self sufficiency and community

2016/11/28 deej 0

A friend of mine asked yesterday how long it would be before the farm was self sufficient. It’s not as simple a question to answer as you might think.

 

One answer is: never. We aren’t planning to grow grain, and although I do have some tubs of potatoes and a sweet potato patch, and plans to put in chestnut trees, we aren’t really focusing on growing what the biodynamic gardening people call ‘calory crops’. Those are the foods which make up the majority of your diet – the carbohydrates that give you a baseline energy hit and leave you feeling full and satisfied. For most of humanity the main calory crops are various grains (wheat, maize, teff, millet, rice, barley, etc.), mainly because they are high yielding and fast growing, although potatoes, plantains, and a few tropical starch-producing root crops such as taro are also important.

 

On the other hand, we will be growing some calory crops. Dates, Bananas, a variety of nuts, and a wide variety of fruit are all in the plan, and it is possible to survive on these sorts of foods without the addition of high density carbohydrates. Our modern (and even heirloom) fruit varieties are so high in sugar that they can easily provide us with the energy we need as well as providing vitamins and other nutritients. My not exactly back-of-a-napkin but not fully researched and verified calculations indicate that if we put all the trees in that I want, and if they all survive and produce more or less as well as the literature indicates they should, then once they’re intot heir adult production levels we will in fact produce enough food to entirely fulfil the energy and nutritional needs of somewhere between 8 and 18 people. And there are the animals as well, chickens and geese and ducks (we have muscovies, too, now), and bees producing honey. The fruit and nut trees take between 3 and 10 years to reach full production, and not all are in the ground yet, but.. call it ten years. In ten years, we could be self sufficient if we wanted to, and we were willing to give up any type of food we couldn’t grow ourselves. And we’d have it pretty good too – we’d be giving up most of our wheat & rice intake, and making that up with fruit and fresh vegetables and nuts. Instead of having a sandwich, we’d have dried figs and dates, maybe some cheese, or fresh berries.

 

The third answer is that no one is ever truly self sufficient. Self sufficiency is by its nature isolationist, and that just isn’t how the world works now (if it ever did). Community sufficiency is a much better aim, where instead of pulling back and focusing on your own needs you move forward and form relationships with your neighbours and the people around you who have similar interests. The community you form can act as a miniature village, and between that group of people it’s much easier to make sure that there’s enough to go around – enough food, enough clean water, enough social support. Enough help on the days when running a farm is hard, and an extra pair of hands to get the firebreaks done or fix the fences is the thing you need. Enough shared objectives to check out random banging and crashing in the middle of the night if your neighbour’s away – and hey, it was just kangaroos making a racket, but knowing that someone will check still makes you sleep easier if you have to be away overnight. Enough to share with friends and family, and not just your own friends and family either but the friends and family of your entire community. That’s what this is about. That’s what self sufficiency should look like, and I think it’s what we should be aiming at.

 

On that note, this summer we’re going to start slowly ramping up our workshop capacity. I’m running a trial cheese-making workshop in mid December, with plans to run more if it goes well. We’re going to break out the seed-ball machine in the new year and have a seed ball making workshop (please hit us up on Facebook if you’d be interested in that – it’s kid friendly too), and I’m going to see what I can do about a grafting workshop towards the end of summer. In between times, there’s potential for some food preparation along the lines of jam and chutney making, and fermentation, and possibly some walk-through tours with info about keeping urban livestock. So if you’re keen to get involved and join our fledgling community, watch this space (and the facebook page, which is where events are posted when the dates are finalised). Feel free to request a workshop if there’s something you’d like to see, or if there’s something you’d be keen to teach people – we have a venue, and it would be great to learn something new.

rotational high density grazing – small scale

2016/11/21 deej 0

I’ve ruminated at length about the pros and cons of goats (adorable miniature milk goats, and there are even Nigerian Dwarf goats in Australia now!) and sheep (ah the possibilities of non-tree-eating ruminants). I’ve talked about getting a house cow (still in the long term plan) and considered the cost versus difficulty versus milk quality and quantity of various breeds of all these animals. I’ve considered alpacas (beautiful silky suri fleece to spin) but decided that in the short term they’re too expensive for the returns they offer, and not friendly enough to get one just as a pet.

