Killdeer was here...*

They are still here, in fact.
*Poetic license taken for the grammatical lapse.

In the pasture behind the house, I noticed a few of the alpacas peering at something in the former burn pile. I got the binoculars and saw it was a bird flapping on the ground. Quickly, I moved the dams into the adjacent pasture and closed the gate, then went over to investigate. I found a ring of rocks with an egg in it. After about 15 minutes, the bird returned.

Before letting the girls into that pasture the next day, I checked again, and there were 2 eggs. Guess they hadn't scared the bird off after all. A couple of days later, there were 4 eggs. I placed a rusted coil nearby so I could sight it more easily from the porch.

By the brown and white striped markings, I identified the birds as Killdeer and researched them online. But I could not find any information on how long they incubate the eggs before hatching. So I emailed the president of a local birding group (an ornithology instructor at the University of Oregon) with my main question: How much time am I investing in keeping my herd out of this sizable pasture?

His response was quite informative:

Killdeer almost invariably lay 4 eggs and usually 1 egg per day. Two-day laying intervals are very rare, as are 5 eggs, so you can safely assume that the complete clutch was laid over a four-day period. Once the final egg is laid, the adults will begin incubating so that the eggs will all develop at the same rate and hatch on the same day, frequently in the same hour.

The incubation period is somewhat variable and is affected by the outside temperatures. Right now we are not having any extreme weather so I would expect a normal incubation period of 22-28 days. Longer incubation periods have been reported but are rare.

If you saw one egg 2 weeks ago (14 days?), then the birds have likely been incubating for ~10 days which means that they have another 10-18 days before hatching. Both parents will share incubation duties and assist the young after they have hatched.

So this Friday (May 22) will mark 22 days of incubation, and hopefully hatching. I am not clear how long they will be nestlings, but since they are "precocial" they will be able to see and walk immediately. There's even a YouTube video of a similar nest.

The alpacas look across the fence at the parent birds, no doubt wondering why they are kept out of the pasture with all of the tasty grass. I put our herdsire Galileo in there for the day a few times and he grazes without bothering the nest. The girls would be rolling in the adjacent dirt, but he doesn't do that.

At our neighbor's pond on the other side of the fence, there are 2 sets of Canada geese goslings. One group of 7 evidently hatched in our pasture (I never found the nest) and, with their parents, spent their first day marching up and down the fenceline, looking for a way to get to the water. Even though the adults could easily fly to it, they remained grounded with their fuzzy offspring.

We opened the gate to the hayfield for them, and they toddled over to a gap in the fence and made their way to the pond. Both parents care for the young until they can fly.

All of these feathered babies are a prelude to 3 cria due in early June. Windancer, Disa and Fabia look especially large after shearing. I feed them rice bran pellets (for calories) along with their regular daily mineral pellets, so they will not be too drained of resources this last month, and to give them a good start towards lactation.

Our stately gray Fabia is 15 years old, and this will be her 10th cria (her first for us). She is strong and healthy, and births easily. This photo was taken a few days before shearing.

The 3 most pregnant dams were 6 wks away from delivery, and I chose to shear them. It's is a judgment call whether the stress of shearing might cause premature delivery, or the stress of over-heating if they are not shorn and the weather turns hot. I gave these three dams Rescue Remedy to calm them, and they were sheared first and quickly. They exhibited no problems; I was glad I made that choice.

A final sign of spring is that the bee hives have arrived. They are placed at the far end of the hayfield, across a seasonal stream. What a surprise to see the patchwork of colors this year! The beekeeper tells me that bees forage for nectar up to 3 miles, so they enjoy the fruit trees, willows and garden plants in this rural area. And we have a gallon of honey from last year's harvest, and a recipe for mead!

Arts & Crafts

Combing the arts of design, supplies acquisition, construction and painting, we have completed our sign! Along the bottom we will hang notices like Open Farm Today 10-4, Yarn & Roving, etc. -- as soon as I make them. When granddaughters are here next week, we will plant a flowerbed beneath it.

