In the end of 2016, we decided that our first drake, Tutulus I, had served his time. He was about 4 years old.

Runner ducks are an egg breed that doesn’t have much meat. So we have found out that the most convenient and delicious approach is to skin the breasts of the birds and extract the breast muscles. I did the same with Tutulus, only to find out that he was not suitable for consumption.

The breast muscles of the drake contained small white rice-like pieces of something, laid out in a parallel pattern. A bit of googling revealed that these were cysts of Sarcocystis using the drake as the intermediate host.

The Wikipedia article describes Sarcocystis in many species and it turns out that is quite common in sheep, goats and pigs in some regions. It remains unclear whether eating such meat would have caused any harm to us but since it didn’t look delicious we decided not to eat it.

Lõppenud 2016. aasta viimastel päevadel otsustasime, et meie esimene isane part Tutulus I on oma aja ära teeninud. Ta oli 4-aastane.

Jooksupardid on munatõug, kellel liha suurt ei ole. Seega on meil partide lihaks tegemiseks kujunenud välja selline võte, et võtame rinnalt naha maha ja eraldame rinnalihased. Tutulusega tegin samamoodi, aga selgus, et ta ei kõlba toiduks.

Tutuluse rinnalihastes olid väiksed valged riisitera kujulised moodustised, enam vähem paralleelse paigutusega. Natukese guugeldamise tulemusena sai selgeks, et tegu on sarkotsüstide ehk lihaseostega.

Eestikeelseid materjale sel teemal väga ei leia, kõige rohkem infot leidus jahindusfoorumis. Inglisekeelne Wikipedia artikkel on põhjalikum ja nagu selgub, siis lihaseostõbi on paljudel loomaliikidel. Tuleb välja, et näiteks lammastel, kitsedel ja sigadel on see parasiithaigus siin-seal suht levinud. Üldiselt jääb segaseks, et kas selliste tsüstidega täidetud liha söömisel tekib inimesel terviseprobleeme, aga isuäratav see igatahes ei paistnud ja meie poolt jäi ta söömata.

This lambing season is not exactly the first one for us, but it is the first one we arranged and planned for.

A couple of years ago we had an unexpected lambing season when some of the young ewes we had rented as grass mowers, decided to give birth in the middle of May. We managed to help one of them, but failed with another, and two others were successful independently. They had no special feeding and we had no idea we should look for visual cues of an approaching lambing.

Fast forward to last fall when we bought a ram who did his job very well, and we were expecting the lambing to start in the end of March this year. A month later we have 8 nice lambs running around and growing, but the process has been rather adventurous.

Some Numbers

Here are some basic data about our five ewes.

They are all of the Estonian White breed which is actually a combination of one or more from the set of Texel, Dorset, Dala and Norwegian White. The ram (read more here) was 1/2 LLeyn, 1/4 Arles Merino, 1/6 Gotland + misc.

We had an ultrasound scan made a bit too late so we knew they were all expecting lambs but the number of lambs in each ewe could not be determined.

As the sheep live close to our house we noticed exact dates of mating for four of the ewes. All of them started the lambing process more or less exactly on time (based on literature I used 147 days as the number for making the estimates). Also, the udders started to visually develop around two weeks prior to lambing. So this was all by-the-book.

Only the experienced ewe was independent – we helped all the first-time mothers after they had kept straining for a couple of hours.

The Ewe-Lamb Bond

The first one to give birth was the ewe called Krõõt. We had to help her a bit, but she has been a wonderful mother right from the beginning. Here is a video of her and the male lamb Tõnn on the first morning.

Mom-Climbing

All the rest of the first-time mothers were more or less troublesome but now that a month has passed, some characteristic maternal behaviour can be observed. For instance, riding on the back of Mom when she is ruminating is cool if she allows this!

Here is a photo of the ewe called K with the lamb that she accepted as her own (see below for details). She is a patient mother and we hope that next year, giving birth to twins won’t make her so confused as to rejecting the first one.

Look Mom, I Have No Anus!

The ewe called B had three lambs. We had to help the first one get out because it had its rear end in front, with knees bent. The ewe was obviously tired of the event and didn’t show any signs of interest towards the lamb. Because the lamb was losing heat due to the cold night, we gave it some colostrum powder drink and took her to our house to warm up. The next morning the guy seemed a bit bloated and kept baaing. Fortunately it occurred to us to check if the lamb had an anus. It turned out that he didn’t. The picture looked liked this:

As a result of Googling and checking some books, we decided to cull the lamb. We would have had no energy to deal with a surgery and the possible side effects, nor would this have been economically reasonable. From the literature we have read that missing anus is more common in the case of triplets and is likely to be caused by the lack of resources.