 

As an aside, my (extensive) spreadsheet indicates that, for me, the best of these would be goats, for milk and meat production: Anglo-Nubians (or mini Anglo-Nubians), Nigerian Dwarf goats, or even Boer goats. A highland or Dexter house cow is also quite plausible, even including the cost of buying feed, and Dorper cross sheep are plausible too. Alpacas cost more to keep than the value of their products per year.

 

But cattle, goats & sheep aren’t small scale livestock. You could keep a pet sheep or goat in the back yard, if you have a reasonably large back yard and a sympathetic local council, but you really couldn’t graze said pet using only said back yard. You’d need to buy in feed in the form of hay, grain, and pellets or other commercially produced food, and probably supplement with weeds and prunings as well. Rotational grazing on a small scale requires small livestock. Guinea pigs or rabbits are a good choice, and their poo is very good for gardens and lawns (low nitrogen so it can be used without being composted first). My choice for small scale rotational grazing, however, is geese. (Although I am planning on getting some guinea pigs as well, as soon as we’ve built a guinea pig tractor to keep them safe from predators).

 

My adorable goslings (affectionately called “gooselings”, and named Tarragon, Cersei, and Jamie) are starting to get their adult feathers now. They still have baby-fluff, and they still make cute little baby-goose begging noises to encourage me to bring them food, but they’re getting big. Each one is easily 2 kg now, and they’re growing every day. We rotated them (i.e. moved their run) yesterday for the first time, and the spot where they were is grazed and trampled and covered in goose poop. So – success so far.

 

The three geese are enclosed in a 4 x 4 m run, originally sold as a dog run. It’s 1.8 m in height, fenced all the way around with chainlink fence, and has a heavy duty bird net as and add-on roof to keep aerial (and climbing) predators out. The floor is open, so at night the geese are locked into a goose kennel to keep them safe form digging predators like foxes. They currently have a 10 L bucket of water, but we have a small pond for them which will go in soon. They get to graze all day, plus they get an armload of weeds and fresh grass and kitchen greens every morning, and a small allocation of chicken scratch mix. They seem to be pretty happy. Geese, like other grazing animals, tend to spend most of their time grazing and digesting. Geese can actually digest at least some cellulose, although it seems to be by mechanical means as they don’t appear to have commensal bacteria like the rumen species of ruminants. Ducks are similar, although ducks make more of a mess with their water, dabbling and playing in it until they create mud muddles.

 

For the back yard grazier (person who keeps grazing animals), geese are a pretty good choice. Unlike chickens, they won’t scratch up the grass or destroy a garden bed (although they will eat vegetables if they can get to them,. and may strip bark from young trees if they’re bored or hungry), and they don’t create messy mud patches like ducks. They also don’t destroy trees the way goats and sheep can – geese can strip bark off young trees but are very unlikely to kill a tree, and can’t reach to eat the growing tips of the branches. They can be noisy, and aggressive if they feel threatened, but they’re reasonably smart and can be trained to be quiet on command. There are also Muscovy “ducks” (actually they’re more closely related to geese, and also eat grass and do not create mud puddles), which don’t make any noise louder than a quiet sort of hissing sound or a soft trilling coo like a pigeon. Muscovies not only eat grass, they also eat insects – including flies. So they’re a definite win for the smallholder or backyard farmer. Geese and muscovies lay eggs seasonally rather than all year round like chickens, but the eggs are edible and delicious. If you have males and females (and thus fertilised eggs) you could also let the mother hatch them for some more baby birds. Or hatch some in an incubator, although that’s a little trickier than chicken eggs because the humidity needs to be just right.

 

Basically, grazing poultry are a pretty good choice for people with relatively small areas to keep them – especially if you have trees to fertilise. They don’t produce milk or wool, but they do produce eggs in spring (and up to 3 times per year for muscovies), and of course they produce fertiliser in the form of goose poop, building up the soil and recycling carbon. If keeping animals for meat is your thing then that’s also an option. Both geese and muscovies are very well regarded as meat animals, producing a flavourful, dark meat. If you do decide to kill one of your birds, obviously do it humanely using either controlled atmosphere killing (with nitrogen, not carbon dioxide – carbon dioxide will cause the sensation of suffocation, whereas nitrogen is undetectable and the bird just falls gently asleep and doesn’t wake up) or another humane method (such as beheading with a very sharp axe).

preserving summer

2016/11/16 deej 0

There’s something really deeply satisfying about picking and preparing – and preserving – your own food. Everything from jam and chutney to wine, cider, mead or beer, to vinegars, pickles, cheeses, yoghurt, jerky, .. So many delicious things. Preserving food isn’t just good fun, though; it’s an important means of extending the season of seasonal foods without adding millions of food miles by eating imported foods from who knows where. It’s a link to our cultural and gastronomic history, to foods our grandparents would have enjoyed and the cultures which those foods came from. And it’s a way of recalling the best parts of summer when the chilly, grey winter weather gets you down a bit – which is funny, given the unseasonally wet, stormy, cool weather we’re having at the moment.

