Six years ago we were hurriedly looking at properties in the area and happened to be with a real estate agent driving right by the Oley Community Fair, which was in full swing.

Parked cars filled every available street spot while large fields and temporary lots accommodated the overflow.

I said something to the agent like, ‘wow, look; a county fair!’  She said that it wasn’t—that it was the “community fair.” That, although it’s open for the public to attend, only residents whose townships join the ag-rich Oley Valley could participate in the contests/judging.

Canning Competition Entries

And, oh, what a level of participation! From the numerous volunteer committee heads and organizers who work year-round for the three-day culmination, to the local fire department, to the thousands who turn out, the excitement and anticipation seems to increase with each year’s festivities.

My friends and I will joke with one another about the “blue ribbons” but, kidding aside, it’s not about that at all. It’s about the celebration of a lifestyle and a heritage that we strive to keep alive. It’s a  three-day celebration of a well-connected community… connected with each other and connected to this valley.

Best Display of Jellies

Best Display of Pickles

This is probably a good time to thank Evelyn (again); she was our real estate agent who suggested we might be happy here.

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Rebecca Gunther, of Jersey West Farm had been e-mailing me weeks ahead of the Garden State Sheep Festival to, well, beg me to show some of my Navajo-Churro. (That Sunday, there was to be a Navajo-Churro competition and the judge would be none other than Ingrid Painter—decades-long breeder and N-C gal extraordinaire.) Was she kidding???  Me??  Show a sheep??  And in front of Ingrid Painter?  NO WAY. I had been curious for years about exhibiting an animal in the show ring—but was just too ignorant to attempt it. After all, where would I start?

I was bound and determined NOT to let Oneida show ME up in the ring (after all, Ingrid was there!) so I kept her at my side with no slack in the lead and a hand firmly on the back of her neck and another cupping her jaw. Imagine my dismay, after Ingrid’s first few passes, when she asked me to move to one end of the line with Oneida. I had watched a few judgings before this and knew that the end where she was moving me was not where the winners had been repositioned. I probably had “rookie” stamped on my forehead!  As beautiful and deserving as Oneida was, I was convinced I had done something as a handler to disqualify us. I was pretty sad.

Not only was this rookie wrong about the line-up, Oneida captured a blue-ribbon for her class and we went on to grab the Grand Reserve ribbon!!  I couldn’t believe it!  Well, it wasn’t “we” after all. Oneida is a one-of-a-kind Navajo-Churro and Ingrid validated that. However, I’d like to think my grip on that little girl that day ushered our chances right along in the ring.

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Relaxed Tom

When we began to raise turkeys a few years ago, I had no idea about the “show” they were capable of: the delicate dances, intricate and varietal sounds and calls, and the careful choreography of their mating rituals. Silence does not appear to be in their vocabulary. At any given point during the daylight hours, you can hear the hens and their sharp clucks and the toms gobbling virtually in unison.

Feeding time always brings excitement in the barnyard and the turkeys are no exception—their appearance changes almost instantly!

Unbelievably, the snood (according to the Wild Turkey Federation), which is perched atop the beak, has no known function. It will redden and engorge when the tom is excited and shrink to less than an inch and return to a shade of blue when the tom is relaxed.

Engorged snood, caruncles and dewlap

Excited over feeding time

The “caruncles” are bulbous appendages which appear on the neck and head and the dewlap is the skin which connects the underside of the beak to the neck (both sexes). On toms, both of these areas redden and the caruncles will enlarge when strutting or acting aggressively.

Toms possess a somewhat modified feather called a “beard” which protrudes from the center of the breast. It grows three to five inches a year.

As you can imagine, the toms will put on quite the display with their shades of red and magnificent plumage. Do you know when it came time to make the Big Bird costume on TV’s Sesame Street, they reached for white turkey feathers and died them yellow? 

The turkey: a natural showstopper!

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We bred our ewes to Baw Blue (or Blue as he’s commonly called) last year. Reese, our matriarch, “threw” Penny this past Spring.

Reese and newborn Penny

Penny was born jet-black except for a little patch of white on her nose, crown, and very faint white “tears” (which I didn’t even notice until it came time to note her markings).