Getting used to Being a Mother

Our youngest ewe called C accepted her lamb after being constrained with him for several days. During the first days she was restrained by halters and we had to visit her regularly to help the lamb suck. As days passed she got used to the lamb and finally even starting “talking” to it as ewes do. Here is C, still staying with the lamb, but free of the halters.

Unfortunately, the ewe that had triplets (the first one was without an anus) didn’t fully accept the rest of her lambs and allows them to suck only when she is eating feed supplements (twice a day).

… or Maybe That Bucket Will Be a Better Mom?

We have one male lamb that basically doesn’t have a mother. The ewe called K is a perfect mother for one of her lambs, but completely rejected the other one and never lets it suck. In order to liberate ourselves from feeding the lamb from a bottle several times a day, we bought a bucket with nipples. After a couple of days of training, the lamb called Kaak became skilled at drinking from this bucket and can help himself independently. The bucket needs to be cleaned daily and taken inside at nights (it’s still far below freezing in the middle of April!) but it’s certainly easier than dealing with the bottle.

We also keep a bowl of starter pellets available for the lambs to eat as a supplement. Several lambs have learned to enjoy this offering.

The bucket and feeding bowl are in a so-called creep feeding area which the adult ewes cannot get into due to their size.

Sellekevadine tallehooaeg pole meie jaoks päris esimene, aga siiski esimene selline, mille me ise esile kutsusime ja mida plaanisime.

Paar aastat tagasi oli meil ootamatu tallehooaeg, kui meil osa muruniitmise eesmärgil renditud uttesid keset maid poegida otsustasid. Ühte õnnestus meil aidata, ühega jäime hätta ja kaks tükki said ise hakkama. Mingist spetsiaalsest toitmisest polnud juttugi ja me ei osanud ka visuaalsete tunnuste järgi poegimise lähenemist märgata.

Nüüd eelmisel sügisel ostsime jäära, kes sai oma tööga väga hästi hakkama, nii et märtsi lõpust alates võis oodata poegimist. Kuu aega hiljem on meil 8 kena talle, kes jooksevad ringi ja kasvavad, aga ka seiklusi on üksjagu olnud.

Natuke arve

Siin on meie viie ute kohta natuke andmeid.

Kõik meie uted on erinevates komponentide vahekordades Eesti valgepealised. Jäär (loe lähemalt siit) oli 1/2 LLeyn, 1/4 Arles Merino, 1/16 Gotland jm.

Ultraheli uuringu lasime teha natuke liiga hilja, nii et teadsime, et kõik uted on tiined, aga tallede arvu mitte.

Kuna lambad elavad meil maja lähedal, märkasime me nelja ute täpset paaritumise päeva. Kõigil algas poegimisprotsess enamvähem päeva pealt (kirjanduse põhjal kasutasime arvutustes 147 päevast tiinust). Kõigil hakkasid ka udarad nähtavalt arenema enam-vähem kaks nädalat enne poegimist. Nii et suht “õpiku järgi” kõik.

Ainus, kes sai poegimisega päris ise hakkama, oli meie kogenud utt – kõiki esmapoegijaid aitasime pärast seda, kui nad olid paar tundi pingutanud.

Ute-talle side

Esimesena poegis utt nimeg Krõõt. Teda oli natuke vaja aidata, aga ta on kohe algusest peale olnud imeline ema. Siin on video temast koos jäärtalle Tõnniga nende esimesel hommikul.

Ema seljas turnimine

Ülejäänud esmapoegijatega oli jamamist rohkem, aga nüüd kuu aega hiljem võib ka nende juures näha iseloomulikke emajooni. Näiteks on väga tore mäletseva ema seljas ronida, kui ema seda lubab.

Pildil on utt nimega K koos oma utt-tallega, kelle ta omaks võttis (vt ka allpool samal teemal). Ta tundub rahulik ema olevat ja loodetavasti järgmisel aastal kui ta peaks jälle mitmikud sünnitama, ei satu ta sellest nii segadusse, et esimese eemale tõukab.

Ema, vaata, mul pole pärakut!

