goats – Sheila Dougal

Butter, Whole30 Bread, Bucks and Cute Babies

I made butter today!

For about 1/3 cup of cream from my goat’s milk, and 5 minutes of effort, I got about 2 tablespoons of butter. It was a fun experiment.

Goat milk is naturally homogenized, so the cream doesn’t separate as easily from the milk as with cow milk. I could use a cream separator, and maybe I will at some point in the future when I’m getting more than a pound or two of milk a day. For now a spoon, small jar and some shaking will work.

I also made Caldo de Pollo and a Whole30 allowable flatbread to dip in the soup.

The soup is one of our favorites and you don’t have to slave over a stove all day either. Boil a whole chicken in a large stock pot. Add your favorite veggies ( I used onions, carrots and chayote squash) and spices. Simmer for a few hours till the meat is falling off the bone and serve topped with avocado, cilantro and a lime wedge. Deliciso!

The flatbread was a throw together last minute idea when I was craving cornbread to dip in my soup. It doesn’t get top scores for moistness for sure. But, for a dip in soup it turned out pretty good. Can’t share a recipe on this one cause I didn’t measure anything. I threw handful of coconut flour, a handful of almond meal, a couple dashes of salt, a couple dollops of coconut oil, and four eggs in a bowl, mixed until it formed a masa-like texture, flattened a ball of it in my hand and toasted in a skillet over medium heat.

Buck goats make great entertainment when it’s not rutting season and they don’t stinketh to high heaven. This is our buck Duke. He’s a total crack up and I got a few funny shots of him I had to share.

When you gotta reach that awkward place to scratch that itch that just won’t quit and you’re a buck, uh, it’s a little embarrassing.

Ryland’s a good goat herder.

Do your ears hang low? Do they wobble to and fro?

Three things are stately in their tread; four are stately in their stride:
the lion, which is mightiest among beasts and does not turn back before any;
the strutting rooster, the he-goat, and a king whose army is with him. -Proverbs 30:29-31

Babies at sunset. Awwww.

Darla and her Daylight

Quieted,

Sheila

Meanwhile, back at the farm: Journal of a Milk Maid Day 3 {and thoughts on Nahum}

(Daylight and Daisy)

(Daisy, the more timid of the two doelings, warming up to me and my hat)

(Daisy and Darla (the momma goat)

(Daisy)

I thought it was neat that both my doelings have these pretty markings on their backs. They both have a black strip down their spine and star of white on the black stripe.

(Daylight)

OK, I know this isn’t my usual form on this blog. Actual this blog has been anything but usual, regular, for a long time so I guess anything goes. If you’re over me and my goats already you might wanna avoid this blog for awhile.

I’m in caprine school. And I’m loving it!

This is my third day milking Darla. I’m finding that from the moment I wake up at 5:45 to milk her, my mind is on the care of these beautiful, fun creatures God has blessed me with, which are now producing a high quality whole food product for me and my household. Bonus!

Last night I separated the kids from Darla, putting them in a large dog kennel. You’re supposed to keep them separate for 12 hours and then milk the doe. But my girl doesn’t last for 12 hours. I pen them up at 8 pm and by 5:45 am she’s screaming for relief. Yesterday I milked her first while the kids screamed for breakfast. This morning, I let them nurse for a few minutes (Actually only about a minute… that’s about as long as Darla will let them go for before she seems annoyed and jumps over them. But that’s another subject I’m investigating.) and then took Darla to the milk stand.

I’ve put my milk stand (which my very nice neighbors are lending to me since they no longer have goats in milk) in our garage. It’s the most dust free area we have on our little “farm” aka dustbowl. (We are in the middle of getting the property laser leveled so that we can put up fencing and irrigate, so for now we have an acre plus of fine dirt blowing around.) Walking Darla to the milk stand is not too much work although she is still a bit reluctant and not used to me handling her on a lead. Getting her up on the milk stand is still slap stick comedy. Picture a six-foot-tall, just-out-of-bed, blonde woman trying to hoist her black, dusty, protesting, approximately-100-pound Nubian onto a milk stand.