Penny Today

As Penny’s coat grew over the summer, she exhibited signs of black and brown in her wool. The color of churro wool will do that. It can change with age and bleach out with exposure to sunlight. Yet, when the shearer came last week??? What a lovely surprise! As her outer coat fell to the floor, her inner coat was a shimmering light gray-blue against her black legs and under-belly…matched with her distinct “tears” means she’s BLUE. English Blue to be precise.

Blue is the genetic color designation (which does not change) and will be noted on her registry paperwork. Her wool color will change with age and will also be noted on the paperwork — which will accompany a fleece sample from her shearing at one year of age.

[The following “Genetic Color Terms” courtesy of  www.navajo-churrosheep.com]

Blue – Born black but in first year develop silver/charcoal inner coat while outer remains brownish/black. May develop white on eyes and muzzle but keep dark points, legs, body and belly are dark. Hips, sides are greyed.

English Blue – Must have white tears, may have white in ears or on muzzle. This is a pattern on Black or Brown.

Texel Blue – Resembles Badgerface. There is a dark bar over each eye, dark top of nose, dark under jaw on light face.

Why is this so special? It’s special because of the rarity of this particular color. The table shows, historically, less than one percent of the population of registered Churro possess this genetic color.

Navajo Churro Color Data – Past and Present

I’m so thrilled to have this color combination in our flock—and to know it’s the matriarch’s ewe-lamb that has it. I can’t wait until Penny’s of “breed-able” age to see how her very special traits are passed on!

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Navajo-Churro sheep need to be shorn twice a year. Their wool grows an inch a month.

Typically, we’ll have the shearer come in September and March (or thereabouts). The shearing happens before they’re bred and then again after the lambs arrive. The timing is good in that it cleans the mamas from the lambing and gets them ready for the warmer months.

Our shearer has been doing this his entire life. It’s something I wouldn’t mind trying but it’s such a delicate job, and I love my flock so much, that I’d rather a professional be at the helm of this task.

He’ll trim the hooves, de-worm (if we wish) – which just means he administers a “drench,” that is a liquid – and shear.

His technique is one that many spinners like because he doesn’t take “second cuts.” He takes one long pass along the sheep instead of going back to cut again (resulting in smaller “bits” of wool left in the fleece).

Another good thing about having him do the shearing is that he’s an “outsider” to our flock – he’s a valuable objective observer as to the overall health and well-being of everyone.

Sheep almost look like different animals after a shearing. It just has to feel good to have that “haircut” every six months or so –  just look at how relaxed they all looked that next morning.

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Look at my little freckled friend—freckled with pollen, that is.

I love taking my camera around the yard and finding new subjects. Take, for instance, the pictures of my sedum. I was traipsing through the flower beds noting the faded blooms, dead leaves, and broken, spent stems when I came upon my three sedum plants. All three were ablaze with bumble bee activity! 

Nothing else was going on in those tired, old flower beds except for the little energized world on those sedum blooms. 

It’s funny:  I’ll slow down to capture something and end up being captivated by what I’m viewing through the lens.

Gee, who’s catching whom?

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I believe sauerkraut was one of those accidental discoveries. Someone put cabbage in a vessel and just, plain, forgot about it. I’ve done that; who hasn’t?  Typically, it’s something in the very back of the refrigerator though… resulting in a finale not quite as pleasant as sauerkraut.

It’s easy to think of “kraut” being a German “discovery,” isn’t it?  After all, it’s a typical pairing on a German dinner plate.

Believe it or not, the beginnings of sauerkraut actually date back a full 2,000 years—to the Chinese laborers building the Great Wall. At that time, apparently the cabbage was fermented in rice wine, whereas today we know kraut-making as a “dry method” of salting the cabbage to extract the natural juices in which it will ferment. It’s believed to have spread to present-day Europe as nomadic tribes made their way to those parts—picture Genghis Khan, plundering all the way, energized by a crock of kraut!

Captain James Cook, the 18^th Century Pacific explorer, always took a store of sauerkraut on his sea voyages, since experience had taught him that it was an effective preventative of scurvy.