People enjoy this road as a lovely "back-door" drive into Eugene, and the sign will capture the curiosity of passers-by for Open Ranch Days. We love visitors!

Very Local Painters
As Mike and I unloaded the van recently, we noticed a car driving slowly past, and a few minutes later, it returned up the hill. The car stopped across the end of the driveway and the passenger jumped out, rushing to introduce herself as a neighbor from a nearby street. She and her friend were in search of a place to set up their easels and paint boxes, to watercolor landscapes before daylight eluded them. We made our introductions and invited them to look around for a vista that would work.

Cathy and Victoria are members of Plein Air Painters of Eugene, and they go out each week, rain or shine, to paint outdoor scenes. Enjoying their enthusiasm and expertise, I invited them to come again, and they connected me with their fearless leader, Brooks. Now Aragon Alpacas is on the painters' April calendar, and we look forward to hosting the group, rain or shine.

Spinners' Camp
Mike gifted me with my first trip away from the farm since the alpacas began to arrive last March by taking over my chores while I attended a 4-day spinners' retreat at the Silver Falls Conference Center. The EWES (Eugene Wednesday Evening Spinners) get away for a long weekend every spring and fall. This time, 16 clever, bright, creative, energetic women shared their expertise and joy as we spun, knitted, crocheted, and laughed our way through the days, pausing only to eat and sleep.

Besides me, the EWES welcomed two other newcomers to the retreat, one a knitter, the other a crocheter. We stayed in threesome cabins, and geek-knitter Andrea bunked with Elissa and me.

No longer can I shyly claim to be a beginning spinner, although as with everything else, there is always more to learn. I came home with a greater appreciation for fiber arts and a heightened self-confidence in my spinning abilities.

I learned to ply my early spinning attempts into chunky yarn. With practice, and from watching others, I can spin more delicately. Now to complete some other projects on the needles so I can knit something from my beginner yarn. Much like the first pot that comes out of the kiln in pottery, this first yarn attempt will be memorable for its own lessons and reasons.

I have signed up for the 'wheel mechanics' class at Black Sheep to learn which knob to turn when, and how to alter the functions of my double-drive Ashford Traveller wheel. Hopefully the four births due mid-June will be accommodating so I can attend this session!

The Art of Weaning
While dancing with the rain these spring days, I am weaning cria: day weaning for a week, and then 24/7. Troubadour and Jedlicka are looking especially damp, although beneath all of that alpaca fleece is a very dry animal.

Mike is drafting plans for another shelter, to increase the use of our pens. Then we can house the kindergarten class of weanling boys in the male area.

Brew-crafting
Oh, and we've purchased four hop rhizomes as starter vines. In home-brewing, hops are one of the most expensive ingredients. By growing our own, we'll not only have enough for the recipes, but also for making into fragrant wreaths and arrangements.

Our beekeeper brought by a bucket of honey and recipes for mead, so that's on our agenda, too!

(our little cabin in the woods at Silver Falls' Retreat)

Crazy Feet!

For an hour or so each afternoon, I have been letting the dams and crias (25 total) out into the hayfield. As soon as they see me heading toward the gate, they run ahead in anticipation. That's Sable, practically attached to my shoulder.

The young alpacas especially love to romp on the 10 acres, and sometimes the dams join in the pronking (boing... boing... boing, as if they're spring-loaded). Then they break into a full-out run, and sometimes do a side-kick that Mike fondly calls "crazy feet."

The hay field remains a perplexity to us. If we plant orchard grass (alpaca's hay of choice), at the most nutritious time in its growth cycle for mowing, the weather is too wet to cut it. And if we leave it to grow until the weather is dry enough, the plants flower and go to seed, draining the leaves of nutrition. So last year we planted horse blend (timothy, rye, orchard grass and one other), and it was indeed harvested when most of the grass and seed heads were dry.




