It's a Girl!

March 22 - Baby Goat Update
I'm happy to report that the baby goat is doing good. She's eating well and running around. Blanche is a great mom and Virginia is a devoted grandma. On a related note, we're pretty sure Virginia will have a kid(s) very soon, with Jolene (the former escape artist) to follow. In April or maybe May we expect lambs.


March 20
One of our pigmy goats (Blanche) kidded this morning. Luckily, she decided to give birth in the barn where it’s nice and dry and out of the wind. I’ve heard stories of goats kidding out on snow banks and such. The kid is about the size of a cat and looks just like Olaf, our Billy goat. She’s all white with a little grey on her ears. Her voice it high-pitched and she kind of sounds like a mosquito.

So far everything seems to be going fine, however I'm a little concerned about how the baby is eating. Blanche is really short and the baby seems to have a hard time getting down to her udder. I helped a couple of times, so she has had something to eat, I'm a little worried if the baby will be able to eat when I'm not there to help. I’ll have to keep a close eye on them.

Blanche and Blanche’s mom, Virginia are very interested in the baby and had it all dried off by the time we realized what had happened (at 6 a.m. this morning). The baby is up and walking around on wobbly legs (very cute). Blanche and Virginia have been keeping a close watch on the newborn and the sheep and the other goat are keeping their distance.

Eener's CSA

Thanks for taking a look at Eener’s Farm, here are some important C.S.A. details:


A C.S.A. definition: If you are unfamiliar with C.S.A.s (or just want to brush up on them) here is the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) definition:

In basic terms, CSA consists of a community of individuals who pledge support to a farm operation so that the farmland becomes, either legally or spiritually, the community’s farm, with the growers and consumers providing mutual support and sharing the risks and benefits of food production. Members or shareholders of the farm or garden pledge in advance to cover the anticipated costs of the farm operation and farmer’s salary. In return, they receive shares in the farm’s bounty throughout the growing season, as well as satisfaction gained from reconnecting to the land. Members also share in risks, including poor harvest due to unfavorable weather or pests.

How Eener’s C.S.A. works: I’ll pick produce and eggs and pack your box within 24 hours of delivery. After I deliver the boxes to the two co-ops (other pick up points may also be available) you would simply drop by one of the co-ops and pick up your assigned box (your box will have your name on it). Boxes will be delivered on Wednesdays. Next you would enjoy the contents of your box and look forward to next Wednesday’s delivery upon which you will bring your empty box in and exchange it for a full box.

Share prices: Full shares are $500/season. Half shares are $250/season. Full shares are designed for families and half shares would work for couples or single folks. Our season runs from the first week in June until the last week in October.

Regarding risk: Obviously there’s a lot of risk involved in farming: weather and pests sums it up and they can come in a myriad of different ways. I protect myself against most instances of total garden failure by planting a wide variety of plants and also different strains of these varieties. I also employ some tried and true home remedies for pests. While I’m not totally immune (a well-placed tornado could wipe out the whole works for example) there are some safety nets in place.

Regarding eggs: My chickens are free range and basically act like free range chickens meaning egg production is not necessarily constant nor consistent. When chickens are left to their own devices they lay a lot of eggs during good weather that would be favorable to raising chicks (like April through July). When it gets hot some may drastically reduce the number of eggs they lay while others just stop altogether. Conversely, my chickens also lay fewer eggs when the weather gets cold and there’s less day light, in October it starts to really dwindle.

The bottom line here is I can’t promise shareholders a full dozen eggs every week however, it’s likely they will receive a fair amount of eggs through June and possibly July, after that it’s up to the chickens.

Regarding “what do I do with this?”: I’ll be writing a blog for every delivery explaining what’s in the box, recipe ideas, farm news and other tidbits.



How Do I Sign Up for Eener’s C.S.A.?

Please fill out the form below (it may be easier to copy and paste it into a word document) and send to Eener at Eener’s Farm N12449 220th St. Boyceville, WI 54725 or e-mail it to eenermachine@gmail.com

At least $20 is due at sign up time. The rest is due by Halloween. Please make checks out to Eener’s Farm or Renee Bettendorf. Thanks!

