Thursday, August 10, 2017

The Family Cemetery: How Not to Get Buried Under the Rules and Regs


View of our proposed family cemetery site
at the south west end of our property

View from within the cemetery area
looking back towards our Grain Bin House
located behind the trees .

All we want to do is dig a hole, and lay down for eternity. That's not so much to ask, is it? Apparently, it is. Last October we started exploring the possibility of permanently hosting our interested family members who'd like to chill out here when their tickers give out, and now ten months later, it's still a work in progress.

I started the effort by calling our county coroner who said he could find nothing to preclude a family cemetery in our county, but still, he referred me to the county zoning board. I did extensive internet research which stated that requirements such as  embalming, concrete vaults or metal caskets were not state or federally mandated but rather requirements of specific cemeteries only.

This was good since we want our bodies to naturally decompose on our property in nothing more than a wood box.

We also spoke with a local funeral home director to get his input, and ask about the less savory details like, "if we die in another state, how can we get our bodies back to The Poor Farm?" The answer: you have to hire a licensed funeral home to do that, hauling us back in the bed of the Ford F-150 is not allowed.

I wanted to ask if it'd be allowed as long as someone tied red warning flags to our toes, but I restrained myself.

It took awhile to get a response from our county zoning administrator, I'm assuming he had other bigger building projects to worry about, but in April we received an "Application for Special Use", which we completed.

In July we were notified that we would need to attend two meetings. The first was the County Regional Planning Commission, held on July 31, and the second was the County Zoning Board of Appeals held last week, August 3rd. All of our neighbors were notified of these meetings in the event they wanted to come for more information or to register their concerns.

Since our property is 1.5 miles from the nearest town, over a half mile from the nearest neighbor, and  surrounded  on all sides by planted fields, I did not expect any neighbor resistance. I was wrong.

Enter the relative of a land owner who lives a mile from us. She arrived at the first meeting and after everyone on the committee was brought up to speed on our wishes, she proceeded to read off a long litany of concerns. Such as:

     Who was initially responsible for the property since we are not married?
          
     Who would care for the property after we died?
           
      Did I know it was a Class 3 Felony to disturb headstones if say we sold the property.?
             
     What type of roadway would we build to access the area?
              
     Did our mortgage lender approve?

     Did I know how it would affect property values?

Her last comment, I believe, was the crux of the matter. She was concerned about resale value of land around us.

When she had her say, the Regional Planning Commission voted unanimously in our favor. However, three days later at the County Zoning Board of Appeals, it went a bit differently. Some of the members of the second committee also sat on the first committee, but some were new. Since it was an official public hearing I was sworn in and allowed to give an overview of our plans again, but this time I focused on the fact that in Illinois, Family Cemeteries are exempt from the rules and regulations that govern the public licensed cemeteries. Specifically the Cemetery Care Act 760 ILCS 100/ and The Cemetery Care Oversight Act of 2009.

Thus, the majority of the concerns voiced by our neighbors relative, were moot points. She did attend this second meeting and she did speak again, but after hearing about our exempt status, she backed off the regulatory issues and focused on property values, tax assessments etc. When it came time for the committee to vote, the ones who were not at the first meeting had all new concerns such as:

     Will there be an easement to allow your descendants access to the property if it is ever sold?

     How will you keep track of where the bodies are buried and how deep?

     How can we get proof that you are exempt?

     Can you move the boundaries farther into your property?

In the end they wanted me to answer the concerns above in writing and present to them again in November. These four conditions are easily addressed and I have faith it will all be approved at that time. My overall impression of the mild resistance so far is this: as a whole we are a death denying society and we prefer to deal with death at a distance. This "distance" is provided by a licensed professional, i.e. a funeral home director and the entire process is greatly sanitized at a very great financial price.

The average person does not want to see the backhoe dig the grave, nor do they want to build their own coffin. (I'm lining the lid of mine with Supertramp Posters and Hemingway quotes and OH YES, the amazing art work of Matt Kish in his book Moby-Dick in Pictures) Nor do they want to think about what happens, natural decomposition wise, to our bodies made of mere flesh and bone. To take control, as much as any human can control anything, of ones own burial on ones own property is foreign thinking in the 21st Century even though family cemeteries existed here, and in other countries, for centuries upon centuries.

I believe about half of the committee felt we were barbarians, while the other half wished they had their own family cemetery. The county admitted that they had never dealt with the issue before and in fact did not even know it was possible to do so. Sad isn't it? One hundred years ago family cemeteries were the norm, and now they are looked upon suspiciously.