Most of the 420 bales we sold -- folks just came and loaded up their trucks right in the field. We used some of them as a boundary for our garden, and I have built up layers of compost within it over the fall and winter months. (We can even hollow out places to plant trailing vegetables atop the bales.) And some bales we stacked in the barn as wind-breaks in stalls, and to be used as bedding on the concrete floor. A few of the alpacas choose to munch on it for diversion, but it offers very little food value for them. Granola, I call it, because it is just a crunchy snack.

Weights and Measures
I started the year by getting a weight on each alpaca. Most do not mind being haltered and led to the scale, and some stand there more calmly than others. A few need patient coaxing, and two refused to budge, so I had to enlist help from a friend. Fabia is the most reluctant to be 'processed' for anything she considers unnecessary. But she also loves her carrots, so she was easily lead, unhaltered, to the scale and stood quite happily while munching on the dish of sliced carrots I held in front of her. I woulnd't mind if they all did it that way!

I do not spit-test the girls in winter months, because I would not breed them if they became open. We will test them again at end of March, hoping all pregnancies have held. The first four births are due in mid- to late June. Most of the other dams are due in Sept and October.

Since the winter sun is at such a low angle, we give Vitamin D paste to the crias bi-weekly. At end of day, while the adults are enjoying their pellets, the crias come into the creep feeder to eat unchallenged, so it is simple and safe to catch them there and give them a dose of 'orange sauce.'

Even though there are not as many chores to do for herd maintenance during the winter, the season brings on many more farm tasks. Mostly due to the weather and the latitude. In mid-December, I began afternoon regathering from the day pastures and feeding at 3;30 in order to be done by dark.

Once we passed Winter Solstice, the days began noticeably lengthening. Reading the Farmer's Almanac, I discovered that as days lengthen again, daylight extends about four times faster at the end of the day than at the beginning -- a fact of Nature I never realized when holding an office job!

Frost is Our Friend
The frost is often quite beautiful, caught cobweb-like in fuzzy ears or outlining leaves and grass blades. Mud and ice offer their own challenges. When the ground is so wet, the riding mower with trailer is unusable for poop scooping so we reverted to pushing wheelbarrow. A 4-wheel drive 'gator would be handy, but we haven't made that investment yet. And so far, we do not feel the need to get a tractor.

We put straw down on the pathways so they are less slippery. I did land on my tush one time and had to carefully sit sideways for a few weeks until the tail bone bruise healed. But we also discovered that frost is our friend. After driving a load of wood down to the workshop, the van kept spinning on the way back up the driveway. Early the next morning, the ground had frozen and Mike was able to drive it up just fine. I used the same technique to move the mower with trailer around for the next few mornings, and once again could take the load down to fertilize the hayfield.

Winter sets in

Strange winter happening outside. It hit pretty hard in December, was quite the adventure driving to work on ice - spent a couple hours on a blocked freeway one morning when I was supposed to get to work early to install some new software. After a week or two of this stuff, it warmed up (to freezing) and it's held there at night ever since. Days are a balmy 40-45, though. Crisp but not really cold.

Had a good Christmas on the farm, fairly quiet but we're not really removed from family here, just at the other end of the wireless.

The WinterBrau - a nice quiet reflective Organic Brown Ale - I made in November (dubbed it Amber Waves because we bottled it on Veteran's Day) sat in our Alpaca Store, where the heaters have been off all winter. As a result, it must've thought it was a Lager and never quite carbonated in the bottle. But it isn't bad, and I discovered that bringing it in the house for a week or two before opening one helps.

How to boil the wort in a deep-fat turkey fryer.

Then my lady surprised me by smuggling my daughter into the state for a visit. It was a Great Christmas present. We went up to Oakridge where I was born and played in the remaining snow one day. My family will recognize this picture as the selfsame spot we all learned to swim as kids, and yes, you're right - that water never does warm up. But it is beautiful up there.

Meanwhile, the alpacas don't seem to notice that it's cold out. They do prefer their water LIQUID though, so Ann's been hauling buckets of boiled water all over the farm to melt the ice in their waterbuckets. We should have some better solution ironed out by next winter...

Dawn meets Dusk

The last cria born to our herd this year arrived on Monday, September 29, and thankfully it was a simple, quick birth.

