Tag Archives: Farm Update

Elderberries – pratfalls, hazards, harvest – and wasps

My bad! This update is to correct slander to our friends, the bees, and to provide helpful info about the differences between bees, hornets, wasps and yellowjackets.

August 30

Was it just a few weeks ago that lovely elder flowers were in bloom? August has just flown! The day’s are getting a bit cooler now and it’s a race with the birds for the berries.

Yesterday afternoon, I spent about an hour and a half picking ripe elderberries (Sambucus nigra) on state land that abuts a friend’s farm. What a thicket! The area is a jungle of 10-ft high elderberries, tangled vines, and a treacherous mat of foot-snagging fallen branches.

Elderberries – Sambucus nigra

The sun was high and some of the vines were thorny. I was very glad for my thick jeans, long-sleeved shirt, and wide-brimmed hat. I worked for those berries! Over and over, I’d reach up to a hanging cluster, snip the thick main stem, and drop the heavy berries into a bag. About an hour in, I tripped and fell to my knees when I failed to high-step over fallen brush. No harm done.

But, just as I was thinking I was done for the day, I felt hot pain on my left thigh. A yellowjacket (not a couple of bees) had made its way up my pants leg and wasn’t happy about it. It panicked and stung several times. I crushed it through my thick jeans to stop the assault. It hurt!

Once home, I changed out of my elderberry-stained jeans and discovered the inert body of what I at first thought was a bee. After some research, I now know it was an aggressive yellowjacket, a type of wasp. The difference between bees and this insect is evident in the markings on the lower abdomen.

Yellowjacket

Like all wasps, yellowjackets have a segmented body — a nipped-in waist — and are decorated with yellow-and-black geometric patterns. And where a bee can sting you only once, yellowjackets and hornets can sting multiple times.

 

 

 

Bee on echinacea

Here’s some more information about the differences between bees, wasps, yellowjackets, and hornets.

Back to the elderberries: it took well over an hour to strip the fruit from the stems. Now, that’s a messy job! Thank goodness for disposable gloves. Unfortunately, my t-shirt got the worse of it. I’ll have to see what I can do to lift that ink.

About four quarts of berries now rest in the freezer until I have time to process into a heavy syrup. That syrup is the foundational ingredient of my immunity-boosting tonic for the cold/flu season (also includes honey, echinacea and brandy). It’s really helped the last three years.

As for the insect stings — the area’s hot, red and swollen. The first thing I did was rub some lavender essential oil over the area. Then I splashed on witch hazel, and combined tinctures of echinacea, plantain and St. John’s Wort.

Today, Aug. 31st, I’ll apply a compress of freshly mashed plantain leaves combined with dried holy basil moistened with a strong tea of boneset, skullcap, and yarrow. These should help reduce the swelling, heat and pain.

There is so much life and bounty around us. Interested in herbs, shrubs and trees that provide herbal remedies? Leave me a comment or email me, sylvia@bullbrookkeep.com. Thanks.

Sylvia

It’s mid-September – harvest season at Bull Brook Keep

Wasn’t it just Memorial Day? Yup, another growing season is coming to an end. Fog hangs heavy over the pastures in the mornings. The days are getting shorter and the evenings much cooler. Trees are turning on nearby hills. The sumac at the northern fence post is blazing red, as are the hawthorn berries. Bees are a loud cloud above the chive blossoms, and bright yellow heads of goldenrod sway in every ditch and fence line.

The herd has been grazing happily all summer and fall. As usual, they take a mid-morning lie-down from about 9:00 AM to 11:00 AM. It’s a sign of a healthy, contented herd.

And that’s a major goal: healthy cattle raised on healthful grass. Another is to work in harmony with the season.

And so, it’s time: We begin the 2021 beef harvest in a few days. If you’d like to order, please do so early to secure your beef.

Please know that you don’t have to buy half a cow to enjoy the great taste and high nutrition of grass-fed-grass-finished beef. Our variety packages start at just 30 pounds. (A variety package includes ground, steak and roasts.)