Once I get her up there though everything is just fine. The kids are playing around at my feet, exploring the garage, my morning playlist is singing to me in the background and Darla and I start the milking process.

I did quite a bit of research about how to milk, when to milk, how often to milk, what equipment to use, etc. As I said before, I was getting too perfectionistic about it and finally just went to Walmart. This woman’s blog was/is very helpful and is the model I’m using for my first time dairy goat raising experience. Folowing her lead, and the info I got from Fias Co Farms on cleaning the udder and teats, my morning milking is starting to take form. If you happened across this blog and you’re looking to find info on raising a dairy goat or milking a goat I highly recommend The Prairie Homestead and Fias Co Farms.

This morning I got a little under a quart of milk. I think for one 5-10 minute milking a day we’re doing pretty good.

I am finding that there’s definitely a widespread thought that goat milk is gross. And I get it. I really thought it would be off tasting myself. I guess I figured I’d make cheese with it so I wasn’t too worried if I didn’t like the taste of the milk. I so wish I could give out a sample to all the skeptics in my life. My son Ryland, who is one of the biggest food/flavor/texture critics I know, loves it! It’s sweet and creamy, but not too creamy. It has the consistency of whole cow’s milk and leaves no funny aftertaste (which cow’s milk does for me). If you like milk at all I guarantee you would love fresh goat milk. I’m sure the goat’s milk you can buy in the health food store has a funny flavor because of the process and time on the shelf. But the stuff in my fridge is delicious! And it’s good for you! Seriously. Have you ever read all the health benefits of goat’s milk?

We aren’t big milk drinkers in our family, but having a source of milk in our own backyard where I know what went into the milk and exactly how it was processed makes me feel really good about the milk we will be drinking in the future.

So today was a productive day and it’s only 1:40 in the afternoon. A quart of milk. Hooves trimmed. Coat brushed. Tail cleaned. Underside and udders got a haircut (I’d rather not have falling hair in the pail of milk). Pens cleaned. Un-used pen measured for feedlot panels to go up to make room for mom and her growing doelings. An hour’s worth of research on breeding, registration, record keeping, grooming, milking, milk handling, cheese making, ear-tatooing and feeding done.

I read Nahum today. Have you ever read Nahum in the Bible? Take away: No one can stand before God and withstand his rightful indignation against evil (which every single one of us are infected with). But God has provided Himself in the form of His Son to be our refuge. We can’t stand before his wrath but we can run to him and hide in him from it.

If this rubs you the wrong way, if you have a hard time with the thought that God has “indignation” towards you because of your sin, think about how you would feel towards say, your spouse, if he/she took your money, betrayed your trust, was unfaithful, was irritated by your presence and then was offended at you for being angry with them.

God is the perfect spouse. He’s the perfect person. He’s good. Always. He is not in the tiniest way perverse or unjust or corrupt or selfish. He is love and he is just. He created us and we are made in His image to display His character and magnify who He is. But instead we pervert His image in us. We malign His character. We putrefy who He is. We perverse His goodness. And then we deny that He even is. We elevate ourselves as god and have not the least bit of desire for the One who made us and loves us so much as to not just wipe us out and start over, but rather send His own Son to bear all the weight of His indignation in our place.

God, of all people, has the right to be angry about the state of the human race and human heart. Just one glimpse at the news, one sampling of history at any point in time is enough to make any one of us shake our heads in despair at the terrors of the world we live in. Is there good? Yes! Oh yes! Neighbors helping neighbors, friendships, the love of a husband, the joy of children, the taste of a good meal, even goats. But these are the evidence that the good grace of God is preserving and keeping us from total rottenness, like salt keeps meat from decay. These are graces to be thankful for and enjoyed, but they are not the diagnosis of our condition. A person with terminal cancer may have flawless skin, a beautiful body and disposition, but inside they are dying. Their condition is deadly even though they enjoy good things.