Utel nimega B sündis kolm talle. Esimene tuli välja aidata, kuna tema asend oli tagumine pool ees, põlved kõveras. Utt oli raskest olukorrast selgelt kurnatud ja ei võtnud talle osas mingit seisukohta. Kuna tall kippus külma öö tõttu alajahtuma, andsime talle ternespiimapulbri lahust ja viisime ta tuppa soojenema. Järgmisel hommikul tundus tegelane kergelt punnis ja määgis. Õnneks tuli meelde uurida, kas tal ikka pärak olemas on. Ja selgus, et ei olnud. Selline pilt:

Guugeldamise ja raamatute uurimise tulemusena otsustasime tegelasele hädatapu teha, sest operatsiooni ja selle võimalike tüsistustega tegelemiseks poleks meil energiat olnud ja majanduslikult oleks see ka mõttetu olnud. Kirjanduse põhjal jääb mulje, et see päraku puudumine ongi kolmikute puhul pigem teemaks ja tingitud nö. ressursipuudusest.

Harjumine emarolliga

Meie kõige noorem utt C harjus emarolliga pärast seda, kui ta tallega mitu päeva koos kinni oli. Alguses oli ta päitsetega fikseeritud ja me käisime tal mitu korda päevas külas, et tall saaks imeda. Mõne päeva möödudes harjus ta tallega ära ja hakkas temaga isegi “rääkima” nagu uted teevad. Siin on C tallega eraldatult, aga juba ilma päitseteta:

Kahjuks see utt, kellel olid kolmikud (ja neist esimene ilma pärakuta) ei ole oma ülejäänud tallesid täiesti omaks võtnud ja laseb neil süüa ainult siis, kui ta ise täiendsööta sööb (kaks korda päevas).

… või äkki on see ämber ikkagi parem ema?

Meil on üks jäärtall, kellel põhimõtteliselt ema pole. Utt nimega K on ühele oma tallele ideaalne ema, aga teise tõukas täiesti eemale ja ei lase tal üldse süüa. Et me ei peaks mitu korda päevas käima talle pudelist söötmas, ostsime nisadega ämbri. Pärast paari päeva harjutamist hakkas tall (kelle nimi on Kaak) ämbrist ilusti jooma ja saab endaga ise hakkama. Ämbrit tuleb küll korra päevas puhastada ja ööseks tuleb ta korralike öökülmade tõttu tuppa tuua, aga parem ikka kui pidevalt pudeliga jamada.

Talledel on olemas ka söödanõu spetsiaalsete graanulitega, et nad saaksid vajadusel juurde süüa. Päris mitu lammast on sellest võimalusest kinni haaranud.

Ämber ja söödanõu on eraldi sõimes, kuhu uted sisse ei mahu.

One nice thing about butchering our sheep for meat ourselves is that we can experiment with eating all kinds of body parts that we are not used to eating. Neither of us had eaten the testicles of a lamb (or any other animal) before.

Some time ago, we saw this article about Rocky Mountain Oysters in Wikipedia. It describes an appetizer dish made of peeled, seasoned, coated and fried testicles of bull, pig or sheep.

We are lazy and we made it simpler for ourselves. Or at least we planned so.

This is what the cleaned and peeled testicles of Tõnn (a 3.5-month-old ram lamb) looked like (matchbox for scale):

Next we seasoned them with salt and pepper:

Then we grilled them in full until the outer layer turned crisp. We sprinkled some lemon juice on them.

The testicles remained half raw inside and for us there was too much of this soft mass that we are not used to, compared to the amount of seasoned crust. So we decided to cut the testicles into slices and fry them in oil. In the picture there are the slices before frying.

Unfortunately we forgot to take a picture of the result. However, when sliced and fried, the testicles were quite a nice delicacy. They had the slight taste of seafood and the texture was very soft and airy, and reminded us of scrambled eggs a bit. Because the slices had more crust in proportion, there was this perfect ratio of crusty outside layer and the soft inside. If you are interested in experimenting, be sure to try that out!

By the way, in Tallinn, one can buy testicles of ram lambs at the booth of Estonian Meat House in the market at Balti Jaam. They seemed to have quite a large variety of other lamb cuts, too.

Enda tarbeks lammaste lihaks tegemise juures on see tore asi, et saame katsetada igasuguste harjumatute elundite söömist, mida eriti poes ei kohta. Talle (ega ühegi teise looma) munandeid ei olnud me kumbki seni elus söönud.

Wikipedias jäi kunagi silma artikkel Rocky Mountain Oysters– see räägib eelroast, milleks on kooritud, maitsestatud, paneeritud ja praetud pulli, kuldi või jäära munandid.

Meie oleme laisad ja tegime lihtsamini. Vähemalt nii oli plaanis.