Your Name:

Your Address:

Your Phone Number:

What size share would you like?

Where will you be picking your boxes up at?

I’ll see you June 3rd! Please let me know if you would like to stop by for a farm tour beforehand. Also, read my blog to keep abreast of farm news.

For questions please call (715)643-2803 or email eenermachine@gmail.com

A Brief History of Eener's Farm

I’m the fourth generation to live on our farm and my son, Forest is the fifth. Here is a brief history of the place:

My great grandparents, Fred and Ella Christianson, bought the farm from a couple by the name of Bert and Edith Lockwood in 1928. Before the Lockwoods owned it the land was property of the railroads.

Originally, Fred and Ella were from the Owatonna, MN area. They also farmed for awhile in North Dakota before moving to Connorsville where Fred was a blacksmith.

When they purchased the farm it included about 100 acres of woods and fields in rolling hills, a dwelling and a barn. We don’t know a lot about what the place looked like back then since Fred and Ella apparently didn’t have a camera. We do know that they tore the original house or cabin down since part of the foundation of our house shows this. We also know that the Lockwoods had built a barn on the property which is still standing and in use.

By the time Fred and Ella purchased the farm they had six children, one of which was my grandpa, Forest Christianson, he would have been about eight years old when his family moved here. Fred, along with his older sons built the small house my family and I live in and a second barn. They also milked cows and farmed with horses. They most likely had a garden and chickens.

In 1946 my grandpa Forest and my grandma Anne bought the place from Fred and Ella for about $4,000. Grandma and grandpa milked cows here until the early 1980’s. They raised Jersey and Guernsey milk cows and ran Allis Chalmers tractors. They had two daughters, my mom, Janet and my aunt, Joyce.

Sometime in the 1950’s grandma and grandpa bought a second farm a few miles down the road. They moved several buildings from that farm to this one. They also rented out the house and planted crops there.

After grandma passed away in 1992, grandpa split the farm between my mom and my aunt. Auntie Joyce got the part that was purchased in the 1950’s and mom ended up with the plot that Fred and Ella had originally purchased.

My parents live about three miles from here and so it was pretty convenient for them to utilize the farm for a portion of their beef cattle operation. Mom and dad started planting crops here and using the pastures and barns for shelter and food for part of their herd.

A couple of years ago my parents decided to split the farm and give it to my sister and me. Mom and dad still use some of the pastures, fields and part of a barn. My family and I run our own small farming projects here which currently include chickens, geese, goats, sheep and a C.S.A.

Shearing Phyllis

Last April I bought two sheep and a goat at a livestock auction. Both of the sheep are interesting specimens. Phyllis is a tall sheep with a grey face and legs, white wool and small horns. She weighed 175 pounds (wool included) when I bought her. Phyllis’ pal, Marilyn is a hair sheep, meaning that instead of wool she grows hair. Marilyn weighed in at 75 pounds when I bought her and is really a beautiful animal. She’s light brown on top with black markings, no horns and big, pretty yellow-brown eyes.

My husband, Cass and I unloaded these three critters into a pen in our barn. With the pasture that we had earlier fenced off for them quickly greening up we knew we had to shear Phyllis reasonably soon (we figured it would be easier to catch a somewhat skittish 175 pound sheep in a pen rather than in a two-acre pasture).

Cass and I had never shorn a sheep before nor had we ever actually observed a sheep being shorn. We started reading up on it. From what we gathered all we had to do was: spread a tarp down in a small pen (this would catch the wool and keep it from getting dirty); get the sheep to stand on the tarp; position the sheep between our knees on it’s back or side; use a clippers or scissors to first trim off any dingleberries or dread locks, discard these; and finally proceed to clipping the fleece starting at the animal’s head and clipping in wide sweeps across the body until you get to the bottom. The fleece should come off in one neat piece leaving a nicely groomed looking sheep in its wake.