Don’t hesitate to call, email or text with any questions. We’d like to be your farmers.

Sylvia & Dave Toftness

I guess I’ll do it tomorrow

The evening was wonderfully cool, and although the light was fading fast, I was sure I had just enough time to get my herbs transplants into the garden.

I had my trowel and garden fork, a little map showing where I’d place the plants, and a kneeling cushion for my knees. I’d sprayed down my jeans against ticks and my ball cap against bothersome mosquitos.  “Let’s go, Siggy.” And so my corgi and I climbed a slight rise to a generous plot set aside for medicinal herbs.

I could see the herd just across the field. I’d moved them to a fresh paddock just hours before. And there was a cow, #7, a red-and-white Buelingo, trumpeting across the fence to the next open field. She was calling for her calf. She had been pacing the fenceline for a good half hour, and her call was sounding more and more desparate. Where was her calf? Born just this morning, the little red-and-white heifer was strong and healthy and had immediately followed her mom around on long, wobbly legs.

Where was she?

The cow’ was getting more agitated as the dark edged in.

Up until a couple of years ago, I wouldn’t have been too bothered by the scene. Calves love to slip under fences and walk away from their dams. But last year, we lost two calves to coyotes and I just didn’t want to chance that again.

And so, I got off my knees, dusted off my jeans and headed to the garage for a flashlight.
“Come on, Sig. Let’s find this little girl.”

Fortunately, it was a very brief search. The calf was nestled down in some long grass just a few yards from the fence. It’s amazing how well calves can disappear in high grass. There can be a dozen of them right in front of you, and you’d never know.

new Buelingo heifer

It took quite a bit of jostling to wake her and get her on her feet (very young calves can be tough to move)  and headed back towards mama. Meanwhile, the entire herd had lined up along the electric fence line, and watched me struggle with the little animal.

I eventurally pushed the calf back under the fence where she was reclaimed by her dam.

By then, it was nearly dark, and Sig and I walked back to the house by flashlight.

The herb transplants will have to wait till tomorrow.

Sylvia

 

 

A Day in the Life (of a NYC baby boomer turned WI cattlewoman)

Wednesday, April 10, Bull Brook Keep

6:30 AM – dragged myself out of bed – yeah, I slept in. Slipped my feet into house shoes while Cathy Wurzer gave me an earful on the state-of-the-world according to MPR.
Usual morning ablutions followed by routine stretches and crunches.
Hefted a basket of laundry to the utility room, started up a load, and picked up a set of clean sheets from the linen closet as I made my way back to the bedroom.
      Note to self: sheets are getting really threadbare. Need a couple of new sets. Boy, that’s going to set me back.

2018-2019 winter fog

Thick fog blankets the farm, can’t even make out the cattle.
     Note to self: gotta wash the windows.
     Recollection — I’d never really seen thick fog before I got to the Upper Midwest; It’s just not something you notice much in the middle of New York City. It was in Duluth, Minnesota, the San Francisco of the North, that I fell in love with fog. I was a young TV/radio reporter, and this ground cloud felt miraculous. I remember driving my VW Bug into walls of pale gray as I snaked down from the hillsides above the city to the roads along the Lake Superior shore. Was it dangerous? I guess, but I loved being wrapped in it just the same. Still do.

Brewed a pot of tea. Sweetened and creamed it.
Note to self: need more half-and-half. Oh, and I need organic brown rice. Totally out — unacceptable. Also, out of carrots — unthinkable.

8:30 AM — Set the hot mug by my computer and opened up a couple of new documents. Dave and I are coordinating a staff evaluation effort for a nonprofit. Time to move the process to its next step. That’ll mean about 90 minutes generating and discussing the latest phase in the process.
      Note to self: It took 4 hours. Sigh.
     Put one load in the dryer and started another in the washer. Made Dave and myself a     quick breakfast of eggs and toast.

11:00 AM – For the second day in a row, Dave heads to the south fence line to brush out bushes and saplings while the weather’s cool and before leaves appear. A huge, physical job.