Murphy Brown is generally the first to greet me in the mornings, and very interactive with me when I'm in the pens. About three weeks ago during evening chores, I noticed her sitting very still, then sometimes rolling as if uncomfortable. I thought perhaps the baby was shifting and pressing on a nerve, and consulted our vet for his advice. Since Dr Pat was in our area the next day, he stopped to check her.

From my description, he suspected a uterine torsion (twist), but Murphy's heart rate and temperature were normal, which is generally not the case if there is a torsion. They are more common when the fetus us large, and if anything, Murphy looked small for her 10+ months of pregnancy. But when he did a manual check, there was a definite rotation of the ligaments supporting the cervix.

Torsions are rare, and most are "right-twist." Only one in 20 twist to the left, and that was Murphy's case. He could reverse it with external manipulation, but it would take three people, so I called our neighbor Elissa to come and help.

Once Murphy was mildly sedated, we got her to cush and rolled her on her left side. Dr Pat held and pushed on her uterus as Elissa turned her hind quarters and I rotated her neck and front legs. We returned Murphy to cush (upright) position and rolled her in the same manner one more time. Upon another manual check, Dr Pat declared her returned to normal positioning.

I kept a close eye on Murphy for the next few days, and she was once more her curious, interactive self. She's a tall, elegant dam, but needed some extra weight in the last few weeks of pregnancy, so she eagerly anticipated her morning bowl of pellets, rice bran and a handful of alfalfa for added calories.

Last Monday morning, I did not immediately see Murph's engaging face, so I went looking for her. She was one of the last to emerge from the barn, and when she turned, I saw that she had begun birthing. The cria's head and two legs were out, though still encased in the unbroken sac. I nicked it to release the water, then edged Murphy into a clean pen, and the other curious looky-lou's out.

Keeping a watchful eye on her, I gathered towels, the cria kit, a note pad and pen, and my camera. Within 15 minutes the baby was on the ground, a healthy, normal boy. There is little fluid and no blood with a normal birth, but the morning air was cool, so I towelled him lightly and stepped away.

I was thrilled to see that the cria was black, for this is the first offspring of our vicuña-colored herdsire, Canzelle's Orion. He is bred to two other black dams, and soon to a gray one. Orion's sire is medium silver gray Patagonia's Quijote, so we are hoping that Orion will also produce gray.

This is Murphy's second cria, and she is an attentive mom. Elissa and visiting friend Una came over to see him. We kept our distance to allow mom and baby to bond, while I took notes of when he sat sternal, tried to stand, tried to nurse, etc. Although he seemed small to me, he weighed 15.7 lbs that afternoon. By Friday, he had already gained two lbs.

Murphy still gets her morning bowl of calories, to increase her weight during lactation. On a scale of 1-5, she is a 2.

We have named him Navarre, the black-clad captain in the tale of Ladyhawke who cared for her each dawn, then turned into a wolf at dusk as Isabeau reclaimed her human form. Since Ladyhawke was the first cria born to us this year, it seemed fitting that the last one is black Navarre.

Ladyhawke greeting Orion's Navarre

Herd Alert - One Male's Perspective

On one of our first visits to an alpaca farm, we were standing in the pasture with the dams when they heard a coyote. The high-pitched, staccato alarm echoed through the group, all turning with necks and ears upright to face the direction of the danger. Immediately, the sentinel llama ran in the direction of the unseen marauder while the dams all ran in the opposite direction, circled up with the cria protected in the center, much like a wagon train under attack.

Alpacas make few sounds, and a 'herd alert' is generally used only for imminent danger. But some alpacas are more 'alert-y' than others. When we took our dog to a ranch that I had visited many times and kept her at a distance, Promise sounded the alert while the others quietly maintained a 'watch and wait' attitude. But as prey animals, it's always good to be cautious.

On a few occasions the distress signal has awakened us in the middle of the night. We jump up, pitch on jeans, jackets and shoes, grab the flashlights stationed by the door and head out to determine the cause. (We do not have livestock guardian dogs.) So far, we have only spotted the reflective eyes of deer meandering through our hay field on the way to the adjacent property. Before cross-fencing and critters moved in, this used to be their territory, too.

