of kosher salt to 1 gallon of water to 3 cups brown sugar and your favorite herbs. (Tarragon, garlic, thyme, bay and black pepper are mine for poultry.) But you try that out some other day. Instead, what I believe works best, and is far simpler, is rubbing salt and seasoning thoroughly inside and outside the duck, and lightly scoring or pricking the skin to allow the fat to render out a bit. A good amount of root vegetables, fruit, and alliums in the bottom of your roasting pan can reabsorb the excess fat and make for a very flavorful side dish. Adding vegetables will of course increase the thermal mass of your roast, and therefore cooking time. But if it’s as cold at your home today as it is here, the extra time spent around a warm oven is a reward in and of itself.

A rack inside your roasting pan can be helpful, but I don’t own one, and that’s what I use pears and potatoes for. Allow me to say that Asian pears and Muscovy duck are a perfect pairing. I don’t typically stuff my duck, and if I do I mostly just use fruit and onion, because they cook quickly.

Roasting Technique

I roast ducks using a three step procedure: Slow roasting, resting time, and finishing. A nice thing about this is that I can perform the first step early on in my day when I have the couple hours it requires, allow the carcass to rest, and then finish it up before our agreed upon dinner time.

I sometimes use a lid, and sometimes not… it depends. Smaller hen ducks are easier to overcook, so I lid them until the second part of my procedure. With drake ducks that may be 5 or 6 pounds, I start off with the lid off until I’m confident that the contents of the pan are becoming “well-heated”, and use the lid to keep the duck from drying out. It is possible to burn poultry and undercook it at the same time. Please don’t. Look at your duck regularly. You can carefully flip your bird over to even out the cooking if need be. In our wood cook stove, I often do this, but not as much in the earthen oven. If you have an instant-read probe thermometer, use it. I plunge it into the thigh and try to get it to 150 or 155 fahrenheit at resting. Another technique is to poke around the thigh with a knife. Liquid will run out… it should be clear, and not pinkish or red. This first round of roasting should achieve three things: meld flavors and render fat, thoroughly cook the meat, and break down tendons and connective tissues in the bird. A good way to make sure your duck will be tender is to manipulate the leg and thigh… do they move freely, does the flesh tear? Or is it stiff and difficult to move? We’re going for the former

Allow the duck to rest at room temp for at least 30 minutes. Now may be a good time to spoon out extra fat and meat juice for making a gravy. After the duck has cooled, kick up your fire or turn a knob, whichever technology suits you, and quickly flash roast it, until the breast crisps up and turns brown. A light application of soy sauce or tamari is a cheater way of getting the color right. It may take another 20 or 30 minutes to get the skin crispy. Just remain observant. After another, shorter 10 minute resting period, carve it, serve it, eat it all.

If you are still unsatisfied with the skin on your duck, no worries. It ain’t for everyone. With this technique we have extracted the most important part of the skin, the fat, and reutilized it in our gravy and vegetables. What remains, along with your finished bones and carcass bits can be worked into a broth. I personally like to paint my duck bones with tomato paste and roast them before splitting and cooking. The acidic paste can help in extracting nutrients in the bone, and unlike vinegar, is not sour. But make sure to scan the back of your duck for the oysters, a couple of real tasty bits near the thighs. Scoop them out and eat them, they’re right up there with the tongues as the best part of the duck.

I will be putting up a few more recipes this month for duck: breast steaks, carnitas, soup, and a quick confit before moving into some instructions for processing, curing and sausage making. Got any questions about preparing duck? Contact me please! Muscovy ducks have been a staple food source for us on our homestead, and I’ve been working on my techniques from hatch out to hatchet for 8 years. I hope they will serve your own nutrition, if not your homestead, as well as they have ours.

Trees and Shrubs for the Chicken Forest Garden

Chickens evolved in the jungle. How can we improve our pasture and poultry well-being by planting trees?

You can take the fowl out of the jungle…

Howdy y’all. I might be writing this in part to feel better about the rather large chunk of change we’re investing in trees this year, but also to hopefully provide some food for thought in regards how you can begin designing a multi-layered forest garden for your flock. As with every how-to on the internet, your mileage may vary, dependent on climate, location, goals, flock size, management, et cetera, but I hope this can get the creative juices flowing in these doldrum days of slush and ice.

If we take the birds’ eye view on this, many of us have learned through experience that chickens love forests. The floors of forests provide a thick, fluffable medium of leafmold to scratch through for bugs and other tidbits. The umbrella like cover can not only offer protection from aerial predators and the elements, but can provide dry, shaded duffy areas for dust-bathing. And as anyone with semi-feral birds might tell you, they appreciate the roost space. I’ll note here and now that allowing your birds to naturally roost outdoors is an invitation to predation without working dogs, so please do not conflate a stand of trees with year round safe shelter. Large combed varieties in particular may not fare well in winter weather if allowed to roost outside on freezing nights.

Still, woodland pasturing of chickens, with attention to the health of soil and vegetation is a valuable practice, with careful observation and management. Here in Northeast Missouri, our climaxed ecosystem is something closer to “prairie oak savanna”, with tree cover accounting for approximately 20 percent of the overall space on healthy landmasses. In many parts of our chicken pasture, I am attempting to land on a similar pattern, with a wider variety of fruiting shrubs and trees for the benefit of chicken and chicken-keeper, though I am also working on denser plantings to create more “jungle” for our birds.

In this post I will evaluate some species we’ve been trying for our poultry forest garden, and offer some advice on implementing your own chicken-centric plantings. My personal evaluations are based on what these plantings can provide in terms of nutrition, shelter, and soil health/erosion mitigation.