Sellised olid Tõnni (3.5-kuune jäärtall) munandid puhastatud ja kooritud kujul enne maitsestamist ja küpsetamist (tikutops mõõtkavaks):

Järgmiseks maitsestasime munandid soola ja pipraga:

Seejärel grillisime neid kõigepealt tervelt, kuni koorik muutus krõbedaks. Valminud munandid piserdasime sidrunimahlaga üle.

Munandid jäid seest pooltooreks ja meie jaoks oli harjumatut pilvesarnast pehmet massi liiga palju, võrreldes maitsestatud koorikuga. Seega otsustasime munandid viilutada ja õlis praadida. Fotol on viilud enne pannile minekut.

Kahjuks jäi lõpptulemus pildistamata, aga viilutatud ja praetud kujul oli tegu päris mõnusa delikatessiga. Kerge mereanni maitse ja väga pehme ja õhuline tekstuur, mis meenutas veidi munaputru. Kuna viiludel oli välispinda rohkem, siis soolast-sidrunimaitselist krõbedat koorikut ja pehmet sisu oli parajas vahekorras. Kel on huvi eksperimenteerida, proovigu julgelt!

Tallinnas saab talle mune muide osta Balti jaama turul olevast Estonian Meat House nimelisest letist ja üldse paistis seal olevat väga palju erinevaid talleliha tükke.

How does one design a garden in which ducks, sheep, fruit trees, berry bushes and vegetables must be able to co-exist?

A naive approach for an existing garden would be to build some sort of wired fencing around the beds and plants. However, such structures are not flexible or easily extendable. It’s hard to predict how much space a bush will take in 5 years, and it is quite difficult to build a new fence every year. In the picture below, we can see how sheep find different angles of approaching the bushes. In our case, the fence is connected to the generator for electric fencing, but this again makes it undesirable to let the bushes grow into the fence. And by the way, in the second half of the summer, black currants become heavy and the bushes sink lower and take more horizontal space.

The photo was taken in May this year, when the leaves had only just started growing.

The Surroundings of the Duckhouse

In addition to our ducks and sheep, our laziness has been a factor that affects the evolution of our garden. We tend to prefer spending our time and energy where the activity seems most efficient.

Our duckhouse is situated at the farthest end of the garden, surrounded by a forest from the north, and open to the sunshine from the south. Its location and the water supply available there, have resulted in an expanding garden of berries and vegetables developing around it during the past 5 years.

The vegetable garden keeps getting larger between the duckhouse and the rest of the garden as a kind of belt through which ducks still have to be able to get to the pond.

Initially, the duckhouse was surrounded by a wire fence built by the previous owner of our property, and that fenced area was simply surrounded by grass. We bought our first ducks in the spring of 2013 and also planted some young bushes and fruit trees in that summer. This fence is still there, because it enables us to keep the ducks outside in a limited area, if necessary.

In the autumn of 2013, the view towards the forest behind the pond looked like this:

Early in the next spring, the bushes were not in leaves yet and the view from the pond towards the duckhouse looked like this:

As we got our first sheep in May 2014, we had to protect the bushes and the trees planted outside the fence of the duckhouse. We used some mesh material bought from the construction store around the young apple tree (that mesh lasted only for a year in the sun), and naively enough, we built some wire fencing around the bushes.

The bedding we use for ducks (peat mixed with their manure), the plants raked from the pond and sheep manure combined, produce quite a good amount of compost. We mostly keep this in the vicinity of the duckhouse and at the far end of the separated garden of bushes and vegetables. And again, because we are lazy, we make new beds and plant new bushes as close as possible to the duckhouse, so that we wouldn’t spend too much energy on carrying the compost.

At first, we throw the bedding from the duckhouse in front of it and later we build compost piles, mixing the materials mentioned above. In the picture below, you can see young raspberry bushes and a good amount of weeds which grow really well in the compost made of the manure of ducks and sheep.

At first, I planned to use the peat used for bedding to make peat beds for cranberries and other plants that love acidic soil. However, life has shown that weeds grow extremely well in those beds as well and I really don’t feel like spending my life on picking out the weeds from between the leaves and the young branches.

Making compost seems a lot more reasonable, and so do planting berry bushes and creating new beds for vegetables. Note that the vegetables should be planted close enough to each other so that they would not allow the weeds to grow too large.

Because expanding the wire fence turned out to be cumbersome, the bush-fruit-and-vegetable garden is now isolated from sheep by regular electric fencing. It is a lot easier to move the poles and add wiring upon need.