2:00 PM — My seat is killing me and my eyes are squinty from staring at the computer screen. Time to get outside and count up how many wood posts and how many metal t-posts I’ll need over the next several weeks, aka fencing season.
It always takes longer than I think it will. I restrung low-tensile fence while I was walking the lines. I need 50 or more t-posts, a good dozen wooden posts. Maybe another half-mile of wire.

I join Dave along the south fence line to help him pull together piles of the branches he’d cut down the last couple of days. Mine was a very small contribution.
Dave used the skid steer, equipped with the grapple (massive metal claws), to lift the branches off the road and onto our farm property.

Siggy kept me company, digging through hay piles and nosing holes. He’d wander off every once in a while but always stayed within view.
Although the temp wasn’t too bad, a couple of hours in the stiff wind made me very happy I’d worn a hat, wrapped a scarf, and pulled on long johns.

5:00 PM —Now to move some hay before the storm hits.
Thank you, God, again, for the warm clothes, house, and equipment.

8:00 PM – Made dinner (oven-fried chicken and steamed broccoli), and the snow started. Dave and I watched some Netflix.
Note to self: I need to quit slouching in the armchair; I’m giving myself a chronic backache. New chair?

10:35 PM — I finish up the few dishes left in the sink and wash off kitchen counters. I lock the doors.
 Note to self: Before hitting the sack, write down all the things that need to be done tomorrow. Trying to keep everything in my brain is exhausting and risky.

11:05 PM — I flipped off the lights. To bed.

Sliding seasons

Two days ago, it hit nearly 90 degrees. And the humidity – it was awful. It felt as if I was breathing through a sponge.
This morning, the dogs and I walked to the mailbox in a cool drizzle. It was 58 degrees and I was glad I’d pulled on my old denim barn jacket and cap. Although our driveway’s only 600 feet long, my low boots and the hems of my jeans were drenched before I got to the road.
Our driveway ends at a cattle grate that works to keep the cows inside our property (they balk at the light and dark pattern created by the grate’s heavy horizontal pipes).
I put Siggy (my Corgi) on “stay” at the grate and walked the last few yards across the road and to our weathered mailbox. It’s worst for wear because some vandal decided to use it for a piñata a couple of years ago.
I pulled out a short stack of junk mail, and a magazine I was very glad to fold up under my arm to protect it from the light drizzle. Siggy, Parker (Dave’s English Setter) and I made our way back up to the house. Half way, I made a quick stop at the orchard. One of the several fairly young apple trees was bending under its ripe burden. Note to self – pick, dry, freeze and can apples – yesterday.

Fall = applesauce

The dogs ran and romped around me, clocking a couple of miles as they zig-zagged across the gravel, around the orchard and across the open grasses.
Despite their doggy activity, it was quiet. I like that about drizzle.

Contented BueLingos

The driveway slopes up to the house, and as I neared it, I looked East. Most of the cows were reclined on a near pasture, contentedly chewing their cud. A good sign of health and calm.
As I opened the garage door, I began to mentally tick off today’s to-do’s: notify customers of the summer sausage now available for pickup; write up meeting notes from last week: start a batch of French sourdough, contact prospective students for upcoming artisan bread baking classes, contact potential guests for Deep Roots Radio; and schedule our next beef harvest. Because Dave and I farm in rhythm with the seasons, harvests are a sure sign of the shift from summer to fall.
The window of my small home office opens to a southern slice of the farm. I can see some of this year’s calves. Boy, but it’s a healthy group. It’s amazing how some of those steers have gained hundreds of pounds and nearly a foot of height in just four months.
The sky’s brightening a bit, and I can just make out a pair of sandhill cranes on a ridge. I love their call, and the way they slowly wing just 40 and 50 feet above the ground.
Leaves are turning. And even though we’ve gotten lots of rain and considerable sunshine, the grass just doesn’t grow as quickly or as thickly as it did in early July. Despite this annual slow-down, we’re still able to rotate the cattle to fresh paddocks (grazing areas) even now because the pastures are so much more diverse and healthy than even two years ago. This is important for us because our BueLingo beef cattle are 100% grass-fed and grass-finished. They grow and fatten on grasses, legumes and herbs. No grain. No hormones. No subclinical antibiotics. This means it takes up to a year longer to get our cattle to harvest condition, but again, that’s what it means to raise cattle as nature intended.