 

I love every food preservation technique I’ve tried or eaten the results of. I’ve dehydrated things, and pickled things, I’ve made cheese and yoghurt from fresh milk, and I’ve preserved fruit in syrup. Today’s little google rabbit-hole has been jam-making. It’s a little too early for stone fruit still, although the early nectarines are in the shops and I can see them ripening in the orchards through the Swan Valley. It’s much too early for figs. But figs are today’s topic, mainly because I just ate a caramelised fig yoghurt and remembered how much I love that flavour. And our fig trees are just putting out their new leaves for summer, so I’m thinking wistfully of the futuer in which they are covered in delicious, jammy fruit.

 

Caramelised fig things have a slight burnt-sugar bitterness to them which balances the sticky sweetness of the fig, and brings out the deeper, fortified wine, golden afternoon sunshine notes from the fruit. One of my favourite applications of it is in Maggie Beer’s Burnt Fig, Honeycomb & Caramel Icecream, which is amazing. The key to the icecream, which is otherwise a honey and caramel flavoured custard icecream, pleasant but nothing special, is the Burnt Fig Jam (or, in fact, burnt fig syrup for the icecream). That burnt fig jam is pretty good, but it’s a little strong for me; I want the caramelised flavour without quite so much of the burnt flavour.

 

Maggie Beer’s burnt fig jam is made, according to her website, by reducing the figs with no water, then adding sugar and cooking until ‘burnt’, then adding some lemon juice to sharpen the flavour. The burnt fig syrup for the icecream contains figs, sugar, lemon juice, and a brown sugar syrup made with brown sugar, water, and verjuice. Amounts aren’t mentioned, unfortunately. Most fig jam recipes call for 1 part sugar to 2 parts figs by weight (actually anywhere from 300g – 750g sugar per kg of figs, but generally 500g to 1 kg). The method varies widely. I’ve never made fig jam myself, although I’ve made some very successful jams using citrus, berries, and guavas (not all together).

 

Nonetheless and undaunted, I am currently fascinated by the subject. So here’s my research-based thought experiment: caramelised fig jam. To be tested as soon as fig season arrives.

 

Caramelised Fig Jam

1 kg fresh, ripe figs

250g demerara or rapadura sugar (basically dark brown, mollases tasting sugar)

250g honey

juice of 1 -2 lemons (or to taste)

(optional) 1 Tbsp verjuice

(optional) 1 – 2 tsp spices or herbs – e.g. cinnamon, ginger, cardamom, star anise, black pepper, rosemary, lemon or orange rind, lemon thyme, sliced red chillis, ..

 

  • Roughly chop the figs. Stir together the chopped figs and the brown sugar, and refrigerate overnight.
  • Place the figs, sugar, and any liquid which has been released from the figs overnight into a heavy bottomed saucepan. Heat over medium-low heat until the figs are soft and cooked through, and the sugar is completely dissolved. Mash the figs gently to break them up further.
  • Stir in the honey, and any spices if you’re using them. Whole spices are better than ground, so half a star anise, or a small cinnamon quill is preferable to the equivalent in dried, ground spice. Either way works, though.
  • Bring to the boil, then cook over a very low heat for 45 minutes, or until thickened and sticky. Make sure to stir often.
  • Add verjuice and lemon juice; taste and adjust to your preferred level of tartness. Remove any whole spices or herbs.
  • Continue to cook until the jam is thick and sticky, and begins to stick to the bottom of the saucepan. You should be able to judge the degree of caramelisation (or burning) by smell. Be careful not to overdo it.
  • Cool slightly and seal in sterilised jars. Store in the fridge once completely cool.