So, we move forward with our plans for the O'Shaughnessy-Parrish Family Cemetery. I've warned our interested family members that until November they should drive the speed limit, avoid high crime areas, and limit their intake of McDonalds Happy Meals.

Monday, August 7, 2017

Bones of the Barn are Up!


We've had decent weather lately, not horribly hot, which gave us great conditions to get barn work done. We borrowed a post hole digger, industrial type, from some friends and when attached to our tractors PTO, it did a fine job. Our soil is heavy in clay here which proved difficult for digging at times, but good for packing around the posts. That soil type will likely harden around the posts as well as it we used concrete.



Our granddaughter Allana was here one day when we put in the very first post, thus you get the rare photograph of this blog's author. Unlikely you'll see another for awhile, I prefer to be behind the camera.

The work was slow at first as Keith would hook a post to our tractor with a chain, then guided me verbally to the correct spot where I'd lower the post in the hole, then hop off the tractor (hop? Not hardly) then help him with leveling, securing with 2 x 4's, and so on.








As I got better with my tractor skills the process picked up speed. When our son Jason came out to help the last two weekends, things went even faster.



It took ten days but we got all the posts in for the four external walls and the one interior wall. In the midst of it, the county dropped by to check progress. (He actually dropped by to take pictures of our proposed family cemetery site, but seeing our barn work he decided to kill two birds with one pack of regulatory paperwork.)
Yesterday we made the Menards trip to order the new trusses and pro-rib steel for the roof, thus completely emptying out the last of the money in our "Barn Fund" envelope. Those items will arrive in a couple weeks and be directly delivered to the farm. Inside walls and loft floor, shelving for Keith's workshop, as well as livestock stall walls, will all be built with repurposed material we have on hand, or will remove from the old decrepit house as we dismantle it.

If you look closely you'll see the barn posts are an eclectic collection of posts from the 60 year old machine shed we had torn down, brand new posts we bought at Menards (we only had to buy two) and several shorter round posts given to us by my sister Teresa after they sold their house and dismantled that pasture fence.

Next up, we'll apply the skirt boards and purloins from post to post, plus angle braces at end posts. This will give us the structure needed to attach the outside walls using all the recycled steel from the building we purchased for this project.

Keith and Fanny below take a well deserved break.


In other news: we're making great progress on our plans for a family cemetery, we're crazy busy putting up garden produce, the broilers for next years chicken suppers are growing fast and we're making adjustments to the Looney Bins foundation insulation in preparation for the upcoming winter.

 I'll blog about it soon. Promise.


Thursday, July 27, 2017

Scary Night Shift Findings



I don't always sleep well. Too many years as a night nurse. First as a floor nurse working 11pm -7 am, then as a hospice nurse who took call and got awakened in the middle of night for needed home visits, and then again as staff nurse who was home all week and worked 12 hr nights on the weekends.

My circadian rhythm never did recover. Here on The Poor Farm, I generally sleep better than in the decades prior. This is especially true in the summer as I am physically busy a good part of the day but, every few weeks, I find myself pulling an all nighter again.

Last night was one of those nights. Worried about the new barn build, an upcoming car repair bill, the issue of rebuilding parts of our rocket mass stove before winter etc. etc. I found myself wide awake at 0300. Remembering I had forgotten to lock our chickens in their coop the evening before, I ventured outside and ran smack into this other night shift worker.


Building a huge web between the old icky house on our property and the cow's milking shed, this big fellow looked even better in the light of my cell phone torch. Even blinded by my light, and later by the flash of my cell phone camera, he didn't slow his work at all.


I like spiders, but my daughter-in-law Tab hates them, so please don't tell her about this post!

Sunday, July 16, 2017

Breaking Ground on the New Barn


The new barn will sit approximately where the
big white dog is strolling
Finally, we broke ground yesterday and four post holes were dug for the new barn. We are thrilled. Rain, work schedules, sorting through all the broken pieces of the barn and the search for a hefty post hole digger (THANK YOU Mare and John!) delayed the start of our biggest project on the Poor Farm. But, we're on our way.

After taking count of the good and bad pieces we estimate we have enough good material to build the walls of a 40 by 51 foot barn. Due to the destruction of the roof steel and trusses, when the building was dismantled, we'll be purchasing all of those components.

The county inspector came out last week and gave us the thumbs up on the size and location of the new structure. Keith then leveled out the north side of the building site and deposited the soil around our little well house, which has needed fill since it was revised last year. He also scooped up the area where our three steer had their winter shelter, and deposited that well rotted manure and straw, into our compost bin. Three birds, one stone.