Our third-crop hay is baled and waiting for me to move it off the field and to the storage area. At this time of year, it’s the very heavy morning dew that presents a challenge. I just don’t like driving a tractor really wet ground. On a typical late September day, I’ll often wait until mid-afternoon before venturing out in my John Deere. Given the last two days of rain, I’m going to hold off until we’ve had a couple of sunny days to dry things out a bit.
Drizzle, drenching dews, cooling days and lengthening nights. Every turn of the clock moves us from the growing to the harvest season. Again.
It’s fall.

An ongoing adventure story for children of all ages

Siggy is making progress

Siggy is making progress

Siggy is now nine weeks old. He loves running around with the big boys – Chevy, a nine-year old German Shorthair Pointer, and Parker, the five-year old English Setter. Siggy runs and jumps on them and wants to play with them all the time. Sylvia, Siggy’s master, knows playtime is important for little puppies. She also knows that Siggy must learn some basic lessons so that he will grow to be a useful, obedient and safe worker on the farm.

Chevy and Parker are also working dogs – they help David hunt for pheasants, grouse, and woodcock. David spent many, many months training Chevy and Parking to do their jobs well. Both dogs come to David when he says “here,” and they stop moving when they hear the word “whoa.” When David says “heel,” both dogs will walk close to David’s left leg. They do not run ahead of David, nor do they trail behind him. This is important because it means David can prevent the dogs from running into traffic, or from being distracted from their job – hunting.
Right now, because he is very young, Siggy has not learned to obey Sylvia’s commands. In fact, Sylvia knows Siggy is very independent and can be a very stubborn little dog! He will not always come to her when Sylvia says “here.” This is a problem because Sylvia wants to keep Siggy safe from traffic and from large animals that can hurt little dogs. He must also learn the very basic commands before he can begin to learn to be a herding dog that will work with the free-range chickens, and perhaps, the grass-fed BueLingo cows as well.
Sylvia wondered, “What can I do to train Siggy better?” She asked her friend Claire for some advise.
Claire knows all about training puppies. She told Sylvia, “Don’t put Siggy’s food in a bowl any more. Instead, feed Siggy from your hand, and only give him some food after he obeys your commands.”
Sylvia thanked Claire and began to do this several times every day. For example, early in the morning, Sylvia brings Siggy to a quiet spot and gives him a command. She says “sit,” “here,” or “stay.” When Siggy obeys her command, Sylvia feeds him some of his puppy food directly from her hand. Siggy is learning to obey!!
Sylvia knows that there are many, many months of training ahead, but now Siggy is making progress.

For all story installments, click here.

A dusting of snow

Like so many in Wisconsin and Minnesota, I woke to snow this morning and quickly bundled up for morning chores. I pulled up thermals and pulled on my purple balaclava, and braced myself for the cold. What a wonderful surprise it was to open the door to a gentle daybreak. It was calm and felt absolutely balmy.
There was barely a quarter inch of snow on the ground as I headed up the short hill to the tractor. The snow was already dripping down the windshield facing into the sun, and the diesel started right up. The dogs played tug-of-war with a stick as I speared bales and slowly moved them to a distant pasture, and i could hear the rooster crowing from within the coop. I’ve already fed and watered them, but I’ll wait until a few hens have laid eggs in the nest boxes before letting the small flock range the farm for the day.
Now to bake bread.

Morning break after a three-dog night

It hit -28 last night at Bull Brook Keep, and that’s without taking windchill into account.
After pulling on my flap-earred hat, long-johns and heavy jacket, I fed and watered the chickens and fully expected to find frozen eggs in the nest boxes. Today’s harvest was small and cold, but not frozen. I’ll check the coop several times this morning to gather up any new contributions before they freeze and crack.