 

Inspiration came from these sources:

 

And for those interested in the forest gardening side of things, the varieties of fig we currently have in the ground are:

  • White Genoa – Hardy in cooler weather; also known as Lattarula or Lemon due to the lemony flavour of ripe fruit. The fruit are large and very sweet, with yellowish green or chartreuse skin and rich amber pulp.  Good fro eating fresh, drying, or making jam.
  • Brown Turkey – Large fruit with green skin overlaid with brown, pink juicy flesh, and a sweet rich flavour. This is a great all-round fig, good for eating fresh or drying, cooking with or making into jam.
  • Esperance Heritage – A lesser known variety, this is listed in several rare fruit catalogues and it is still sold commercially by a few nurseries – but there are no descriptions of it online.

 

I also plan to put in:

  • Blue Provence – A rare fig, once grown more widely in Australia, Blue Provence fruit have a blue-violet skin and blue-purple tinged pulp with red seeds. The fruit are soft and sweet, and with than many anthocyanins (the purple-red colour found in berries and pomegranates), they’re full of antioxidants too.
  • Panache – Also called the Tiger fig, this unusual fruit is variegated (striped!) green on yellow. The flesh is strawberry pink, and delicious without being overly sweet, meaning that this is a good fig to eat fresh or use in salads.
  • Preston’s Prolific – This is a very high quality fig, with large, greenish-brownor purple fruit. The flesh is cream coloured, while the pulp is amber and sweet. 
  • White Adriatic – An Italian variety with thin yellowish-green skin and red flesh which has been likened to strawberry jam. Excellent flavour eaten fresh, and good for drying. A friend of mine has a tree, and we’ve dried fruit form it before – the dried fruit is a fantastic snack, not quite as sweet as dried figs often are.

 

And possibly some others. Probably. We’ll see.

 

Olives for integrated livestock-orchards

2016/11/14 deej 0

I’ve been doing an awful lot of research, recently, into integrated agroforestry and pastured livestock farming systems. Specifically the system of pasture and productive woodland common to the Iberian Peninsula (Spain and Portugal) which is commonly called  dehesa, or montado in Portugal.

 

Although the traditional dehesa forests are primarily made up of cork oak (Quercus suber) and holm oak (Quercus ilex), the system could work with any number of tree species. It’s basically a Mediterranean silvopasture system, with scattered tree cover (using trees which produce some sort of commercially valuable product) with pasture and animals grazing underneath. Traditional dehesa systems often include pasture raised pigs, which are fattened in the autumn on the acorns dropped by the oak trees and then slaughtered to make premium jamon iberico. The fallen leaves of the oak trees are also a useful fodder resource for pigs, sheep, goats, and cattle, supplementing the available pasture.

 

In an Australian context it turns out that oak trees aren’t really the way to go unless you’re planting a forest for pleasure. There’s a limited international market for cork (and even more limited domestic market), and the trees take around 25 – 35 years to produce a viable cork harvest (and can thereafter be harvested only every 9 – 10 years). There is no existing market for acorns, in spite of their value as pig feed, and the fact that when they’re properly processed they are entirely edible to humans too. And they’re gluten free, but provide a similar gumming capability to gluten, useful in baked goods.

 

Rather than oak trees, an Australian dehesa style system would work best if it used trees which produced a crop faster, and one for which there is an existing market. That still leaves several options, and the choice depends largely on the local climate (rainfall, available chill hours and heat units) and on what type of livestock will be included in the system. For example, apples or plums are a great option if (a) your region gets enough rainfall for them to thrive, (b) your region gets cold enough for long enough over winter to ensure good fruit set, and (c) you want to keep pastured poultry (turkeys, chickens, or geese will clean up windfall fruit and help control fruit fly, but won’t eat the foliage of the trees – which is potentially toxic). In warmer and lower rainfall regions, some of the best options in terms of market value, yield and productivity are date palms, pomegranates, and pistachio nuts. And olive trees.

 

Olive trees are appealing because they’re already widely planted, and there’s a huge market for both table olives and olive oil. The commodity prices may rise and fall, but it doesn’t look like the demand for olives and olive oil are likely to drop significantly any time soon. And of course, olive trees are beautiful, graceful trees which never fail to make me happy when I see them. One of my fondest memories from travelling in South America was the 100 year old olive grove in Lima, Peru; gnarled, old trees which had clearly been pruned and trained so that they could be easily harvested. They were in this tiny park on a median strip in the middle of a huge, super busy road, but they were still so peaceful and majestic. Yeah. I like olive trees.