The Canopy Layer

The long term overstory of a chicken forest garden is an ideal place for trees which drop their fruits after ripening. Attentive pruning to keep birds from climbing trees can help fruit reach full ripeness. This can be particularly useful with high value crops you intend to share with your poultry. While any fruit or nut trees that grow well in your area might very well be fine, (with the added bonus of having some pest/disease control as a result of pasturing birds with them) I’m focusing on a trees that aren’t fussy or particularly expensive. Many of these can be pruned to maintain a smaller size if desired, as an overly dense canopy can reduce grass growth and therefore the overall nutrition available to your birds. Again, I’ve found that at 20% canopy is about as dense as I think is workable for our system here, and so I admit that “Chicken Prairie Savanna” may be a more accurate, less catchy name for my planting approach.


Mulberry cannot be approached for its vigorous growth, precocious fruit-bearing qualities, and desire to live in spite of the elements. Red and black mulberry fruits are very attractive to chickens and can lend a nice, deep tint to egg yolks. If you’re fond of eating them yourself, the white/lavendar fruited varieties do not stand out so strongly, and you’re more likely to glean a good harvest for yourself. Some mulberry cultivars, such as Illinois Everbearing can produce crops somewhat continuously through the season. Weeping types can also provide shelter and entertainment for your birds. Mulberry trees are dioecious, meaning that only the female plant bear fruit, and they aren’t easy to tell apart. You can graft female scions onto male rootstock. I chose to order some quality mulberry trees from Burnt Ridge Nursery in order to propagate my own scionwood, and typically transplant weed seedlings (wild birds drop the seeds absolutely everywhere) for the purpose of grafting onto. I’m linking to Burnt Ridge because many of the plants in this article can be purchased from them, their trees are well-packed and of superb quality, and they have a wide variety of cultivars. They aren’t paying me, in fact, I’ve been paying them, for years.

I maintain some of our mulberries as large trees, and others are coppiced, pollarded, or otherwise kept smaller so the chickens can get their share before the wild birds.


Crabapples work great as chicken fodder for the opposite reason as mulberries: their fruits stubbornly hang on to the tree, gradually dropping off in the winter time with the freeze and thaw. This makes them a nice off-season treat in the year round pasture. They tend to bear heavily when established, so there’s plenty available for jams, jellies, and pies, well before the chickens get the squishy remains, and they typically fare better in the organic setting than regular apples. The creative orchardist can graft some eating apple branches on in places to diversify their yield. I am happy with the ‘Dolgo’ cultivar for flavor and growth habit.

Honey Locust

Sometimes nothing I do draws more ire than promoting honey locust, but I can’t help but put it in here, because I like to put a little everywhere. Honey Locust, for the uninitiated, is an extremely thorny, pod bearing tree that will grow in the most barren, soil-stripped locations. The small, vetch-like leaves provide an excellent dappled quality in their shade, which does much to allow light through to the grasses beneath. Furthermore, it can fix nitrogen in the soil, and has a gnarly root system that can help with the erosion issues we all know chickens can create.

The sugar and protein rich pods are not particularly attractive to chickens in my experience, though both our turkeys and muscovy ducks have been seen to pick them apart. I’ve ground up the pods as well as sprouted the seeds and have had better luck that way. Honey Locust developed an intense armor of big, nasty thorns as a response to prehistoric megafauna. Chickens are much less destructive, so if I’m planting Honey Locust, I go with the thornless type. While not particularly beneficial to the chicken per se, these are great trees to plant in high traffic, eroded, or slopey spaces in your chicken pasture just to ensure there’s something anchoring the soil. I do absolutely recommend these if you have goats or other ruminant livestock as an alternative feed source. Think of these as support plants, to help you reclaim problem areas for planting more valuable trees later down the line.

The Understory

The understory of my chicken forest garden is comprised of dwarfed varieties of the above named trees, and a few additional shelter plantings. For the purposes of designing my chicken forest garden I find the understory and canopy to be a bit interchangeable, though I find the following trees are most useful if maintained on the smaller side.

Eastern Red Cedar

This one’s almost as maligned as the Honey Locust, and I can understand why, as a person attempting to grow apples organically. They do harbor Cedar Apple Rust, a very troublesome fungal infection, but by planting resistant varieties of apple and removing many of the existing cedars on our land, I hope that I’ll be able to have some control over the issue. As far chickens go, cedars are great. Other short, squat evergreen trees can have the same benefits as Eastern Red Cedar, but that’s what grows here. I will be attempting to plant some arbor vitae and pine to simulate the growth pattern of cedars, and will dutifully report back on how it went at a later time.

Anyhow, why do I like Eastern Red Cedar? I really don’t, but it seems to be the favored shelter tree for our flock. It provides thick, dense cover from snow, rain, beating sun and hawks, as well as a nearly impenetrable windblock. Beneath the cedars is a microclimate that sucks up and slowly releases warmth on cold sunny days and provides cool earth in the summertime. Our chickens spend so much time under them that some natural dustbaths have formed there. A problem with cedars other than Cedar Apple Rust is that they tend to shade out grass growth. I think no more than one or two per 1/4 acre is ideal. As far as human use, I too have taken shelter on the leeward side of a cedar during a blizzard, and the little berries are a key component in my home-cured pancetta.


Willows are so happy to exist here, and so quick to establish that they’re a sure way to create some for of shelter in a hurry for your flock. They have the added benefit of growing useful polewood for natural perches in your coops and wagons. A line of willows spaced at 2 to 4 feet will become an excellent windblock for exposed sites in a matter of a couple years. Our main willow planting is located just downslope of our winter chicken housing, where excess nutrient runoff can be reabsorbed into carbonaceous biomass. By employing coppice management, your planting can be harvested annually not only for polewood but easy chipping woody mulch.

The Shrub Layer

The shrub layer is perhaps the best place to locate perennial chicken nutrition: where they can reach it. Every ecosystem has a few shrubs that are happy to exist and provide abundant fruit. This is the perfect place for those not-to-tasty but well-adapted plants.

Siberian Pea Shrub

Ah yes. The classic suggestion from Bill Mollison’s Big Black Permaculture Book. Siberian Pea Shrub is exactly what it sounds like: a shrub from one of the harshest climates on Earth that produces protein rich peas. I’ve been establishing these in every paddock and had my first small crop last year. They are doing very well in our over-exposed clay-rich Missouri sidehill. The peas are small and digestible, but it would take an impossibly large planting to meet the primary protein requirements for our flock. Tough as nails, a good soil anchor, just stick it in the ground and watch it grow.