This summer we extended this part of the garden towards the pond, we dug some rectangular beds, filled these with soil from another part of our property and topped that up with compost. Other materials of filling such as grass turf turned upside town, sheep wool, half-decomposed hay with sheep manure etc were used, too.

At the moment, the situation looks like this:

And yes, chard and spinach grow large and don’t let the nettles grow that big:

Raised Beds of Hay: Some Like Them, Some Don’t

In closing, I would like to mention an experiment with raised beds which are suggested often in the context of organic gardening and permaculture. These are raised beds of hay or straw, which haven’t worked too well for us.

In the course of winter, quite an amount of hay used as the bedding for sheep accumulates in our garden. This spring we piled the hay into raised beds, to try and grow herbs and strawberries. When you look at the site from some distance, it looks quite convincing:

In reality, the beds tended to fall apart and in addition to that, some creatures found the beds a great place for living in, and literally turned part of it upside down. Here is a picture of a planting container made of peat, which has been pushed out of the bed:

And in this picture, the reader may find one possible offender (and I don’t mean the basil plant).

In addition to frogs, the cold weather we had in the beginning of this summer, also did harm to the basil plants. Looking forward to the lessons of next year.

Kuidas kujundada aeda, kus peavad saama koos eksisteerida nii pardid, lambad kui ka puud-põõsad ja köögiviljad?

Naiivne lähenemine on olemasolevate peenarde ja taimede ümber ehitada võrktara. Paraku ei ole sellised konstruktsioonid paindlikud ega kergesti laiendatavad. Seda, kui palju mingid põõsad 5 aasta pärast ruumi võtavad, on alguses raske ennustada ja igal aastal uut tara ehitada on tülikas. Siin on näha, kuidas lambad ühtlasi põõsastele erinevate nurkade alt on võimelised lähenema. Võrk on küll ühendatud elektrikarjusega, aga sellega seoses ei ole soovitav, et põõsad sellesse lehtipidi sisse kasvaks. Mustad sõstrad vajuvad marjade raskuse all muide suve teises pooles päris palju laiali.

Foto selle aasta maikuust, mil põõsad on alles hakanud lehte minema.

Pardimaja ümbrus

Meie aeda on lisaks partidele ja lammastele kujundanud ka laiskus. Tegutsema kipume seal, kus see on kõige efektiivsem.

Pardimaja on meil põhja poolt ümbritsetud metsaga, lõunast paistab päike talle otse peale. Ühtlasi on pardimaja meie hoovi tagumises otsas ja selle ette jääb päikseküllane suur avar aia osa. Selline paigutus koos kompostihunnikute ja pardimaja veevarustusega on 5 aasta jooksul viinud tema ümber järk-järguliselt laieneva marjapõõsa- ja köögiviljaaia tekkimiseni.

Tarbeaed kujuneb pardimaja ja ülejäänud hoovi vahel sellise vööndina, kustkaudu pardid siiski ka tiigile peavad pääsema.

Algselt oli pardimaja ümber võrktara (juba eelmiste omanike ajast) ja selle ümber lihtsalt muru. Pardid võtsime 2013. aasta kevadel ja samal aastal istutasime tema lähedale ka mõned noored viljapuud ja -põõsad. Võrktara on alles siiamaani, sest see võimaldab parte vajadusel piiratul alal õues hoida.

Vaade tiigi taguse metsa suunas nägi 2013. aasta sügisel välja selline:

Järgmise aasta varakevadine vaade tiigi poolt pardimajale (põõsad on veel raagus):

Kuna 2014. aasta maikuus tekkisid meile meie esimesed lambad, siis tuli pardiaiast väljapoole istutatud puud-põõsad nende eest ära kaitsta. Noorele õunapuule panime ümber krohvimisvõrgu (mis ühe aastaga päikse käes ära lagunes), põõsaste ümber aga ehitasime naiivselt võrktara.

Partide allapanu (turvas läbisegi sõnnikuga), tiigist riisutud veetaimed ja lambasõnnik toodavad päris hea koguse komposti. Seda ladustame peamiselt pardimaja läheduses ja tarbeaia tagumises otsas. Ja jällegi, laiskuse tõttu teeme uusi peenraid ja istutame uusi põõsaid ikka võimalikult pardimaja lähedale, et kompostmulla vedamise peale liigset energiat ei kulutaks.

Allapanu viskame kõigepealt pardimaja ette, hiljem ehitame eri materjalidest segamini kompostihunnikud. Pildil on näha ka noored vaarikapõõsad ja paras kogus umbrohtu, mis pardi- ja lambasõnnikuse kompostmulla peal imehästi kasvab.