We then measured and re-measured and measured again,  the location of all the posts, marking them with flags.


Attaching the post hole digger to our Kubota tractor took some time and a phone call to the fellow loaning it to us, but once attached, it worked like a huge metal charm on the end of a PTO shaft.









Until we hit brick.
I'm telling you, the people who owned this farm before us loved to bury garbage here, there, and everywhere. Fortunately it was only six bricks and...a fork.




Apparently they also liked to have picnics at their dump sites.

Monday, July 10, 2017

Yes Virginia, Hogs Do Eat Grass

Image result for hogs on pasture white huts

In the late 60's when my father took us out and about in our green Chevy Van, a drive in the country meant livestock. We saw cows, sheep, horses, chickens (which is just annoying because they are always crossing the road for no good reason) and pigs; we saw lots of pigs. Black, white, red and any combination thereof dotted the countryside. Within their pastures little huts made of metal or wood.

Today, hogs in the US have virtually disappeared from the landscape; they've gone undercover, hidden away in long metal buildings with concrete slats under their feet and cesspools of their own waste under the concrete slats. These concentrated animal feed operations or CAFO's (often pronounced "Kay-fo" are most commonly known as factory farms.

Image result for CAFO for hogsImage result for CAFO for hogs

They are efficient, take up less space, and use fewer employees. Food and water is automated, temperatures are controlled year round and natural predators are barred by steel roofs, walls and doors. The administration of regular low-dose antibiotics is commonplace, and yet every year millions of piglets die from one bacterial infection or another because their immune systems never develop. Why?

Because they have been taken off the land, off the earth, off the dirt and grass and pastures that make for a happy, healthy and YUMMY tasting hog. The yummy part relates right back to the healthy part. Hogs raised in confinement, where they are not exposed to sunshine and must reside for months, years if they are breeding sows, over the noxious fumes of their own urine and manure, in overcrowded conditions makes for one unhappy animal. Studies have proven the extreme aggressiveness of these creatures living in such inhumane conditions. I'd be pretty ticked myself.

If you don't believe me, buy some CAFO pork chops at the grocery store, (98% of all pork in the US is raised that way) then buy some chops from a local farmer who raises his hogs on pasture. Prepare them the same, invite some friends over and do a taste test. Chances are you'll find it difficult to buy CAFO raised pork again.

Recently we moved our hogs off the smaller pasture they've had since they were 8 weeks old, onto a much bigger pasture they share with three steers. The combination of these two species on one pasture benefits everyone. Cows like to eat the tops of the grasses. Hogs will eat the lower grass stems and then dig up roots looking for grubs and mice.























Cows leave wet piles of manure pies and pigs root through them, spread them around and thus distribute nutrients to the soil. Cows eat the leaves off the lower tree branches while hogs will plow up the earth, loosening it for seed planting this fall and next spring. Both the steers and the hogs are social animals and it's not unusual for one to play with the other; tag is a favorite game as well as hide and go seek. No one cares for Jeopardy or Russian  Roulette.



In another ten weeks or so the hogs will be big enough to go to the locker. We'll have wonderful pork for our freezer and sell the extra, providing us with a little extra income. Next spring we'll buy more Red Wattle piglets and do it all over again.

Tuesday, July 4, 2017

So Long Mucca the Milk Cow



Our primary milk producing cow has been for the last year, a lovely bovine named Liz. We brought her up from our old farm last July. Her companion for some time was a heifer (young cow who has never calved) named Mucca.

Mucca is simply Italian for cow. Una bella mucca!



Several months ago she became impregnated by our bull (God rest his soul, he died very suddenly shortly after the encounter. Insert rude jokes here) . She calved and consequently began to produce milk. It took a few days for her to catch on to us stealing milk from her, it's a loud machine, but she learned her new job well and for the last two months we've had an abundance of milk.



But, we knew this could not last as we did not need that much milk, and feeding two cows was not in our feed budget, plus Liz produces enough to sustain us and Mucca's calf who was separated from her mother weeks ago. It wasn't an easy decision since both cows are gentle, healthy and good producers. I  left it mostly up to Keith says he milks more than I do.  He's the dairy guy whereas I specialize in the bacon side of our tiny operation.

I do like our Red Wattle pigs.

He finally decided to sell Mucca as we've owned Liz much longer and feel especially loyal to her. In addition Mucca's calf is female and if we need to replace Liz in a couple years (she is nearly 8) we'll have a ready replacement. If Liz stays strong and healthy, Mucca's calf gets in line at the locker.