We’ve had a 100% success rate planting these, even over time as they’ve been abused by goats, deer, drought and flood.


Our farm makes a small but growing portion of our income from selling elderberry tincture. Elder has been very easy for us to start from cuttings, and so naturally we have it everywhere. Similarly to the aforementioned willows, elderberries thrive in rich soil, so our main plantings are downslope of our winter pig yard and chicken range. The thin, flexible branches are too light to support the weight of a chicken, so they must wait patiently to consume whatever drops during harvest. Our chickens love resting in the dappled shade of elder, pecking stray fruits, and subsequently providing some novelty blue chicken shit.

Dogwood/Cornelian Cherry

Dogwoods work well for us because they already exist all over our pasture. Their dense, scrubby growth makes a favorite place for hens with clutches of little chicks. They hold soil in firmly where chicken disturbance is an issue, and the Cornelian Cherry type produce an abundance of bright red late season fruits that our birds love, far more than we do, to be honest. An awesome producer, very responsive to fertility and wet soils.


A shrubby relative of the apple, serviceberries produce small, soft blueberry-like fruits with a mild taste. They are hardy as all get out and produce well after establishment. We keep a few for our own personal eating (they’re one of the earlier available fruits here) and have a bunch for the chickens. If you can keep the rabbits off of them, they won’t need much more in terms of maintenance.

Various Bramble Fruits

Blackberries, raspberries, dewberries, or whatever does best in your location are an obvious choice for the chicken pasture. Ours are worked into a dense, multi-species hedge that the birds often shelter in. Low-hanging fruits and drops are usually gobbled up, and I get a few handfuls a day from the higher up portions. Extra thorny wild types can provide some barrier or safety from predation, but you know me, I’m pro thorn.

The Herbaceous Layer

Tender, tasty, and healthy greens are an important part of your flock’s overall diet. Some, like comfrey, will keep coming back, though being able to allow time for regrowth will keep your patches in better health. I use white clover in all my pasture mixes, and whenever I have the opportunity to reseed bare soil, such as when digging tree holes, or when the chickens have been in a paddock for longer than is ideal. It generally seems successful in taking year round, but I think my best plantings have occured in late winter during freeze/thaw cycles. (Think maple tapping time). Spread it on a new moon if you’re feeling extra magical.

Good pasture management for chickens requires that we fix any disturbance we create. In terms of grass seeds, asking someone at your local farm supply what people are planting right now is a good way to figure out what you ought to be seeding. I’ve had good luck planting little plugs of tough perennial native grasses in degraded areas… so far Eastern Gama Grass has established best for me, though Indian grass and Little Bluestem also hold some promise.

Medicinal herbs for chickens, such as oregano, thyme, and wormwood may all have a place in your design. While some birds may have a propensity to self-medicate as needed, you may have to harvest these yourself if you wish to include them in their diet.

The Underground Layer

Turnips and beets are a regular part of my pasture seed mix for filling in bare spots, though to be fair, those are annuals, and the pigs find them first. Sunchokes are, as always, a clear choice for utilizing underground growing space on pasture. They can quickly form a thicket of tall, stalky, sunflowers for shelter/windbreak, and subsequently be unearthed late in the year for a treat. Our chickens don’t really get to excited by them unless they resprout, but our ducks do like a nibble.

Establishing and maintaining your plantings

So those are a few exciting plantings for your chicken project. Great. But what observations have you made in regards to your existing pasture? Are there trees already there? Do they serve a function in your project? Have you seen the chickens interact with the space for a full year of seasons? It can be tempting to clear space for something exciting, and even more tempting to order a great bunch of trees that you’ll have to care for. I’m very familiar with the feeling. Still, if this is an idea you’ve only begun to explore, take some time to make appropriate and careful site observations. Notice how water flows over the land in wet weather, which spots are prone to flooding or drying out. What are the chickens’ natural patterns of travel, and what are your own natural patterns of travel when performing chores. Is there enough space for a portable coop? Wagon? Truck or tractor?

In general, it’s probably best to locate your tree plantings away from fencelines. Trees can be a springboard to allow predators in, or chickens out, and over time they can ruin your fence.

When planting trees, its important to remember that chickens are naturally curious about soil disturbance. Overturned soil and the base of a seedling is an invitation to scratching and dustbathing, and therefore root disturbance. I’ve seen hens scratch so vigorously that they’ve kicked particularly shallow rooted seedlings out of the ground. And the only thing more attractive to a chicken besides bare earth is bare earth with some straw on top. Many of my best foragers show up at the plantings site as soon as they see a shovel. As much as I love the relationship between chickens and trees, they suck to plant trees in front of.

What has been most successful in my experience is to create an impenetrable ring around my new seedlings for the first three or four years. A sturdily supported ring of tight wire fencing, all exposed dirt seeded to white clover, thick mulch and some heavy chunks of wood to deter scratching is the baseline, in addition to whatever rodent protection you might need. Our chicken orchard also has pigs in it on occasion, so I use two t-posts per tree guard.

In order to keep low growing fruit on your plants until fully ripe, exclusion by way of rotational pasturing/paddocking is essential. Different cultivars may have different ripening times, so with some creative planning and a good spreadsheet, a chicken orchard can be planned out week by week for some part of the season.

In all, I continue to work on our own chicken/tree program because I’ve come to believe that pasturing chickens in the mainstream way, across broad fields of grass, is severely limiting to what a chicken is, and does. The time, effort, and energy required to move hundreds of chickens multiple times a day (in pastured broiler settings) may be toward a worthy environmental cause, but it comes at the cost of expecting the flock of chickens to behave like something other than a flock of chickens. I do believe that rotational pasturing of chickens is important, in terms of chicken health, soil health, and human health. Unfortunately, pasturing in chicken tractors is a two-dimensional solution for an animal that was meant to exist in three. When the financial bottom line is not the bottomest of lines, as in our project, we have more room for diversity in habitat, full range of chicken expression, a multiplicity of yields, and sue me if I’m wrong, a better tasting product. So please, take the dive, and plant a jungle for your domesticated jungle fowl.