The whole procedure seemed pretty straightforward and Cass and I figured we could probably de-fleece Phyllis in maybe 15 minutes (since we were inexperienced, an experienced sheep shearer could probably do it in 5). I thought to myself, hell, I could probably have half a scarf crocheted of Phyllis’ fine wool by the end of this evening.

I called my parents, who live just down the road, to set up some day care for our then seven month old son. They said they’d be more than happy to come up and watch the festivities. They showed up with a camera and an extra pair of scissors.

Cass and I were pretty certain that this was not Phyllis’ first rodeo (according to our readings sheep that have been sheared in the past are not really all that opposed to it). So we sauntered into the pen reasonably confident that we could easily herd Phyllis into the prearranged sheep shearing area that we had prepared.

Phyllis was simultaneously onto us and unimpressed with our herding abilities. She easily side-stepped us, carefully avoiding the open gate that led into the shearing area. As a result, we soon learned that this was going to be a more hands on kind of job than we had previously thought. We commenced tackling Phyllis. My husband and I are not very large people. Phyllis outweighed each of us by about 45 pounds plus she’s a way better wrestler than either of us could ever hope to be.

After some serious wrestling and few choice words that had nothing to do with sheep shearing, Cass managed to secure Phyllis in a head lock (I use the term “secure” loosely here). Really Cass just had a hold of her neck and he was leaning back and trying to put the brakes on while Phyllis, obviously the one in control here, trotted around the pen in apparent denial of her need for a haircut.

I chased this Cass-Phyllis train along with Marilyn and the goat for a few turns. I finally got my bearings and started bringing up the caboose by grabbing onto Phyllis’ hind end. I started pushing her and to the best of my ability also steering her. Between the two of us Cass and I managed to steer/drag Phyllis to the sheep shearing area.

Right away we learned that there were a few problems with our shearing set-up. First off, Phyllis was terrified of the tarp we had spread on the floor and actually started bucking. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,” hollered my husband as Phyllis thrashed him up and down. “Let ‘er go,” I hollered back as I released my end and frantically started kicking the tarp out of Phyllis’ way.

A second problem with out set-up was that Marilyn and Phyllis could see each other through the gate and were experiencing severe separation anxiety. They let us know how distressed they were by adding their deep, sad bleats to the general chaos.

Realizing that shearing Phyllis (wouldn’t ‘Shearing Phyllis’ be a great name for a band?) was going to be more complex than we originally expected, but knowing we had to press on, Cass moved onto the next step which was; position the sheep between your knees. This act of bravery earned Cass more than one sheep ride around the pen.

At this point we decided to discard everything we had ever learned about sheep shearing (which wasn’t much) and develop our own method. Our method was this; hold Phyllis down anyway you can and clip her wool in any manner possible. My dad hopped into the pen and helped us out. Throughout the next hour the three of us managed to hold Phyllis down in many ways (at one particularly hectic point we even had her hog tied) and clip copious amounts of wool off in a willy-nilly fashion.

When it was finally finished, Phyllis looked reasonably shorn. Examining the tangled mass of wool lying haphazardly on the floor I decided that since it was already April I really didn’t need a new scarf after all.

What's Eener Planting?

Here is a list of most of the veggies I’ll be planting this coming season. I’ve broken them down into early, middle and late categories based on records I kept on last year’s garden. These are estimates and certain produce may be ready earlier or later depending on weather.

Early (June and July): arugula, bok choi, carrots, comfrey, dill, green onions, horseradish, lettuce, new potatoes, radishes and swiss chard.

Middle (August and September): beans, beets, beggas, broom corn, brussel sprouts, cherry tomatoes, sweet corn, cucumbers, kohlrabi, okra, onions, pasta squash, peas, peppers, potatoes, sunflowers, tomatoes and turnips.

Late (October): corn shocks, gourds, ornamental corn, pop corn, pumpkins and winter squash.

Some things, like radishes and lettuce for example, may reappear in your boxes sometime between August and October since I usually plant those types of crops more than once.

Here are some other things I plan on growing that I didn’t have harvest records from last year: luffa, garlic, cockscomb, broccoli, sweet peas, musk melon, fennel, leeks, basil and cilantro.

