Sunday, October 16, 2011

Silence of the Lambs

Hoptober
Autumn has arrived in its full glory.  Harvest has been in full swing.  We have been harvesting hops, tomatoes, cucumbers, Asian pears and squash.  Last weekend we collected over five pounds of chanterelles.  Firewood collection has been going full tilt with the daytime temperatures in the sixties and overnight temperatures dropping to the low forties.
Burn baby burn.
The change in season has given impetus for meat curing and meat harvesting. Two weeks ago, we made sopresseta which is curing in the basement.  When visitors come to the farm, I always offer to show them my sausage downstairs and then my wood outside.  Husbands are usually shocked by my audacity but soon fall into jealous envy of my well-hung meat and turgid wood pile.
Dirk Diggler has nothing on me.
Yesterday, we slaughtered the lambs.  Gary and Ginger had become great additions to the place.  We lost Lovey to coyotes at the beginning of August.  We found poor Lovey eviscerated and missing her leg.  Damn coyotes could even bother to eat the choice ribs cuts or loin.  After that we made sure the lambs were penned in at night.  Farming teaches you that hubris or inattentiveness leads to loss.  Some events can be arbitrary and uncontrollable (like summer happening late) but by in large you have to be in constant motion if you want to even attempt to keep up with all that nature throws at you.

The lambs were Katahdin, a hair sheep, bred to survive the tough climate of Maine.  Our lambs, once they got over their scours did a great job in the pasture that had a variety of grasses, brushes, alders, nettles and of course blackberries.  Amazingly the sheep stripped the blackberries of their leaves and ate ivy.  Their palette was not as diverse as goats but we were impressive nonetheless with their overall hardiness and temperament.  In the afternoons they would frolic while eating fallen apples and plums.  They refused to eat Asian pears probably because they were racist.
Tools of the (skinning) trade
We lost two chickens a few days ago to either raccoons or coyotes signaling increasing predator activity.  The slaughter has been planned for sometime but it is nice not having to worry about the lambs or rushing home before dark to be able to find the lambs.  On more than one occasion the lambs were stuck in a bramble or in the rain and would not go to their shed easily.

This time, the slaughter was done by us.  Our goal was to drop both lambs at the same time with a head shot. Ginger went right down but Gary was tougher.  My shot must have been off because he seemed to be still breathing albeit labored.  We drug him out and I cut his throat and he was still moving.  I shot him again and after one great death throe he finally passed.  The scene reminded me of Good Fellas when Tommy DeVito (Joe Pesci) brutally beats Billy Batts (Frank Vincent) and stuffs him in his trunk.  After a leisurely dinner with Tommy's mother, Henry Hill (Ray Liotta), Jimmy Conway (Robert De Niro) and Tommy learn that Billy is in fact not dead and are forced to finish him with swift brutality.  My mob analogy continues with the bodies hanging in the garage with plastic sheeting on the ground.
Slaughter, not  funny like a clown or meant to amuse you.
We might have the lamb livers tonight with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.  Oops, I am mixing my movie metaphors.