So Mucca was listed on Craigs list and the local Facebook pages.  Within a couple days a gentleman with nine children came to see her. He liked her. He bought her and off she went to her new home but not without a few shenanigans.

While loading her into  the livestock trailer she suddenly decided it would be easier to eat the hay placed in there for her,  in the prone position.




No, she did not fall or slip and she certainly wasn't pushed. She just decided to rest while eating. Gives all new meaning to the phrase, "You Lazy Cow!"

Eventually she righted herself , with Keith's help, and arrived at her destination. Her new family fell in love with her and reports she is doing well.

Sunday, July 2, 2017

Mow is Me

This is an old title. I've used it before on my previous blog, The Midlife Farmwife courtesy of my friend Stacey who tired of my complaining all the time about the mowing I used to have to do on our Chatsworth farm.

It was about four acres. Twice a week in May and June and once a week thereafter.

We owned a large zero turn mower, a couple of weed wackers and one or two push mowers at any given time. I mowed around the big farmhouse, up and down both lanes which were 1/4 mile each, all about the farm store, the machine shed and on and on ad nauseum. Grass was carelessly tossed about the yard since we had nearly fifty acres for our livestock to graze. We mowed to keep up appearances. I shamefully admit it.

Not anymore. Thank heaven. The stress of our  farm and barn always looking its best,was nerve wearing, especially on Keith since I was the one harping on him to clean up, put away, organize. I still harp but he's better at ignoring me. And without the organic inspectors, milk inspectors and daily customers making visits, the need to clean and organize is purely my own problem.

Mowing on The Poor Farm is very different. We own one one small push mower. The primary area we care about is a small rectangle, about twenty foot by fifty foot, where we have our fire pit and outside seating just outside the grain bin. When we mow it we ALWAYS use the mower's bagger and the grass is fed to the horse, the cows, the steers. whoever is closest or neediest at that moment.



Outside of our immediate outdoor lounge area, are other regions we mow periodically , again for livestock feed value or merely to control weeds, Overall though, our tolerance for weeds here is about as high as they are.  Rather than constantly fighting nature we have learned to work with it. High grasses, weeds, and wildflowers  benefit us because it increases the pollen for our bees, offers shade and hiding places (from hawks) for our poultry, grants living space to beneficial insects and saves on mower gas and homesteader energies.

This limited mowing also gives bull snakes a nice place to hide. These snakes are farmers friends as they do an excellent job of consuming rats or mice but when I come across one unexpectedly, I still jump.

Our poultry keep the extra bugs: ticks, flies, spiders, mosquitoes, in check.  Not that we don't have those insects, it's just not a big problem, at least not for us. Visiting relatives might scoff. The additional wildlife, with the exception of the rabbits, we do enjoy. We have a large variety of birds here we never saw (or heard) on our old farm.



We do from time to time, use our push mower to tackle weeds in our four vegetable gardens. With weeds cut short, we can  easily mulch with old hay/straw.  I'll do just a garden specific post soon.

Back to mowing. In addition to the occasional push mowing we also allow the horse to graze about our main work areas. We just string a few faux hot wires across areas we don't want her in and she free ranges between  buildings, and up and down the driveway. She does an excellent job of eating-exactly what she wants-and then leaving us to mow down her rejected greens, but still, it provides food for her and limits our mowing energies.

Area to left of drive usually grazed by "Free Range" horse, but sometimes we mow it
to provide feed for her on days we keep her in her lot.


When Ennis is out of her penned area, she roams past us working in a garden or visits the calf in her hutch. She's very social. She also deposits all her deposits alongside our outhouse, not randomly across the yard. it's just one more reason I love her.

If we are mowing something we know isn't good for the livestock, like weeds mixed with partially decayed bark mulch for example, it is used to mulch plants in the garden.

True, we do work in circles it seems, but this way no good grass is wasted, thus saving on feed bills and providing needed exercise to this homesteader. I hate seeing all the ditches mowed around our county and the grass just left to rot, when it could be baled and fed to local livestock. Below on left is the ditch in front of our property and on the right is the ditch in front of the neighbors field, directly across the road from us.



Because of our miserly ways with mowing, The Poor Farm isn't as pretty and tidy as our old farm, but every day it is more sustainable and who ever said self sufficiency had to be pretty?

Damn. I think I did.