Kui alguses plaanisin allapanuturbast teha turbapeenraid jõhvikate jms happelist mulda armastavate taimede jaoks, siis elu on näidanud, et nendeski kasvab umbrohi väga jõudsalt ja roomavaid jõhvikataimi mina küll piisavalt rohida ei viitsi.

Palju mõistlikum tundub just kompostimine, marjapõõsaste kasvatamine ja järk-järguline köögiviljapeenarde rajamine, kusjuures köögiviljad tuleks siis külvata piisavalt tihedalt, et need ka umbrohtu tõrjuksid.

Kuna võrktara pidev ringitõstmine ja laiendamine osutus tülikaks, on tarbeaed nüüd lammastest eraldatud elektrikarjuse abil. Karjuseposte ja traati-nööri on palju mugavam vastavalt vajadusele ringi tõsta ja juurde tekitada.

Sel suvel laiendasime tarbeaeda tiigi suunas, kaevasime korrapärase kujuga peenrad, tõime täiteks pinnasemulda ja katsime selle kompostmullaga. Peenardesse läksid ka tagurpidi murumättad, lambavill, lagunenud sõnnikune hein jms.

Hetkel on seis selline:

Tõepoolest, lehtpeet ja spinat kasvavad võimsaks ning ei lase nõgestel niiväga löögile pääseda:

Heinapeenrad: kellele sobib, kellele mitte

Räägiks ka ühest katsest, mida maheaianduse ja permakultuuri vallas üksjagu soovitatakse, kuid mis meie puhul väga hästi toiminud pole.

Meil tekib talve jooksul korralik kogus lammaste allapanuheina, millest sai sel kevadel tehtud kõrged peenrad, et proovida maitsetaimede ja maasikate kasvatamist. Kaugelt vaadates on pilt suhteliselt usutav:

Tegelikult aga kippus peenar laiali vajuma ja lisaks leidsid seal elupaiga elukad, kes selle kohati päris pea peale kaevasid. Siin on näide turbapotist, mis on peenrast välja aetud:

Siit võib aga lugeja ühe võimaliku süüdlase üles otsida (ja ma ei pea silmas basiilikutaime).

Lisaks konnadele tegid basiilikutele liiga ka varasuvised külmad, nii et nendest sel aastal eriti asja ei saanudki. Ootame huviga järgmise aasta õppetunde.

In the beginning of October, I took part in an educational trip to the Basque Country (in both France and Spain), organized by the Estonian Association of Sheep and Goat Breeders.

I raise sheep as a hobby, so in the Basque country I saw a magnitude more of sheep (and mountains!) than what I see every day. The focus of the trip was on dairy sheep raising, but for me the aspect of their life which made me most envious, was the access to artificial insemination that is simple and works, too.

Sheep Cheese as a Commodity

The local sheep of the Latxa breed (they distinguish the types with white and dark heads) are very well adapted to the natural environment in the Basque region, and they produce an amount of milk that is both necessary and sufficient for the region. I found out that large amounts of cheese are eaten in the Basque country and not much is left over for export. The locals didn’t seem much interested in export, either. The focus is on keeping the local mountain farming way of life alive, and on carrying on the heritage. Sheep milk cheese is so common and eaten in such large amounts that one farm that we visited, has started producing goat milk cheese to be better seen on the market.

Keeping the heritage is more important to the Basque people than productivity, so that a foreign breed whose name I forgot, but who produce 3 times more milk than the local Latxa breed, are not allowed to be used for the traditional cheese.

The Latxa sheep with white heads look like this:

And here is an assortment of ones with dark heads:

It must be noted that when defining a breed, the nuances of the looks of the sheep is not the most important aspect, so there are quite different-looking types among the ones with dark heads:

There Is No Use for the Wool

Often when someone hears I raise sheep, they ask about the wool – whether I make yarn myself. When I say it takes a lot of time and is a tedious job that provides no significant income, some people are surprised.

It turns out that the problems are similar in the Basque country. In the past, it has been an important material, but there is basically no demand for it now. To get rid of the wool, it is simply burnt in valleys between the mountains. Here we can see a pile of wool in a barn, which will perhaps be burnt as well:

Well, the local Basque sheep don’t really have very soft or fine wool, after all. It felt more like the hair of some long-haired dog when I scratched them (some specimens allowed me to do it):

Artificial Insemination

Last autumn when we looked for a suitable ram for our small flock, we investigated the possibilities of artificial insemination, as well. We had read from UK and US literature that artificial insemination exists for sheep but it is a difficult procedure (involving surgery and risk), and we didn’t seem to find anyone doing it in Estonia. At that time I totally missed the point that the whole story was about using frozen sperm.