Why we’ve stuck with kunekune pigs

Some folks view kunekune pigs as impractical for meat production. Here’s why we think they make sense in a sustainable, local, decentralized food system.

Kunekune pigs can thrive without imports in a well-designed pasture/orchard system. They are easy to handle, lighter on the land than other breeds of pig, and yield a nice amount of fat that would otherwise be difficult to obtain off the land in a small-scale food project.

I began my pastured pig journey with Esmerelda, a 300 pound Yorkshire/Hereford gilt. We purchased her from a local pastured pork farmer who was downsizing and still saw the value she held for a family looking to get into raising pigs. She came to us with a ringed nostril, and already bred to a very friendly, large, and well put together Red Wattle boar named Mike.

Esmerelda remained gentle and sweet, for most of the time we raised her. After a few months she lost her ring and due to our own ethical, welfare based practices, decided not to apply a new one. Pigs evolved as rooting creatures, gleaning a high proportion of their nutrition from beneath the dirt. We do not choose to engage in animal rearing practices that deprive the beast of its nature. Ringing hogs or raising them in a concrete floored pen take away from a pig its essential behaviors.

However, as Esmerelda and her litter grew, it became apparent that allowing them to gain their entire nutritional needs from the land would leave the place a scarred, ragged, barren mess. While I believe that in some instances, this behavior can be harnessed for preparing large seedbeds for gardens or staple crop plantings, the ecological risks of continuing to raise standard size pigs in this manner were too high for our sloped site and degraded soils. The pigs, in spite of their pasture access, required large amounts of feed. We were selling ourselves and our labor short by paying for it all and trying to keep our product cost reasonable enough for our market. There’s an old adage among swine farmers: “You’re not feeding them to save money, you’re feeding them to make money.” This has never jived with my viewpoint on what makes livestock rearing sustainable.

After two litters, that never lost money, but never quite felt like the work I was trying to accomplish, we finally had Esmerelda slaughtered. While she was a gentle pig, yes, she was a gentle 450 pound sow, and as such was entitled to do what she wanted. And pigs are smart, let me tell you. Esmerelda knew the difference between walking into a trailer for a romantic rendezvous with Mike and walking into a trailer to head to a home butcher. It took nearly two weeks to gain her consent to enter it for her final time. I ultimately gained her trust by lying spread-eagle inside of it. A dozen people could not make her step in. One reason I chose to raise smaller pigs is that I believe transporting pigs to be generally traumatic for all involved. They are social/herd creatures, and fear separation more then death. Smaller pigs are more practical to butcher at home.

I took a season off from raising pigs, almost two year of obtaining infrastructure and investing countless hours and dollars into the pig project. I smoothed and seeded the various craters left by our herd and focused on other projects. It seemed that raising pigs as best I could according to my principles, was not sustainable, emotionally, financially, or emotionally.

Six months later, I purchased two kunekune gilts.

Some pigs are just built different

“Kunekune” is the Maori word for “fat, round”. Kunekune pigs are indeed stocky. Their key physical features are their small stature, flattened facial structure (pug pigs) that make them ill-suited to deep rooting, and hairy bodies. They sometimes have wattles. As a lard type breed, they are metabolically over-efficient, prone to huge fatness, for lack of a better term. This means they can still grow and gain weight with lighter feed requirements. They can thrive on grass alone, under proper conditions, though I believe that their full function as part of a domestic food project should include utilizing food waste such as cull fruits, vegetables, dairy/butchering byproducts and table scraps.

Personality wise, kunekunes are generally docile and good-natured. Three years into my kunekune project I am still working through the ins and outs of my management, pasture designs, and final infrastructure. I hope share my experience with y’all as time goes on, but for now I’d like to outline some reasons why the little pigs have big potential in a sustainable food system.

“You’re not feeding them to make money”

Let’s abandon that old adage, the one about feeding them to make money. In fact, let’s abandon the entire concept that using millions of acres of fertile, arable land to raise livestock feed is long-term solution for how to feed 7 billion (and counting) humans. Let us instead, return to an older concept, one that has been true for the bulk of agricultural history: A pig’s function in human food systems is to convert wasted calories into useful calories. If you consuming are dairy, fruit, vegetables, meat or grain products, there is inevitably some portion of nutrients produced by labor and fertility resources that is under-utilized, or to put it bluntly, wasted. For those of y’all who grow a garden, tend an orchard or work in a brewery, bakery, or restaurant, you know this.

While I do not believe “waste” feeds are appropriate as the whole of our pigs’ diet, it can comprise a large proportion of what they consume. Whey and other dairy byproducts have been a really awesome source of nutrition for our herd. By meeting the majority of our produce needs at home, there is always a supply of cull vegetables like unripe squash and root crops that are too small to bother with, and damaged fruit. We’ve also had success with feeding bean, sweet potato, and squash vines after harvest. By utilizing nutrition this way, the yield of our other food raising efforts is increased, and the pig herd becomes an integrated part of the system, rather than apart from it, their feed imported, grown on vast tracts of land that could serve a higher purpose. Of all the breeds of swine, kunekunes are perhaps the best suited to being maintained in this manner.

