Well, I know I said I was going to post about milking today (ok…last week, if you really want to be specific). I realized, though, that I wrote quite a bit about milking in an earlier post. Instead of going into more detail about that, then, I’ve decided instead to tell you about the pigs.

About two weeks ago, we got some pigs. They’re an English heritage breed called Tamworth and have a reddish color. They were probably about a month old when they got here and already have doubled in size. It turns out that pigs really excel at one thing — turning food scraps and whey into pork. Considering how much they’ve grown in the time they’ve been here, I’d say they do it pretty well.

The plan is to feed the pigs any edible garbage we produce in addition to giving them any whey the calves don’t need and any leftover bread we can’t sell. Right now, the pigs getting about six gallons of whey between them a day and piles of bread. After our dinner, they get the scraps. They’re not very picky. Turns out they like pork chop bones as much as they like carrot greens and onion ends. I’m not sure if they’re enjoying the pile of flour we gave them on Tuesday, but we’ll see if they eat it.

I hate to say it, but the pigs are really cute. Typically, they coming running over, oinking and squealing, whenever someone walks past, hoping for something tasty. They seem to like the whey the best. If we’re not fast enough pouring the whey into their trough, chances are one or two of them will jump up and start drinking right out of the can — a pretty funny site considering the can is about as tall as they are when standing on their hind legs. When we dump the whey, they push and shove each other to get the best spot at the bowl. Apparently, the best spot is the one directly in the stream of liquid. More often than not, they end up completely covered in it.

They eat faster and more noisily than any animal I’ve seen. After a particularly good meal, they’ll often roll over and lay down on their sides, as if they’ve exhausted themselves. I guess all that gluttony is hard work.

Come autumn, these pigs will be about 200 pounds and ready to become pork. I guess that’s kind of too bad in a way, but I think I’ll probably try to take a trip out to the farm them to eat some of it. I don’t really feel bad about it, either. For one thing, there’s not much other use for a pig. For another, they’re living better lives than most other pigs in this country. They’re fed well (really well) and have space to roam around. They live outdoors and have access to both sun and shade. I think they’re happy — something that eludes most farm animals. Plus, I really like pork.

Thanks to Brennen for the nice photos and Kari for the video chat shot

People have been asking me what a typical day at Bobolink is like. The short answer is there is no typical day. I could have to work a farmer’s market or an event — serving up tastings. I might have to take care of some field work, such as mowing, weeding, or setting up electric fences. Mostly, though, I’ve been milking the cows and making cheese. What will follows over the next few posts, then, is a “typical” day of milk and cheese duty. Today, fetching the cows.

7:45 am - Everyone on milking meets at the house for breakfast and coffee. Usually, breakfast is toast or a cheese croissant, with the occasional farm-fresh egg for some variety. We talk over the plan for the cows — which field they’re in now; where we need to take them next — and then head out to get them in.

8:15 am - By this time, we’re usually heading out to fetch the cows. Depending on how many people are on cow duty (usually three) someone will stay in the creamery to set up the milking system and get everything ready for cheesemaking. Other times, we’ll hook it up and then all head out together.

The milking system is basically a pipeline that runs from the barn into the creamery. On the creamery end, the milk flows into a large Pyrex jar. When that fills, it empties into another pipe and flows through a filter and into the cheese vat. Setting up the system is really just a case of inserting a new paper filter, connecting the pipe from the jar to the vat and visually checking to make sure everything is in place.

Fetching the cows is a walk out into whatever field they’re currently feeding on and rounding them up. Some days, this is easy. They’ll all be in a big group and patiently waiting for us to lead them to milking. This seems to happen most often when we’re a little later than usual fetching them or if there isn’t a lot of good grass for them to eat. On other days, though, rounding them up can take some doing. If they’re in a big pasture, they could be scattered in all different areas, making for quite a bit of walking to get them all moving together where you want them. Sometimes, they’re just lazy.

Driving a cow isn’t really that difficult; it’s really just a case of getting behind them and moving them along, shouting a little, waving your arms, sometimes hitting their behinds with a stick. As could be expected, some cows are more cooperative than others. Nudge, for instance, has a reputation for bopping people with her head (hence the name). For this reason, she has a bell around her neck so you can hear if she’s sneaking up behind you. She hasn’t really gone after me at all, but I have seen her go for others.

Once the cows are all moving in the right direction, they pretty much head straight to the barn. We just need to make sure that all the gates (really strings of electric fencing) are open where they need to be open and closed where they need to be closed. We make sure the way is open to the barn and get behind the herd and follow along, giving a little encouragement to those who need it.

When we get to the barnyard, the Kerry cows will often be the first into the barn and stand right in the doorway. This presents some problems, because the rest of the herd are intimidated by them; they won’t pass. It’s up to us, then, to get them out of the way. Once they’re cleared, most of the milking cows will enter the barn on their own accord and walk straight into their stanchions. We just have to lock them in. Others, of course, aren’t so easy. One old cow in particular, Coco, usually takes quite a bit of pushing and pulling to get her into the stanchion.

Right now, we’re milking 18 cows. The drys cows, bulls, and steers will either roam around the barn or the barnyard. Once all the milkers are locked in their stanchions it’s usually around 9:00 or so, depending on how cooperative the cows have been and how far we had to drive them. Once in, we get the milkers from the creamery and start the milking. More on this tomorrow.

Richie, one of the long-term (three-month stretch) interns left Bobolink on Sunday. He’ll be heading up cheesemaking on a goat farm in Pennsylvania. Right now, they only have a few goats. Richie will be helping them set up a cheesemaking process, developing recipes, tending the animals, and, ultimately, making the cheese. I wish him luck.

Richie is, to say the very least, quite a character. On his way out, he left the following photos for me on my camera. The scrabble, incidently, is one of the reasons I haven’t been posting much. I hope to remedy that from this point on.

Cheese rolling roundup at Google