Last week during evening chores, as I exited Galileo's pen he sounded 'herd alert.' I looked all around and could spy no approaching danger. None of the other animals were on alert status, either by posture or sound. But Galileo was insistent and continued the shrill alarm.

Mike and I both looked all around and in the direction Galileo was facing. Finally we determined that the 'danger' he perceived was that the five yearling males in the pen next to the females, grazing along the same fenceline. As King of the Mountain, Galileo interpreted that as a strategic threat to his girls.

Shaking a dish of pellets, we enticed the boys back to their shed and closed them off from the neighboring pen. That was resolution enough for Galileo. He settled down and soon everyone went back to grazing.

All the while, our other herdsire, Orion, stood erect in his pen with his back to the drama, as if to say "I am not a part of the problem, I am not challenging you." These intelligent animals have a specialized system of body language that we continue to learn.

In the wild of the Andes, a macho herdsire stands atop a hillock and surveys his herd. Galileo is definitely in his prime and behaving exactly as he should. It's the silly humans that created this frenzy with our lack of understanding. If it weren't for the enforcement of fences, Galileo would have chased the boys away himself. So it was our job to rectify the disorder we'd created and return calmness to the herd.

This herd alert was not quite the heart-pounding rush of a 2:00 a.m drill by search-light, but very solvable once we paid attention. The alpacas listen and watch; as their shepherds, we must listen and watch them.

Moments later, a relaxed Galileo was eating his pellets out of my hand, satisfied that 'his girls' were safe.

Playing Barn

As a kid, I used to enjoy "playing house" — going to the store on my tricycle, cooking Tinkertoys for dinner, bathing the teddy bears and putting them to bed. So once when Mike came to find me puttering about in the barn, he innocently asked, "Whatcha doin' ?"

I paused for a moment, then replied with a smile, "Playing barn."

It seems such an apt term for the hum of delight that I feel at being able to work in this structure that is 108 years old (give or take a few), setting up my supplies, arranging the halters on a wrack that I built, watching the alpacas watch me as I move about their quarters. Like a giant jigsaw puzzle, every part of what I do is somehow connected to another part: raking poop, fluffing hay, weighing crias, halter-training, spit-testing. And on I hum...

Whenever our granddaughters visit, they join right in the circle. The girls quickly learned 'gate ettiquette,' moving aside so the animals will proceed through without feeling threatened; and always closing a gate behind you. We haltered the yearlings and took them for a walk to a different pasture. And fed the big boys carrot treats. Alpacas and children seem to have a natural affinity. Perhaps its the playfulness and curiosity of both that makes them easy companions.

During their week here, Gwen was often out with the dams, just watching them, talking to the crias, or filling a water bucket. She went to horse camp this summer, and taught me a new knot. Sheba is on a 30-day penicillin regimen, and now I use the daisy knot when tying her to a fence post each morning for her shot.

Annika discovered that if she gets down close to the ground, a curious cria will come near to check her out.

We also went to the Creswell Farmer's Market where our friend Elissa was spinning and selling some of her sheeps' fleece. For dinner that night we feasted on dusky brown 'Black Prince' heritage tomatoes and herbed goat cheese, and lots of crookneck squash with onions.

During these Indian summer days, I've been revisiting my garden plot, adding more lasagna layers to it so the decomposition will make it ready for planting next spring. Even throw-away fleece (too short/ dirty/ coarse) becomes a layer in the garden. The rest of the fleece has been sorted into projects: some destined for yarn from the mini-mill, some for felting into pet beds, some for the Alpaca Blanket Project with Pendleton, and some for my own hand-crafting and spinning. So many ideas, so little time!

Other family hand-crafting includes homebrewing beer. In April, Matt and Mike brewed an India pale ale and a Scotch red ale. This trip, Gwen assisted in the counter-top labeling process. (typing paper labels floated on a saucer of milk and placed on the bottle, excess blotted off)