Yes, all pigs can eat pumpkins with reckless abandon. Most of them will continue to need imported grain from row crops in order to thrive. Not so for kunekunes. The other feeding behavior that sets these pigs apart is their ability to eat grass effectively, without causing near as much soil disturbance as larger, longer snouted pigs. Too much candy in the form of cull feeds can cause some lack of enthusiasm for grasses, not to mention create overly fat pigs, and so after some early mistakes, I’ve learned to keep them a little on the hungry side. I also feed hay to our pigs in winter when the grasses are dormant and the pastures are fragile. Our kunekunes do an especially good job with Reed’s Canary Grass, a prevalent, low value forage in our parts. Most grazing animals find Reed’s Canary unpalatable much of the year. We’ve had goats straight up refuse to eat the hay in winter, even when nothing else was available. (That was the winter of two-thousand-and-froze-to-death, when my only recourse was to harvest willow saplings and honey locust pods daily to keep the goat herd alive and thriving.) Reed’s Canary takes over wide swaths of land when it’s happy, by spreading runners, suffocating competition from more valuable plants with its thick mats of thatch. We’ve lost many trees in the establishment phase to its creeping, nutrient sapping nature. Our pigs have not only utilized this marginal land for our nutritional benefit, they may be keeping it at bay, hopefully creating the potential to have more succesful plantings in these areas.

Other margins that kunekunes thrive in are along draws and in our wooded areas. At this point I feel it’s important to differentiate between careful, conscientious forest grazing (pannage) and letting some pigs in the woods and hoping for the best. Pigs, in their natural state, are forest creatures. They can derive all their nutrition from fruit, nuts, grubs and bugs, vegetation and roots. While the disturbance they cause can be important in a healthy, climaxed forest, provided their population is balanced and in-check, we have a responsibility as good stewards to manage forest grazing with great care. We allow brief access with careful observation during the heat of summer, when the ground is too dry to harm and the shade has value, and in autumn when the floor is littered with acorns and fresh leaves, so long as the soil is frozen or dry. All pigs cause disturbance. Kunekunes cause far less, and pose a reduced risk to fragile soils.

Speaking of trees, kunekunes have become a major part of our orchard management. The concept of moving pigs through an orchard to clear up fruit drops is nothing new. It is an excellent way to naturally control overwintering pest populations in rotten fruit, and we apply similar principles in our garden spaces by using kunekunes to clear crop residues. Here again, kunekunes have an advantage over other breeds as they are less likely to damage tree roots. Here at Fox Holler Farmstead, we’re taking this tree/pig relationship to its logical next level, by introducing species into our pig pasture that can provide both human and swine nutrition, such as pears, peaches, mulberries, apples, hazel, chestnut, and oak. As time goes on we hope to incorporate a wide range of genotypes that can provide continuous harvests throughout the season. It is important to note that we use principles of rotational grazing to ensure the overall health of our pastures. Our herd generally has grazes 1/4 acre of pasture at a time, typically for up to a week before moving on. When soils are wet or the pigs’ innate need for a waller is triggered by warm weather we are sure to give them access to a central barnyard and sacrifice area, so they can exhibit their full pigness and make some mud. Do not expect to raise pigs humanely without providing a waller.

Kunekune or not, all pigs will create disturbance when raised in a natural, humane manner. It is important that the grower takes a serious commitment to ameliorating all damage to soils and vegetation. I view this as an opportunity to increase my pasture diversity. After the pigs move to a new paddock, I smooth out these areas and rake in a seasonally appropriate seed or seed mix. I also typically follow up with a scythe and use the resultant mulch to retain moisture at freshly seeded areas. We often use poultry to follow up our pig grazing to break up and spread out manure and interrupt fly and parasite cycles. I don’t do this if an area has been recently reseeded, or otherwise needs rest immediately, such as in drought or dormancy.

All pigs can gain benefits both nutritionally and welfare wise from these practices, and I believe all pigs should. Kunekunes, in my opinion, get a lot more mileage from these practices, with the added benefit of causing less damage and leaving a smaller resource hoofprint. As a caveat, pigs need essential vitamins, minerals, amino acids and other nutrients. I have not entirely ended my reliance on feeding grain yet. I offer some barley and wheat along with hay, milk and squash in the wintertime, and thus far have not found an elegant way to feed nursing sows and little weanlings without some grains and legumes. It is my intention to share with y’all when I do. That said, I especially recommend trying out a few pigs if you are already raising dairy animals and making cheese at home, because the relationship between dairying and hog-rearing is obvious. I also recommend that you get a few milk goats if you’ve already got some pigs and more room for trouble in your life.

Effective, responsible woodland grazing requires careful observation.

Quality nutrition on a sustainable, local scale

So, I’ve laid out an overview on how kunekune pigs can provide a sensible, lighter impact alternative to standard pork breeds, in terms of how we can accommodate their feed requirements in a closed loop system. The flip side is how, at least in our climate and environment (heavy clay sidehill, zone 5b) pork from kunekunes can fill an important niche in our own diets.

Kunekunes are a lard breed. In our recent past, before intercontinental travel became the norm for how our food came to our table, lard has been the most important, prevalent source of fat for a large proportion of the human population. In the our temperate climate, the most likely sources for a different form of cooking oil come from corn, soy, canola, peanuts and sunflower: all crops that require vast spaces, regular tillage, and are typically raised as monocultures requiring heavy imports of fertilizer, pesticides, etc… If you are reading this from the coasts or tropics, feel free to obtain your essential fats from coconuts, olives, fish, avocados, or what have you. As of this moment, my area is something of an icy hell-scape, so those options aren’t realistic. I won’t even approach the problematic nature of monoculture palm oil production. In terms of plant based oils in my climate, I think only tree nuts such as hazel come even close to the potential for sustainable local fat production as lard. There are other animal based fats that can be raised in sustainable manner, but pigs create prodigious amounts of it, and kunekunes were bred to pack it on extremely well.

Lard from pasture-raised pigs is nutritionally superior to confinement lard, or any fat associated with confinement animals. It is rich in vitamin D, one of a few natural sources besides mushrooms, pasture raised eggs, and the sun.

The meat of kunekunes itself is richly laced with flavorful fat. I’m always sure to talk this aspect up to our potential customers. Some people choose to avoid fat in their meat and make up for it with highly processed cooking oils with heavy embodied energy. But if you know, you know. Excess fat within our meat is saved in jars during the cooking process and reused for cooking vegetables, in addition to the glorious, delicately flavored leaf lard we keep on hand for pastries and the savory backfat that we use rendered, cured, or to fill out our leaner goat and chicken sausages. When well rendered, lard is shelf stable, and a preservative in and of itself. On our homestead we use clean rendered lard to exclude air from our jars of cured pork confit and duck rillettes.