Hot and spicy break after a three-dog night

Hot and spicy break after a three-dog night


Chilly morning chores prompt substantial morning breaks. Today’s includes toasted French sourdough fortified with pastured butter and homemade jalapeño jelly, extra sharp Cheddar, a fresh pear and piping hot organic Welsh Morning tea with plenty of organic half-and-half and vanilla-spiked organic sugar. Thank you God.

The timekeeper – a noisy video

Our free-range chickens are built to forage for themselves

Our free-range chickens are built to forage for themselves

I’m typing away at my desk and then it comes, the crowing that says, “Hey, it’s 11 AM. There are things to do.”
My free range chickens seem to be thriving in the cold and snow. They peck at any patch of dirt or brittle grass blade they find, which is why they love to hang out under my office window. In addition to being out of the wind and facing into the sun, they love scratching through, and nestling into, the mulch around the bushes. It makes for happy hens, and a very vocal rooster.

A day in the life

6:00 AM – As always, MPR’s Cathy Wurzer’s bright voice from the bedside radio let’s me know the world has survived another night and Minnesota is involved in all kinds of activity. Although I now farm in Western Wisconsin, I pulled many of my Minnesota habits with me when I crossed the river. In an hour the radio will automatically switch to Wisconsin Public Radio – new alliances.
6:45 AM – Doing some laundry. In the heat of summer, and when you’re dealing with livestock, sweat, dirt and manure build up on everything. Dave and I often go through two and three changes of clothes in a day. And if we go into town, we’ll clean up and change again into cleaner and tidier jeans and shirts out of respect for the people we’ll meet as we complete errands.
7:45 AM – Moved the herd to a new, small paddock, and set up the fencing for another shift early this afternoon. I wonder how many miles of electric rope I’ve reeled and unreeled in the last four years. Some days, my upper arms ache from winding up rope and pulling up step-in posts.
Filled the water trough. The grass is outstanding this spring thanks the the heavy rains. It’s a pleasure to practice – and continue learning – rotational grazing when conditions are so favorable.
2013-06-16 13.06.04
Experienced ranchers can get up to a 3-pound gain per adult animal per day. It takes lots of know-how to make that target: having the right mix of grasses, herbs and legumes; and, building soil conditions so they deliver the right balance of nutrients to the grass. It means moving the cattle so that they’re eating the grasses when they’re most nutritious – not too young, not to old and woody, and at the time of day when sugars are at the tops of the plants. Managing the grazing so that the cows don’t crop the forage too short, and so that they stomp down the residual grasses well.
So much to learn.
12:30 PM – Just refilled the waterer for the chicks. Third time so far today. At nearly a week old, the 30 Freedom Rangers are nearly twice as big as they were when I picked them up from the Post Office in Clear Lake.
That was a milestone experience: The postal clerk slid the cardboard box across the counter. It was low and wide and filled with lots of air holes. When I picked it up, I could feel the little birds jostling, and I could hear their tiny feet scratching. They peeped as the box rested safely on the seat beside me as I made the 10 minute drive home.
1:15 PM – Time to move the cows and steers to a fresh paddock of grasses, herbs and clovers. Grass is so tall, I’ve got to high-step through it. It feels a bit like snow-shoeing.
1:25 PM – Cows moved. Rain clouds building in the south.
2:00 PM – Time to work on the website and email. Still moving files and lists from my old website to new one. Agony. Makes my brain boil and my neck and shoulders stiff. This work consumers hours and days, and makes me anxious. I’m spending so much time fixing things on the website that I haven’t had time to let customers know there’s beef for sale. But, yes, I’ve got to get the site finished first. One step at at time.
3:00 PM – Time for afternoon tea – sweet tea with 1/2-and-1/2 and sugar. A friend recently shared his recipe for fresh strawberry scones. I feel a daily ritual coming on.
4:29 PM – Quick trip to the bank. Amazing how quickly transactions are accomplished in a small-town bank. Checked the chicks again when I got home – refilled waterer and feeder. Rain coming down hard, again. When will we get the four days of sun needed to cut and bale hay??