The Basque sheep raisers have the luxury of using the fresh semen of selected breeding rams. We visited an insemination station where those special selected rams lived, and whose semen must arrive inside the ewes in 8 hours for fertilization to take place. And even in that case, only 50% of the ewes get pregnant.

Thinking about our flock, this possibility would have both positive and negative sides for us. On the one hand, we wouldn’t have to buy a ram for which we don’t have enough pasture space away from the ewes, and who would have to be killed or sold soon after mating. On the other hand, getting 50% of the ewes pregnant would mean that we would need to feed one group one way and the other group another way during the winter. Thanks to the great work of LLouis, all our ewes were pregnant last winter, and it was very easy to feed them, with everybody getting the same ration. So in summary, it’s nice to know what is available to others, but with a small flock and a small piece of land, it’s very difficult to raise sheep in more than one group.

Anyway, here are some rams of the breeding station, with all the perfect traits and stuff. Because they are used to being around people, they will approach you and look for treats, too.

To add even more to the comprehensive breeding program, the organization that manages the breeding station, ARDIEKIN S.L., issues a catalog of rams each year. I don’t understand the text in the Basque language, but all the rams pose with mountains as the background, and have been nicely groomed.

The representatives of the organization said that the harvested sperm is available in the radius of a couple of hundred kilometers – this is close enough that in the 8 hours one is able to harvest the sperm, check it, transport and put it inside the ewes and still have some time buffer available. In Estonia, this kind of enviable infrastructure, considering the distances, might work in collaboration with Latvian sheep raisers, if we could find breeds that are officially bred and interesting in both countries. Maybe if the insemination station was located somewhere in the southern Estonia, there would be enough potential customers in the acceptable radius?

Stone Villages

The typical Basque village is very different from Estonian villages. While our houses are often a kilometer apart from each other (it depends on the type of village but this is the stereotype, anyway), the Basque villages have traditional houses side-by-side. The animals and fields are situated around the village and in the mountains. I was very much surprised by the fact that there is a certain minimal(!) size defined for the houses by the government (including the number of floors). The locals would like to have smaller houses but they’re not allowed to.

A typical village street looks like this:

… but the small town of Eulate reminded me of Toompea in the old town of Tallinn:

… and stone houses are often decorated with the symbol of the Basque Country, depicted here on the balconies:

As a conclusion, here is a photo of a backyard behind the stone houses, where I found a couple of sheep and a lamb. The Basque country is literally full of sheep, and the ones that are not in pastures or in barns, hide away at home in the backyard.

Osalesin oktoobri alguses Eesti Lamba- ja Kitsekasvatajate Liidu korraldatud õppereisil Baskimaale (nii Prantsusmaa kui Hispaania poolel).

Mina kasvatan lambaid hobi korras ja nägin Baskimaal lambakasvatust (ja mägesid!) hoopis teistes mastaapides kui ma neid igapäevaselt näen. Reisi põhirõhk oli piimalambakasvatusel, aga kõige kadedakstegevam aspekt sealsete lambakasvatajate tegemiste juures oli minu jaoks ilmselt lihtsa kunstliku seemendamismeetodi toimimine ja kättesaadavus.

Lambapiimajuust kui tarbekaup

Baskimaa kohalikud valge- ja tumedapealised Latxa lambad on sealsete looduslike oludega kohanenud, piirkonna tarbeks piisava ja tarviliku piimaanniga elukad. Nagu ma teada sain, siis Baskimaal süüakse massiliselt juustu ja ekspordiks midagi väga üle ei jää ning ekspordi vastu kohalikel erilist huvi ei paistnud olevat ka. Esiplaanil on kohaliku mägise maaelu elushoidmine ja pärandi edasikandmine. Lambapiimajuust on nii tavaline ja massiliselt müüdav, et turul eristumiseks oli üks meie poolt külastatud farmidest hakanud tootma hoopis kitsepiimajuustu.

Traditsiooni säilitamine on neil produktiivsusest olulisem, nii et kolm korda suurema piimaanniga tõugu, mille nime ma ei mäleta, ei võeta traditsioonilise juustu valmistamisel kuidagi kampa.