While these pigs are plenty chubby, there beneath the blubber they contain some of the most deeply flavored, rich meat you can find on a pig. Between their clean, varied, grass-based diet and their slow maturity rate (We typically begin butchering our pigs at 18 months, 3 times older than standard butcher hogs) the flavor of kunekune is exquisite, the color of the flesh being a deep red. The complex, grassy flavor of the meat combined with the high ratio of creamy fat makes kunekune pork an excellent medium for home charcuterie. While the tiny chops and roasts are as cute as they are delicious, its how well our pork takes to salt, smoke, and age that sets it above anything else I’ve tasted.

Some of our home-cured, 90 day aged kunekune pancetta.

For the home butcher, the small stature of a kunekune makes them much easier to process. We avoid the stress caused to ourselves and our pigs by forgoing the traumatic trailer loading, not to mention the risk of not getting what we want from the professional butcher by offering the pig a calm, dignified death at home. At 18 months, our pigs yield about 80 pound of meat on average. We can pick them up without a tractor, transport them in a wheelbarrow, scald them in a bathtub, and handle the smaller amounts of meat quickly and cleanly with minimal refrigeration and infrastructure, if well-planned. I will explore the intricacies of home butchering kunekune pigs in later posts. The smaller hams and bellies make it much easier to succesfully dry-cure for the beginning home butcher. We typically bone out our hams and stitch them inside a casing made from the stomach to ensure a quality homestead cured product.

Kunekune pork is pleasing to both the utilitarian grower and the foodie. While the market for this unique pork is still untapped and unexplored, I hope and expect that it gains momentum as more folks turn to humane and sustainable alternatives to mainstream animal products.

Personality goes a long way.

An aspect to raising kunekunes both technical and emotional is that they are extremely agreeable in nature. They are not just docile, they’re downright sweet. They’ve been much less obstinate than our red wattle crosses, and even when they’re being rude or pushy, they can easily be managed by gentle physical pressure. I’m talking nudging, not even pushing. Most pigs enjoy some amount of belly-rubbing, but kunekunes relish it. They’re even open to cuddles.

While managing and maintaining a boar can be challenging with standard sized breeds of pig, kunekune boars are typically laid back, friendly, and affordable to feed. In fact, their propensity to gain weight is so advanced that our boar really doesn’t require much feed at all. The mothering instinct in the sows is excellent, and so long as a healthy weight is maintained they are less likely to rollover on piglets. I have not found any special farrowing infrastructure necessary beyond a good shelter and a fluffy nest of hay. I sincerely doubt there are many instances of kunekune sows harming their piglets as there are in industrial settings. In fact, we’ve had difficulty keeping our sows from nursing each other’s litters.

Keeping breeding stock is so much cheaper with kunekunes that it really puts it in the hands of small scale growers and homesteaders. I hope that this results in advancing the breed toward purposes of increased sustainabilty, a direction that conventional industrial breeders have little intention to go.

These are just some charming pigs.

End times swine

In my likely unpopular view, I am preparing for two futures: One in which humanity realigns with its deepest values of caring for the earth and everything on it, including itself, or some form of total breakdown of our existing order. And either way, providing food that is light on resources and can be raised with minimal imports of grain and fuel. that can be managed and implemented on the local and community scale, in concert with other practices of equal importance and ecological vigor is a necessity. In the eyes of many, these fine little pigs may not stack up to a big honkin’ hawg. I think that in a global food system confronted with resource depletion, supply chain failures, environmental catastrophe and malnutrition, “feeding ’em to make money” just won’t cut it for much longer. I’m sticking with kunekunes.

2020 in review

Hey y’all. I am fully aware that for lots of folks, 2020 was not a great year, from toilet paper shortages to overstuffed morgues, fascism on the rise to certain economic ruin for the working class. I can’t begin to reflect on our own year here on the farmstead without first acknowledging the considerable pain folks are going through. Make no mistake that the coronavirus pandemic is, in essence, an environmental disaster, the result of a global human culture gradually infiltrating corners of our planet’s wilderness in search of food.

I lay no blame at folks who eat bats and pangolins, just like I lay no blame at folks who eat Oscar Mayer bologna. The vast majority of “consumers” in this time are victims of an extractive economic system. It was made worse, particularly in the US, by the politicization of all things, for the gain of a select few. It has revealed shortcomings and vulnerabilities in our social and material systems. I don’t have the answers for how to shift that, at least not the answers anybody is going to like, but I did see some promising signs that slow and small solutions exist. We’re going to need them, for the systemic effects of this pandemic will pale in comparison to a future of climate instability. If folks started 2020 by hoarding toilet paper, imagine 2035…

When I imagine 2035, from where I’m standing now, I see outcroppings of hazel and elder along the borders of verdant silvopasture orchards, pigs lazing beneath chestnuts and heartnuts… ducks, turkeys and chickens waddling, strutting and pecking through the oakleaf duff. Contented cows and goats ruminate in the shade after a morning spent grazing native grasses and forbs. Fatter and lazier, I inspect the gardens, because the kids are running the show now. I’ve run out of places to plant trees, maintenance to perform… neighbors are welcome to grab a bushel of apples. We have abundance to offer to many, and this is normal now, as our culture values resilience over the quick fix.

I can’t speak for the rest of our culture, but if I had 15 more 2020s, I’m pretty sure there’d be a lot of chestnuts available around here. In 2020, we had a lot of success in planting trees, improving pastures, raising new types of livestock, honing our homestead skills, and winnowing away some practices and ideas that weren’t serving the project. I had the opportunity to make new friends, meet new eaters, and expand infrastructure. Being a person who enjoys my space, social distancing and isolation has me looking forward the first half of 2021. I’ve had the chance to share our bounty with some new folks, and almost none of them have had the chance to see my face without a mask, which probably helped sales. We’ve always worked hard to grow what we can, but 2020 was the first year that it felt like we did more than break even… at least it appears that way now on day 3 of my year end book-keeping. Also, I’m heavily pro-rating or straight up ignoring some infrastructure upgrades, for my personal emotional health. Here’s a few examples of the lessons, observations and gradual steps forward we’ve made this year.