 

We use olive oil for almost everything ourselves, and we go through about a litre of the stuff every six weeks. Sometimes a bit more, if I’m doing a lot of baking that month (yes, you can replace the butter in most recipes which call for butter with an equivalent volume of olive oil). Since the average yield for a mature olive tree is anywhere from 30 -80kg olives per year (averaging about 45kg per year for a ten year old tree), and the oil yield ranges from 12 – 21% (but averages around 18 – 20%), I worked out that six olive trees would more than cover us for our olive oil needs, and another six for all the table olives we can possibly eat. So I planned on twelve olive trees. We have seven in the ground already, so I went to order the remaining five – and promptly ordered twelve instead, because.. well.. olive trees are so lovely and I wasn’t sure which variety to get more of so I got three of each. The varieties we have are: Kalamata, Koroneiki, New Norcia Mission (a variant of Frantoio), and Manzanillo. They last week (ordered from Mission Horticulture, who were great), and will be going into the ground this week.

 

The other joy of olive trees is that the tree is remarkably multifunctional. The foliage can be eaten by ruminants (and pseudo-ruminants like rabbits), although due to the tannins it isn’t hugely nutritious. The raw fruit can be eaten by poultry and pigs, and I can’t vouch for the nutritional content but the chickens seem to love raw olives. Weird birds. They’re not harmful to ruminants either, although not necessarily beneficial, so you could keep just about any livestock under olive trees. The leftover press cake from pressing out the olive oil can also be fed to ruminants or poultry, and there are studies to show that it is actually reasonably nutritious, high in protein and energy. The tree is evergreen, and provides a lovely cool shade which still isn’t deep enough to kill grass or flowers grown under it. Trees which are big enough are eminently climbable, with smooth, greyish bark which is a delight to the climber (yes, I climb trees at any opportunity). The timber (from pruned branches of course – who would cut down an olive tree??) is a beautiful golden colour with grey-green highlights, and is good for turning. And of course, olives and oil.

 

We’re not planning on producing olives or olive oil commercially, although we could.  The recommended planting density for a commercial orchard is anywhere from 100 – 500 trees/ha, but in a dehasa style system that would be lower. Maybe around 50 trees/ha, and livestock at 1 – 4 dry sheep equivalents (DSE)/ha. We’ll produce enough for ourselves, and once the trees are mature we may produce enough for friends and family. But that doesn’t change the fact that olives are a pretty good bet for a changing climate and a world poised to head into some tough times over the next few years. They’re tough, adaptable trees, and they thrive in our soils and with the fierce Australian sunshine while producing amazing food. They’re an example for the rest of us, really.

 

* DSE is the standard measure used for livestock density in Australia. A lactating ewe with twin lambs is about 2.4 DSE, a goat is about 1.5, and a cow is about 10 DSE. The measure refers to how much pasture an animal needs to eat each day to maintain body weight and health. DSE are not used for poultry or rabbits, but are sometimes used for emus and ostriches as well as the standard cattle, sheep, goats, alpacas, etc.

 

 

 

 

mozzarella, asparagus, and pomegranates

2016/11/06 deej 0

It’s been a busy couple’ve weeks. Summer is here with a vengeance; we had our first 37 degree (Celcius) day yesterday, although it’s back to a more pleasant temperature today. I have my first sunburn of the summer, because I’m a very silly cat and failed to put sunscreen on before heading out to the Asparagus Masterclass at Edgecombe Bros in the Swan Valley on Friday.

 

Brilliant class, in spite of the sunburn. We started with a brief history of the winery and the local area, and some morning tea. Then all 16 of us tromped over to one of the asparagus patches and harvested several kg of fresh asparagus – and ate probably as much again. The gentleman facilitating the class said to eat as much as we wanted while we picked, so we snacked on freshly picked raw asparagus, which is delicious. Almost the flavour of fresh garden peas, or avocado; nutty and slightly sweet. Our harvest was lightly poached, and then BBQed with olive oil and salt while we enjoyed a wine tasting and tapas platter in the courtyard of the Edgecombe Bros cafe/winery, in the shade of flowering olive trees and grapevines. It was the perfect chilled out lazy summer afternoon. Then we gorged on BBQed asparagus with shaved parmesan, chased with muscat soaked figs in chocolate. I love the floral, fruity flavours of muscat grapes and wines, so combining that with dried fig is just.. nom. I may be in love. They sent us home full of delicious things and sunshine and wine, with a complimentary recipe pack.