Raking Dad's Hay

It’s January 3rd and it’s been windy, damp and grey out all day. It’s now sleeting out. What a perfect time to reminisce about making hay. This morning I fed my goats and sheep some hay that looked about like the day we made it; leafy, a beautiful shade of green, smelled like a breath of summer.

Back in the day, farmers used to cut hay by hand with a scythe (think grim reaper style) it was then left to dry in the sun and finally piled up someplace, usually in a hay mow. They had to salt these piles to keep them from starting on fire since large volumes of organic matter tend to put off a lot of heat and eventually become combustable. Like most aspects of farming, making hay has been mechanized and today their exists all manner of machinery to assist farmers in making hay faster and more efficiently.

Even though a lot has changed in the making of hay over the years one aspect of it has remained a constant, hell hath no fury like a farmer with hay down. This is an understandable constant since many factors have to come together before a decent bale of hay can be produced and most of these factors are beyond a farmer’s control. Besides actually raising a good crop which involves soil maintenance, plowing, seeding, etcetera, you also have to have a fairly lengthy stretch of dry and preferably sunny weather. This is all in addition to having an equally long stretch of no mechanical breakdowns.

If something should go awry, for example unpredictable rain or an impromptu engine overhaul, a farmer could potentially get a sub par crop, a crop that is much smaller than anticipated or worse, no hay at all. As a result, a farmer could end up with little or no grub for their critters in the winter thus they may have to either sell critters or buy hay. In short, there’s a lot riding on a hay crop.

I’ve helped my dad make hay in some capacity for the past 12 years. Over these hay seasons I’ve witnessed a fair share of furies spurred from making hay. I’ve seen my dad get frustrated over twisted twine, busted rake teeth, punctured tractor tires and broken belts. I’ve seen him out run thunder storms by coming down off steep field roads with a full load of hay rattling behind a chugging tractor in top gear. I’ve heard him swear like a sailor and seen him sweat like a butcher over his hay making endeavors.

This past summer, my dad promptly sprained his knee (making it pretty much impossible for him to drive a tractor) right after cutting all his hay. Hay that has been cut should be raked and baled as soon as it’s dry enough otherwise you risk exposure to moisture which is really bad for hay; it can deplete the nutritional value or even ruin it all together. As if my dad wasn’t already pressed for time, I had never raked with his new rake and needed to be trained in. My dad recruited my brother-in-law to run his baler for him and set to work teaching me the intricacies of running a V rake.

For the record, I’m used to running a circular rake (a totally different deal) and my dad is somewhat of a perfectionist plus we had that whole “hell’s fury” thing happening what with all that downed hay. The training session stretched through the better part of two days with my dad trailing me on his four-wheeler pretty much the entire time I was raking.

At first dad hollered out instructions from his four-wheeler perch with a note of gratitude in his voice. He concocted an intricate system of hand gestures which corresponded with the many positions that the rake had to be maneuvered into. But as the day wore on and I struggled with the higher speeds that the rake required and the fact that it doesn’t perform as it should on steeper hills, the hollering stopped and the barking began. I started concocting a few hand gestures of my own. Needless to say, by the time all the hay was raked, tempers were running a bit high as were rpms on the tractor.


Furies aside, making hay is actually a pretty enjoyable part of farming that is if everything goes right. You not only get to be outside in beautiful, sunny weather but you also get to enjoy the smell of fresh cut hay (quite possibly the best smell on earth). Additionally, when it’s all said and done you can look at the pile of bales and know you’ve been a part of producing something really important and tangible. The fun doesn’t stop there; you also get to feed your animals something tasty and green in the dead of winter (hay bales are really bales of summer) and animals get excited about and enjoy good hay.

Christmas Goose

Two years ago I decided it would be a good idea to branch out from my usual poultry realm (I had pretty much only raised chickens up until this point) and attempt to raise some geese. So I dug out my trusty Murry McMurry hatchery catalog and went ahead and ordered 12 goslings which cost me $80. Looking back on this purchase, I'm a little surprised I went through with it; after all you can get 25 chickens for about $30. Apparently I was blinded by pastoral visions of large, beautiful, stately geese gracing my yard, leisurely munching on bugs with me in the background admiring them lovingly. Little did I know that there would be little leisure and pretty much no love in my efforts to raise these geese.