Our pig program has actually profited financially and dare I say, ecologically, for the first time since we began. I started the year off by acquiring bulk waste food products from an industrial recycling facility, in hopes that turning food waste into swine feed would be a viable and sustainable alternative to using arable land to grow grains for livestock. While I maintain that there is still some potential in this practice, particularly for those raising more typical breeds of pigs, the high calorie, low fiber, low nutrition base of our western diet proved to unhealthy for our kunekune pigs. After two months of witnessing our breeding stock grow too fat to breed, I fazed out the “candy” as we called it, and returned to a mixed diet of grass, hay, vegetables, organic barley and some sprouted wheat as a treat.

Come grazing season, inserting the pigs into our pasture rotation sort of fell into place. We gradually learned to move goats and cows into the paddock first, to bring the grass back into a regrowth pattern. After adequate rest, the pigs were moved in to graze and stimulate growth once again, keeping the grasses in a state of vegetative stasis. We learned that given enough time, the pigs will eat the entire paddock down very nicely, seldom testing the fence. A bit more time for rest and regrowth and a poultry flock was allowed to glean what they could from the same paddock, kicking and spreading dung and removing potential parasites and their invertebrate hosts.

While we have no signs of pregnancy in our sows yet, I can formally state that I have witnessed acts of consumation by our breeding stock, and the new diet seems to have promoted the desired effect.

At year’s end we commenced to home butcher a few pigs… more than we had initially set out to handle. While I’d always been holding that we’d do at least a couple of them on our own because of all the unique products that can be made, not to mention being able to perform a true zero waste slaughter, and how much more humane it is to slaughter a pig without transporting it away from the only world it knows, it soon became a necessity, as Covid 19 put serious strain on our local butcher shops. I am so thankful for the opportunity this problem afforded us.

We had a lot more eaters for our pork this year, many of them from outside the bubble of our local-er community, which has been very encouraging. I love working with folks that share similar passions about food, and being able to customize a whole side of pork to meet their household needs and culinary fantasies is rewarding in and of itself. I feel like I’ve really managed to hone my butcher craft this year, and have no intention of putting a pig into someone else’s hands for the purpose of slaughter ever again. I don’t care what the law is.

A final note on feeding our pigs: I’ve always known that pumpkins and squash make excellent nutrition for our pigs part of the year. This year I learned how valuable field beets, like mangelwurzel, can be to fill in the gaps when squash is unavailable. I hope to do a better job of growing beets for pig fodder in succession in 2021. Also, I am beginning to work on transitioning the pigs to an almost entirely hay-based diet for the winter and am still working through the ins and outs of doing this. They seem to be enjoying the reed’s canary grass hay, which is widely available and much maligned in our region, as the grass isn’t considered palatable to most livestock and it spreads like the dickens. Feeding bales of reed’s canary is working for our pigs, and my hope is that by keeping our chickens and pigs together for the winter, most of the seedbank leftover in the hay chaff will be thoroughly consumed by the birds, so that we don’t end up spreading it through mulching and manuring.

This was the first year that we raised turkeys, after being asked to by eaters for years. I discovered that I love doing it. I truly enjoy being around turkeys, like the impact they make on our land, like their ability to forage… just really like their personalities. It didn’t fetch a huge profit, mostly due to the high cost of poults, but if we are able to get them to breed naturally, I foresee turkeys as having a lot of potential for us in the future. Smaller turkeys were in demand this year, which was potentially good for us, because that’s what we’re doing.
Other than breeding, one limiting factor for us is what a customer base for turkeys looks like. Most of the folks who got turkeys from us this year expressed high satisfaction… but then there were the handful of folks that contacted us from mostly urban areas to seek our birds out… stop me if I’m ranting. Nevermind, you can’t stop me.

I know that there are a lot of folks living in urban areas who are conscientious eaters, willing to put their money where their mouth is. And I’d like to be hand feeding them. There are people out there who want to have a relationship with their farmer. Not anything weird, but, you know. If that’s you, and you’re local to us, please, let’s talk. But if I’m the last option because Whole Foods is sold out, don’t bug me. The worst is when I receive a dozen email thread from one person who ultimately decides that they’d rather not have a heritage breed turkey. Well, sorry, I only want to raise animals that can replicate themselves. I’m not quite sure that I’m able to express this very well in words right now, but there’s something about the allure of that big city money that inevitably hollows me out, because, speaking generally, urban people have a lot of options when they have money. It’s hard to stand out when there’s no way to build a relationship with them, or if they don’t care about our methods of growing. Organic, pasture-raised, I think some folks choose to buy a turkey with these labels for the status, there I said it. The other 364 days a year, they don’t give a good god damn how their food was raised. We’re seeking eaters who want to take stock of their impact on the planet and support something different, a food/soil/climate/human relationship that is not extractive. I prefer a grower/eater relationship that is beyond transactional. All of y’all who ate with us this year, or who’ve supported other non-mainstream avenues for nutrition, thank you so much. Growing food is something I’m passionate about, capitalism, not so much, so you gotta make it fun for me.

Ducks did well for us as they always do. I must admit I was too busy to harvest duckweed as regularly as I’d like, so stepping up my alternative fodder game is a focus for 2021. I’d also like to improve on our pasturing set up for ducks… they have a high potential for intensive management, but I’ve always been lazy about it and just let them free range, which creates an incomplete, unfocused graze. We started feeling overwhelmed by the amount of ducks hatched this season as there’s never really been a huge market for them, even though we really like eating them ourselves. Fortunately, we tapped into a new market up in Fairfield, Iowa, and between that and creating some value added products like duck sausage, rillette, and ham, I’m sure we’ll continue to raise ducks into the future, hopefully with more focus on directing their grazing effectively.