So, sauerkraut fed laborers who eventually crafted a man-made wonder which can be seen from space, nourished nomadic tribes as they made their way around the world, and kept sea-farers free of scurvy. Nothing in the back of my fridge could ever fuel such remarkable accomplishments… but that’s why I have sauerkraut on standby.

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We had a powerful line of thunderstorms to go through last night. I watched the approaching storms thinking we’d finally get some much-needed rain but it turned out to be more fury than falling water.

As everyone turned in for the night, one by one, I was left doing some last-minute work on the computer. Finally, my eyes were just too heavy so I began the route to lock doors and turn lights off. As I made my way to the back door, I was overcome by the night sounds.

[jwplayer image=”https://www.homegrownonahobbyfarm.com/wp-content/uploads/nightsounds.jpg” file=https://www.homegrownonahobbyfarm.com/wp-content/uploads/Nighttime_Out_Back.flv]

(Click start for night sounds.) It was very dark; my eyes couldn’t adjust to capture any form out back but my ears were overwhelmed. I grabbed my camera and began to set it up for a recording but it warned me “Subject Too Dark.” I knew that. I didn’t want pictures, per se; I wanted the sound.

For once:  no airplanes, no cars, no horns, no tractors, no television, no computer, no roosters, no sheep, no “nothing else.” It was so… settling. Yes, the subject was “too dark” but in my mind’s eye?  It was perfectly lit.

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Cycles of all sorts…

Monarch caterpillar on milkweed (host plant)

Milkweed plant “going to seed”

I plant tobacco. I love it. It reminds me of growing up and taking family trips down I-95, seeing fields and fields and fields of this majestic plant with gigantic leaves. I’ve rarely seen insects on or around our  tobacco plants; the leaves are sticky. And although I find the scent appealing, I imagine in the bug world there might be something off-putting about it. So,  I usually don’t bother to check the plants for pests.

Tobacco Budworm

That all changed a few days ago, when I noticed these worms on the tobacco. I assumed they were corn earworms—after all, they looked like them and were less than a foot from the overhanging corn leaves. Maybe they just dropped onto the tobacco from the corn leaves?

Wrong. I was amazed to find I have tobacco budworms.

A very close relative of the corn earworm, the tobacco budworm attacks field crops—tobacco, soybeans, cotton (which, by the way, is planted at the end of the tobacco row). A common predator is the wasp. Host plants include beardstem, lupine, and sunflower to name a few—all of which are present at our place (including the wasps!).

Just goes to show:  there are so many “mini-lifecycles” going on every day all around us…if we just take a moment to notice—like those pictured here.

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There we were, at our annual family reunion in South Carolina, and Aunt Renie said something like, “and remember those pokeweed salads?” That has stuck with me for a few years—especially since pokeweed grows like, well, a weed around here. I finally decided to do some research on this beautifully-berried plant since there is no better time than the present given all the bunches hanging out back.

First and foremost: pokeweed is a toxic plant. Let me repeat this. It is poisonous for humans, pets, and livestock!

Yet, in days of yore, poke “sallits” were a staple of southern cuisine in the U.S.

Young pokeweed leaves (collected before acquiring a red color) are boiled three times to reduce the toxin, discarding the water after each boiling. The result:  poke salit or poke salad. Be warned. It should never be eaten uncooked.

Many authorities advise against eating pokeweed even after boiling three times since traces of the toxin could still remain. Even today, doctors in the south launch frequent awareness campaigns to warn that pokeweed may remain toxic even after being boiled.

That said, let’s move on.

Apparently, pokeweed is a jack of all trades as far as plants go. It has been the star of folk song lyrics, used topically or internally as remedies and poultices by Native Americans, and enjoyed as an ornamental plant. The berries have functioned as writing ink, a paint to color aboriginal horses, and natural fabric dye.

It doesn’t look like pokeweed’s dance card is filled, though, by any means. A member of the Phytolacca family of plants, scientists have been able to isolate a protein from pokeweed that is being used to try to inhibit the replication of the HIV virus in human cells.

Oh, the possibilities…

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