When the goslings arrived in a box at the post office I got them home and released them into my usual baby chick brooder set-up which involves a children's plastic swimming pool, a heat lamp, straw bedding and food and water. Right away I was shocked by the stupidity of these small, fluffy dinosaur-look-alike birds. The first thing they did was to launch themselves directly into their water source with the apparent aim to get as wet as possible. The chick watering device is specifically designed so that chicks can get water without getting their fluff wet, it’s a mason jar screwed onto a special cap that allows for a constant supply of water in a small trough. Anyone who has raised small birds, whether it’s chickens, ducks, geese or what-have-you knows that a wet baby bird is pretty much a dead baby bird and sure enough I lost several of these birds right away.

To combat these chronic swimmers, I added a second heat lamp to their brooder with the idea that if I couldn’t keep them dry at least I could keep them very, very warm. This stroke of genius worked for the most part and when it was time to put them in their pen/yard I emerged with six healthy goslings (yes, I started with 12).

A side note on this lost half dozen: at this point in time I was pregnant and like many pregnant women, I was somewhat emotional. I vividly remember being very distraught over the deaths of these six birds and telling my husband that I really was not a very good mother goose and had no idea how I would do with an actual human baby. As it turns out everything went fine with the actual human baby and we now have an actual human toddler.

O.K. so then I was feeling better about the whole situation because these six geese were doing well and I actually got to watch them do goose things outside. I especially enjoyed watching them splash around in their “pond” which was actually a children’s swimming pool (did I mention that children’s swimming pools are really handy?).

Unfortunately, this period of goose-bliss did not last long for me because this was about the time that they started getting nasty. I’m talking hissing menacingly, charging at me with their goofy elongated necks stretch out gnashing their goose jaws and flapping their monstrous wings at me (the flap of a goose wing still strikes fear into my heart).

Needless to say I began admiring them from afar. I devised elaborate feeding plans where I’d distract them by flinging something really delicious like leftover mac and cheese into their yard then wielding a sturdy stick, I’d run into their pen and frantically fill their food and water dishes. Believe me, filling/cleaning their pond was no picnic.

Did you know that geese have a wingspan of five to six feet? And that their wings are so strong that they could actually break your arm? Also did you know that geese have serrated bills which are capable of ripping and tearing human flesh? Good info to know for the novice goose raiser indeed.

Additionally, did you know that geese fight ruthlessly and sometimes even to the death amongst themselves? They hit each other with their wings. It sounds like a fist fight except instead of hollering like human fighters they honk in a very loud and obnoxious manner (did I mention that they honk in a loud and obnoxious manner pretty much every waking second of their lives?). As a result of their aggressive nature, I spent many a tense moment out in the goose yard breaking up fights with a snow shovel. You can imagine how unsurprised I was one day to find a goose laying out in their yard dead, the obvious loser of a particularly ruthless fight.

Not only were the geese mean to people and themselves but they also were mean to other animals, especially the chickens. In one particularly snow shovel worthy incident, a gander had the neck of one of my hens clasped in his bill while he proceeded to bash her into the ground and then flip her up so that her nearly lifeless body smacked against his back. Miraculously, this hen survived the attack, sadly another did not. At this point in my goose-raising endeavors I was pretty much convinced that I had raised some sort of devil-spawn-type strain of geese.

Even after the chicken murdering incident and all the fights, I still was interested in raising geese. I’m not exactly sure why, maybe it was the initial investment, maybe it was because of the challenges of raising the goslings or perhaps I just like to sit back (pretty far back) and enjoy their bad-assness.

My husband and I butchered two of the geese and served them for Christmas Eve dinner at our house. It was a long and sordid affair raising these geese and luckily they tasted great. We did keep one gander and one hen, perhaps we’ll get some goslings out of the deal.