Other than how we grazed our chickens in 2020, which I’m very proud of, I feel like we had a lot of lessons to learn this year, primarily in managing our flock population. Our layer flock is aging, and between having fewer clutches brooded, some predation, and somehow neglecting to order any replacement hens, we have quite a few changes to make in our flock this year. Egg production was uneven, with a major glut of eggs and no way to sell them this spring. Our portable chicken wagon has no tires anymore… we need to fix that problem soon, because it limits how frequently the birds can be moved when the pastures are wet. In the long run, I’d love to dispense with our fossil fuel based mobile coops altogether and design a system where the chickens can be rotated through permanently fenced areas, or with animal traction, but I haven’t gotten my head around it yet. Still, I am very happy with how we ran our birds behind the cows this year for fertility distribution (shit-kicking), and they seemed to get more from the pastures once they’ve been eaten down. The chickens created few if any pasture dead-zones, also good news. After years of being unintentional about our breeding and overall flock composition, I’m excited to have just put in an order for 50 new birds arriving in April.

The goats have had a really good year, I think. We’ve yielded some quality cheeses and found a solid market for yogurt, they’re healthy looking, better nourished than ever I think, and the mixed silvopasture areas we’ve been managing them are coming into their own with lush growth, valuable shade, and varied nutrition. Cooperatively sharing labor has really come into a good place this year. When comparing goats to cows, which we’re still relatively new to, it’s sometimes difficult to see the benefits in terms of yield, not to mention how stubborn and naughty they can be, but I’m still happy with their postitive impact on the landscape, ability to utilize marginal areas like slopes and hedgerows, and overall resilience as a homestead animal. I’m personally content with the scale we’re currently at and value goats for their grazing/browsing flexibility and light hoofprint.

On a similar note, we now have three cows… Sugar, the matriarch, Bessie, who we’ll begin milking sometime next year, and Frankie, who, cute as he is, will be our first beef raised here. I’m excited about the prospect of having two cows to milk, because that means extra cream, and that means ice cream and butter. I’m also excited to raise our first grass-only beef cow, and hope we can pull that off. This year the grazing program for the cows went pretty well I think. Rotations were quick, the average paddock lasting two days or so, and being able to provide gravity feed automatic water most of the year was a game changer. The cows have seemed healthy and content, and most importantly, they provide ample, much needed fertility. I think cow grazing has left us with some well-maintained pastures, but I recognize the fine line we walk in using animals in a way that is beneficial to our soil and climate and using them in a destructive manner… I hope that I can tell which side of the line I’m on in the future by investing more in soil carbon testing and keeping better records, so there you have it, those are my resolutions for 2021. And of course, mastering the art of ice cream.

Gardening was a mixed bag. I made one major improvement, a really big one in fact, which was setting up drip irrigation. Had I not, I don’t think I’d have kept up on things. Definitely one of the highest uses of plastic. Okra, greens, garlic and peppers all did very well for me, and we had an exciting first ever harvest of watermelons, which I’m keen to do again. Sweet potatoes had a lot of rodent damage, but I think the yield would have been really good, and our squash got hammered by pests. We yielded less than half on our squash, which was still a lot, and we also ran into some issues with disease in our tomatoes, not to mention some stunted growth due to a difficult transplanting season. I think a lesson I’ve learned, and hopefully I’m correct here, is to stick with what I know works. I got overly ambitious and tried raising too many varieties… inevitably, many of them weren’t resistant to pests and disease the way I’d have preferred. Some diamonds in the rough: Chad’s improved Amish Paste tomato, Leuchtauer paprika pepper, Burmese okra, Thai lettuce, and green striped cushaw, which while bland and bad at keeping sure doesn’t mind squash bugs and makes some lovely pork. My record keeping was poor this year, but intuitively I feel like my yields could have been better, despite probably growing the most vegetables overall that I ever have.

Gardening, for some reason, left me feeling very depleted emotionally this year, I’m not sure why. I mean, mostly it was the squash bugs. I think I learned a lot of lessons in the garden this year, about timing, seed selection, and prioritizing certain crops. We expanded our garden space significantly this year, and I think some combination of strategy and perhaps the perfect Mary Poppins-esque intern could set things straight. Also, there was a one-eyed rabbit living in the hoop house and lower garden area for like two months who I could never catch that decimated our cowpeas… I have no idea where its other eye went, but the dogs finally caught it and I’m glad.

We had a very ambitious and ultimately succesful year in tree planting, with what seems to have been a high survival rate. While a fair amount of the chestnuts I planted in fall of 2019 failed, about half of them didn’t, which feels encouraging enough to keep at it. We yielded our first hazelnuts and cornelian cherries ever, and successfully established lots of pear rootstock as well as thornless honeylocust, and some high quality hazelnut cultivars. Black currants and elderberries all took well, but we had significant losses in our willow plantings, which I can live with. I’ve got plans and most of the parts to build a portable irrigation system for establishing our trees. Between that and breaking my planting into two seasons this year, I hope that I’ll increase how many trees I can successfully get in the ground, hopefully without feeling burnt out. In 2021 I’ll be focusing on apples, heartnut, more hazelnuts, and more chestnuts, in addition to some grafting on the pears and mulberries.

On a final note, and again, recognizing this was a challenging year for many, 2020 was really pretty ok for me, personally. I gained some skills, some perspective, enough of a market to keep me in the game, and maybe even some serotonin, I dunno. My brain is working better, and my heart is keeping up for the most part, even though I do feel like my body is weary and worn out. I was able to prove something that I wasn’t confident about at the beginning of the year, that growing food sustainably is valued, and even perhaps a viable occupation if I keep at it. I feel that our need to improve infrastructure, improve design, measure our impact and record our results is more important than expanding my market this year, so I’m letting the chips fall where they may on that one, and hope to retain our friends and fellow eaters, hopefully gain some word of mouth in that arena. Here’s to another damn year, let’s hope it’s a year of healing, learning, and way fewer squash bugs.

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