Spring 2009 trip to Chestnut Farms

The moment you've all been waiting for! Cute animals!

June is Open House time at Chestnut Farms, and this time I took the two-hour drive out with my brother and my boyfriend.

We were greeted by some enthusiastic goats who would eat whatever you put in front of them. They also tolerated a bit of petting, and though I don't think they're cashmere goats, they were pretty soft.



Goat meat is new on the farm, and they are going to sell it on a trial basis this summer. It won't be part of the main share. Apparently, in talking with other CSA members, I'm not the only one excited about trying the meat.

We then waved hi to the sheep, shorn recently but still hanging out in the shade.



We wandered on down to the barn. It's remarkable how little the baby piggies are compared to the mommy pig.



They had a pen full of the piggies. What's funny about them is that every time you stepped into the pen, they went after YOUR piggies. Yep, here's a bunch of redheaded piglets chewing on my shoes.



But as cute as that is, nothing is cuter than dozens of turkey chicks singing "cheep cheep cheep!"



A closeup, to catch the chicks' eyes.



Coyotes are a major farm pest. Kim reminisced that one time she thought baby coyotes were cute, but no more! They steal the chickens and the chicks, so for survival's sake, they have to live in closed vans a little longer than they might like. Eventually they'll have their run of the land. A mob of angry turkeys is like nothing you've ever seen, so hopefully they (and their owners) can fend off a few coyotes. Still, it's a really difficult problem for farmers. That, and we spotted a few hungry hawks, sleepily circling the farm.

Here's my brother holding a chick.



They let my boyfriend check the feed level in storage.



A picture of us taken from the feed bin.



This is the brand new manure pit. I know that they've worked very hard constructing this. Apparently they had to submit to some rather extreme government regulations (the manure pit can never go below 52F, for example), and they did the concrete work by themselves. I know that they had an outside civil engineer design the pit. My understanding, as best as I can piece it together, is that there is an area where the animals are going to, um, go. They will then be able to plow that area and push all the lovely new fertilizer into the pit. Kim offered me a bucket of manure whenever I need it.



I didn't know that Chestnut Farms had a sawmill, but apparently it was an extra source of income before they became farmers full time. We had an interesting conversation with Rich about the transition and what it takes to be farmers. He said that he and Kim have different skills, and there's a big gray area in between where he dare not tread. In other words, it works. In the beginning, they both worked locally in addition to farming. Now they have to have someone on the farm all the time. Why? Well, for one, the baby piggies get stuck in the fence (kind of like babies get stuck in cribs). If Kim hears a pig squealing, she'll drop whatever she's doing and rescue the pig. But a major farm takes major work, and there's always something to do.

One thing that the farm does well is live within a budget. They have tons of equipment that they've picked up at auction. ("People come from NYC to become farmers and buy a backhoe, and then we get it for half the price after it sits unused for a year.") This is the sawmill. They've advertised that they participate in a local lumber share, supporting sustainable forestry.



As usual, it was a stunningly beautiful day. Bit of mud in the morning, but that was gone by the time we left.



They have new projects planned, as always, and I can't wait til next time! I met their eldest daughter, who is helping design an educational center. Right now the possible topics are pretty open as they gather ideas. (I didn't have time to think right then, but what I really want to do is learn to, um "process" a chicken. It's a lifelong goal I have as a meat eater.)

And here's one parting goodbye. Til the fall, when we see what's moved, changed, and grown.