 

The actual info about asparagus boils down to: asparagus is actually really easy and quick to cook. You can eat it raw, and like most vegetables where that’s the case, it should really only be lightly cooked if you’re going to cook it. If you can snap the stem easily by bending it, it’s fresh and tender, no matter what the diameter of the spear is, as younger or smaller plants produce thinner spears which are just as delicious as the thicker ones produced by bigger or more mature plants.

 

My last foodie course (I have a weakness for these things, I love learning new food things almost as much as I love learning new gardening things) was two weeks ago, at the Roleystone Family Centre. We went there to learn how to make fresh mozarella, from Megan Radaich of www.foodpreserving.org. The class was fantastic, really informative and easy to follow – and it resulted in delicious cheese. Things I didn’t realise: mozarella is a fresh cheese, like ricotta, and you can only make mozarella using non-homogenised milk. Most cheeses can be made with homogenised milk if you add calcium chloride to “fix” the proteins which are torn up by the homogenisation process, but the calcium chloride interferes with the stretching process in mozarella making, so you end up with dry, non-stretchy cheese which is a lot more like ricotta than it should be.

 

Mozarella is also the easiest cheese I’ve tried so far except ricotta. Combine milk and citric acid, heat slowly to 32 degrees C, add rennet and leave to set. Once you have fully set curds, cut the curds then heat again to 42 degrees C. Gently remove the curds from the whey with a slotted spoon, and place into a microwave proof bowl. Microwave for 30 seconds, then kinda massage lightly to get some more whey out. Repeat the microwaving and massaging step 2 – 3 times, until the cheese gets sort of shiny on the surface and stretches easily. Put it into iced salt water (10% – 20% brine) for about 15 minutes – and it’s done. Eat that day for best flavour.

 

To continue the foodie theme, I’ve been obsessed with pomegranates for the last couple’ve weeks. No food-preparation course to blame on this one; it’s mostly because of my last major assignment for my university course. The paper I wrote was about the economic feasibility of dehesa style agroforestry in WA, looking at which trees would be effective options. Turns out, pomegranates are one of the best. Highly productive, fruit within 2 – 3 years of planting from seed or cuttings, and the fruit commands a relatively high price even if sold wholesale to retailers, for the fresh fruit market or for juice. And of course you can make pomegranate mollasses from it. Pomegranate mollasses, which is actually sour-sweet rather than just sweet as you might expect from the name, is one of my more recent discoveries. I bought some on a whim, and have been adding it to things and testing it out. I highly recommend that people try it. It adds a balanced sweet-sour note to savoury dishes – a teaspoon or two in a thai curry, for example, rounds out the flavours better than anything else, almost like a fish sauce. I think what I’m saying is that it’s full of umami flavours, but it doesn’t overpower other flavours the way many umami things (garlic, mushrooms, tomatoes, fish sauce, ..) can do.

 

We’re just starting to get to the point where we can put in some long term productive crops here. The apples are going in a few per season (apple trees are expensive! especially heirloom varieties which have to be shipped over from Tasmania or NSW), so in a couple’ve years we should start getting decent apple crops. I just need to get our cider-making skill sup to scratch by then, since cider and cider vinegar are two of the products we’re planning to produce. But aside from some small scale production of fresh fruit (we’ll end up with more apricots than we can possibly eat from our three trees, for example, but it’s not going to be a major product either), we haven’t 100% settled on our production niche. I’m leaning towards dates, pomegranates, pomegranate mollasses, and balsamic style gourmet vinegars. (Oh, yes, there will be grapevines. I checked yesterday, and in the space we have allocated for them, I think we can fit 60 vines. So we might try our hand at making fortified wines as well.)

 

Anyway, that’s where we are at the moment. Everything is flowering, and the geese are starting to get their grownup feathers. The baby chicks are getting bigger every day, and the adult chickens are doing their chickeny thing. I found a blutongue lizard in the chicken coop this morning, sharing their breakfast (eating his fill while the chooks watched from the other side of the coop), so I might need to keep an eye out for him. Bluetongues are gorgeous, and I’m super glad we have a couple living near the house (they decrease the incidence of snakes), but they do eat eggs so I’ll just encourage him to keep out of the chicken coop. It’s sunny, and the breeze is blowing past the roses and bringing me rose scents, and life is pretty good.

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