Our condition is deadly. Running from God will not get you an escape from his rightful wrath. Run to Him. There you will find refuge. A sure, safe place and healing from all your decay.

Quieted,

Sheila

Journal of a Milk Maid: Day 1

Warning: This post was written last night under the influence of head cold medicine.

I think I can add Milk Maid to my list of titles.

Today was my first day milking Darla. This is her first freshening. First time on the milk stand. First time for everything.

I’ve been a little reluctant to start milking her. Honestly, I’m having fun but I’m also taking this very seriously. I feel like I’m discovering my place in the world is homesteading. Some people love the city and the hustle and bustle of lights and action. Me, I am finding myself giddy with happiness at the smell of alfalfa, the shoveling of goat droppings, the baaaing of momma and kids, and the tinny squirt of fresh milk hitting the stainless steel bucket.

So along with all the euphoria I’m feeling right now with my first experience raising dairy goats I’m also feeling the need to get it right. I’ve been doing quite a bit of reading about dairy goats and milking and the benefits of raw goat milk vs. pasteurized goat milk. I wanted to have all my ducks in a row before milking Darla, but yesterday I read a post by some person in the goat forum world that basically said: If you have a goat in milk all you really need is a clean bucket… the rest is for show. Now, I don’t completely agree with that statement, but it did make me realize I didn’t need every piece of designated dairy equipment before I began milking my doe. So I gave up my online shopping list and just went out there with what I had and milked my goat. This afternoon I set out to Walmart to look for the needed supplies and came up with all that I need for less than $80 which is about $80 less than I would have spent if I had ordered online the said dairy equipment.

I didn’t get much milk for our first milking, but that’s probably partly because I didn’t separate the kids from the momma last night and partly because I didn’t milk her for very long. Like I said it was sort of a spur of the moment decision to stop researching and waiting for the perfect equipment and set up and just go out there and milk. I feel good about how the first milking experience went. Today began the practice that will soon become habit.

The 13 ounces I got from my brief milking of Darla this morning I decided to pasteurize. After all the reading I’ve done, I think we will probably stick with raw milk. It just makes sense. But because this morning’s milking was so spur of the moment, and because I wasn’t sure that I did everything right as far as shaving and cleaning her udder, I decided to err on the side of caution and pasteurize the milk.

Tonight I did a blind taste test with the kids to see if they would be able to tell the difference between the whole milk we had in the fridge from Walmart and the freshly pasteurized goat’s milk. Surprisingly they both picked the goat’s milk as tasting the best and they both identified it as the goat’s milk. They said they were surprised because they thought it would taste “funny” but it actually tasted creamier and sweeter.

Honestly, I remember the bitter, bucky taste of goat’s milk I had a as a kid and in the back of my mind I feared that I was going to go through all this trouble and have a product I didn’t like. But it didn’t turn out that way. The goat’s milk is really delicious. It doesn’t taste “funny” at all. It’s creamier and sweeter and leaves no bitter aftertaste. Tomorrow, if all goes well, I’ll keep the milk raw and use it. I’ll be interested to see if the taste is different from the pasteurized milk.

And here’s a cute little guy I ran into on the way to get hay this morning:

Quieted,

Sheila

Goats and Highways

Having goats is great entertainment. I’d take a few hours out here with my goats over T.V. any day. They’re so goofy and clumsy and fun.

The momma goat, Darla, is doing a fine job for a first time mom. She leads her kids out of the pen twice a day and runs around with them for a little exercise. She baaas at them and they baaa back. She sniffs their tails and nudges them in the butt when she wants them to move. And she’s very protective of them! She’s head butted Bailey, our 10 year old female Lab twice for getting a little too close.