Sunday, June 25, 2017

Half a Barn is Better Than No Barn


The damage has been calculated and the guy we paid to tear down an old machine shed, has been compensated. He delivered about half a barn, after all the damage he did tearing it down, and so he was paid half ($1500) of what we had originally agreed ($3000).

Last week when he came by to have this final discussion, he still insisted that the five destroyed trusses, and all the bent metal roofing pieces could be repaired by us. When we pointed out the extensive damage, he then offered to SELL US more trusses he had in stock. No way you crazy old hoot you.

If he wasn't elderly and probably a bit loose in the synapses, we would've escorted him off our property with a boot or two. But, he was, so we didn't, and besides that part of the barn saga is over. We are moving on.

Unloading the last pile of roof pieces came on a hot day but I had the easy job of just moving the tractor around while Keith pushed pieces onto the tractor forks.








Then I would transport them to their assigned pile. The burn pile, the possibly can save pile and the this piece doesn't look too bad pile were the options. Here is a short clip of Keith pushing the bigger pieces off the trailer. He's on the tractor this time. I'm just the chick behind the cell phone.


Nevermind. I apparently don't know how to load videos yet. But if you click on that photo it gets REAL BIG. How cool is that?

Keith has since been going through each post, each 2 x 4, each truss, each piece of metal siding and recording how much usable material is left. The original machine shed before deconstruction measured 42 by 45 foot. We are hopeful what remains will be at least half that. The remaining half we will buy in new materials. But since new costs so much more than used, our barn will likely shrink in size.

We might use all the recycled materials to build the animal portion of the barn and add newer materials for the shop and storage portions. Or we'll use all the recycled materials for the barn walls and buy new for the roof. It's going to take a couple more days to develop a new plan.

The good news is, the county has given us our permit to build the barn and once we have nailed down the size and the exact site, we will call them so they can do their "pre-construction" inspection. Then there will be the "during- construction" inspection, the "post-construction" inspection and the occasional "we-were-just-in-the-neighborhood-and-dropped-by-to-annoy-you" inspection.

Monday, June 19, 2017

Clouds in My Coffee

Image result for carley simon and james taylor wedding picture





For years, when Carly Simon sang her song, "You're so Vain" I thought she was saying grounds in my coffee. That makes sense, right?  And I'd  sing it loudly that way, even though my sister Mary tried repeatedly to correct me, telling me it was clouds in my coffee. Turns out little sis was right.

Oh, you had me several years ago
When I was still naive
Well, you said that we made such a pretty pair
And that you would never leave
But you gave away the things you loved
And one of them was me
I had some dreams, they were clouds in my coffee
Clouds in my coffee, ...


Now, every time I see storm clouds in the sky, I hear this song, and my sister laughing at me. Which brings me to today's post about weather.  (You knew I'd get to the point eventually. Thanks for hanging in there.)

Weather. We are obsessed with it here. In fact, it is usually the first and last thing Keith and I talk to each other about each day. Even before I look out the window, I'll ask him what the forecast is. he'll tell me of rain predictions, heat indexes etc...We'll scoff at Accuweather, they are often wrong, but still our entire day is planned around the sky.

If it's going to get hot, we'll plan our outdoor projects for the morning hours and try to hide inside from the heat,  especially during the more brutal afternoons like we had last week. There we will do budgeting or bill paying, wash a dish or three.

If it's cool but dry, we skip all the indoor work and get as busy as we can outside. Right now we're focused on gardens and barn building.

If it's going to rain, we hustle to get livestock chores done, as pulling around hoses, carrying hay, slopping hogs, is  not so much fun in the mud and neither of us is keen about getting jolted by lightening.

Seems like we spend 80% of our day just looking at the sky. Like this afternoon when I was due to pick up a now thirteen year old granddaughter to take out for a birthday dinner. (It tugs at my heart that she is so old.) I checked the radar which hinted upcoming storms would go south, but the clouds said it was coming right at me.





So, do I try to get evening chores done early, while the world was still dry and be late picking up my GK? Or do I do them later and chance having to feed animals in the rain or hail or tornado or volcano?  Seriously, look at those clouds!  I decided later, I hate rushing through chores anyway.

On the way, a brief 12 mile trip, I noted deluges of rain hitting south of me. I loved how it was dropping in big bands.





On the way home the clouds were north. When I got back to The Poor Farm about 8:30, a lovely rainbow and enough light to get my work done. Not a drop of rain.



Really? What was I worried about?



And once again, Happy 13th birthday to our GK Allana Marie. Five years old on the left checking my face for I don't know what, and her again last week checking out new baby ducks. We do so love her!