The papa goat, aw, he’s a buck. He could care less. He sniffs the kids a bit through the pen (we keep them and the dam together but separate from the buck) but then he sniffs just about everything. He’s a big show off chauvinist and I think he’s great. He’s got himself a go tee now and stands with his head at my shoulders (I’m 5′ 11″). He’s a pretty tall guy. He often stands on his back hoofs and raises his face as high up in the air as he can as though to announce that he’s, “The man!” When he does that he towers over me about a foot. He loves to “wrestle” with the boys, including the 41 year old boy in the house. They put their heads together and chase each other. Duke, the buck, swings his head and knocks over a Dougal man and then the Dougal man pushes Duke and they chase each other some more.

When you’ve got goats, at minimum, you’ve got some good entertainment.

Are there highways in your heart? I was reading Psalm 84 this morning. Verse 5 really struck me:

O the happiness of a man whose strength is in Thee, Highways [are] in their heart. – Young’s Literal Translation

There are highways in my heart. They were pioneered by Christ. He’s gone before me and I follow His trail with the Holy Spirit as my guide. It’s not the well-worn highway of the world. It’s not a broad road either. It’s high though. It’s not the way I would naturally choose. On this highway, that ends face to face with my living Lord, there are steep and narrow paths. Some areas are thorny. Many areas are dry and barren and I thirst. And there are long valleys of weeping. In those long, dry, hot stretches, I remember He’s gone before me.

It’s a highway of the heart. It’s a pilgrimage of the inner man. The inner me is journeying home, even though I’m sitting in Surprise, Arizona. It’s a highway of faith in Christ.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. -Hebrews 12:1-2

Where’s your life going? Is there a highway in your heart? Or are you just adrift? A dead fish going with the current downstream?

Quieted,

Sheila

Meet Jed and Duke

Waiting till this late in the evening to post isn’t a good idea. Every time I sit down to write in the evening the first words that come to mind are, “I’m exhausted!”

I am. Pooped. Tired. Worn out. Some version of virus struck our house Sunday morning. It took Ryland down first. By the time I got home from church he was running a fever. I worked Sunday night and by the time I got to work, I was feeling like my body was trying fight off whatever Ryland had (sore throat, dizzy headache, yada yada).

Working night’s shift is a worthwhile trade for me. I get more time available to my family in exchange for 24 to 48 hours of sleep deprivation. Well worth it! The last two weeks I’ve gotten called off for one of my two weekly scheduled shifts. The budget may need to be more strictly adhered to only working one day a week, but the time is worth so much more to me.

Yesterday, when I woke up at 2pm, I felt like my body was loosing the battle against the virus that was whooping Ryland. He slept from 1pm Sunday afternoon, through the night into Monday morning. James took Monday off to stay home with Ryland. Thankfully I was put on-call last night. I went to bed early and woke up feeling much better this morning. Still the dizzy headache though. Ugh.

I am LOVING having goats. My friend Shirley was so sweet to get these Nubians to us free of charge. But since they are both bucks and Connor can’t use them for 4H and since I don’t think I should start my goat experience with trying to keep 2 bucks (from what I’ve read it’s not advisable), we are going to try to trade at least one of them for a young Boer Connor can raise for 4H. I want to keep one of these bucks and breed him with a doe and get the experience of kids and milking a doe, but I don’t have a way to keep the buck separate from the doe, and I don’t know if I’d be getting in over my head. I think I’d like to raise dairy goats and use their milk, but then I think I’d like to raise meat goats and use them for meat. Hmmm. What to do??? I keep batting it around and in the mean time, I have these two, totally sweet bucks out in my yard, who, if I’m reading right, are going to at some point turn into mean, one-track-minded beasts who will stop at nothing to find a doe. I’m just not seeing it right now. Jed and Duke are two handsome, soft, gentle gazelle-like guys that my family and I are thoroughly enjoying.

Quieted,

Sheila