Sellised on valgepealised Latxa lambad:

Ja siin on valik tumedapealisi isendeid:

Tuleb märkida, et tõu defineerimisel ei ole välimuse nüansid neil esmatähtsad ja nii on näiteks tumedapealiste seas üsna erinevaid tüüpe:

Villaga pole midagi teha

Tihtipeale, kui keegi kuuleb, et ma lambaid kasvatan, küsitakse villa kohta. Et kas ma teen sellest ise lõnga. Kui ma ütlen, et see on ajamahukas ja tüütu töö ning ei too midagi arvestatavat sisse, siis mõni imestab.

Selgub, et Baskimaal on villaga sama häda, et kunagi oli ta oluline saadus, kuid praegu pole peaaegu mingit nõudlust. Villast lahtisaamiseks pannakse talle lihtsalt mägede vahel tuli otsa. Siin on ühes lauda nurgas kuhi, mida ilmselt samuti ootab sama saatus:

Ega see Baski kohalik lammas erilise pehme ja peene villaga hiilga ka, pigem meenutas mulle pikakarvalist koera, kui neid sügasin (mõni üksik isend lubas seda teha):

Kunstlik seemendus

Eelmisel sügisel, kui me oma väiksesse karja sobivat jäära otsisime, uurisime ka seda, kas oleks võimalik uttesid kunstlikult seemendada. USA ja UK kirjandusest olime lugenud, et kunstlik seemendus eksisteerib, aga on lammaste puhul keeruline protsess (operatsiooniga ja riskantne), ja jäi mulje, et Eestis keegi sellega ei tegele ka. Minule jäi tol ajal kahe silma vahele, et jutt käis külmutatud sperma kasutamisest.

Baskimaa lambakasvatajatel on aga kasutada selline luksus, et nad saavad oma uttesid seemendada valitud tõujäärade värske spermaga. Külastasime üht seemendusjaama, kus elutsevad spetsiaalselt valitud jäärad ning kelle värske sperma peab 8 tunni jooksul jõudma uttedeni, et viljastumine toimuks. Ja ka sel juhul on viljastumise protsent 50, ülejäänud uttesid paaritatakse füüsilise jääraga.

Kui ma nüüd mõtlen meie karja peale, siis selline võimalus tähendaks nii positiivset kui negatiivset. Ühelt poolt ei peaks me ostma jäära, kelle suveläbi pidamiseks meil pole piisavalt eraldi ruumi ja kes tuleb pärast paaritusi lihaks teha (või edasi müüa), teisalt aga tähendaks 50% tiineid uttesid seda, et tuleks osa uttesid talvel ühtmoodi ja teisi teistmoodi toita. Eelmisel sügisel viljastusid tänu LLouis’ tublile tööle kõik meie uted ja talvine toitmine oli väga mugav – kõigile ühtmoodi. Nii et kokkuvõttes tore teada, aga väikse karja ja väikse koguse hektaritega on igasugune karja mitmesse gruppi jagamine niiehknaa raske.

Aga siin on seemendusjaama tõujäärad, üks vingemate omadustega kui teine. Kuna nad on inimesega harjunud, siis nad tulevad ligi ja otsivad maiust ka.

Et asi oleks pidulik ja põhjalik, siis seemendusega tegelev organisatsioon ARDIEKIN S.L. annab igal aastal välja tõujäärade kataloogi. Baskikeelsest tekstist ma kahjuks aru ei saa, aga jäärad poseerivad kõik mägede taustal ja on kaunilt ära kammitud.

Organisatsiooni esindajad rääkisid, et nende poolt kogutud sperma viiakse asutusest paarisaja kilomeetri raadiuses laiali – see on piisavalt lühike vahemaa, et 8 tunni jooksul jõuab spermat koguda, see üle kontrollida, transportida ja ka mingi ajavaruga uttedesse sisse viia. See on kadestusväärne infrastruktuur, mis vahemaid arvestades saaks Eestis äkki toimida koostöös Läti lambakasvatajatega, eeldusel et suudetaks leida tõud, mis mõlemas riigis on tunnustatud ja huvipakkuvad. Kui seemendusjaam asuks kusagil Lõuna-Eestis, siis jääks sobivasse raadiusse äkki piisav kogus klientuuri?

Kivikülad

Tüüpiline Baskimaa küla erineb Eesti külast märkimisväärselt. Kui meil on majad üksteisest tihtipeale kilomeetri kaugusel (sõltub küla tüübist, aga stereotüüp on kindlasti pigem selline), siis seal on külades kindla nõuetekohase traditsionaalse arhitektuuriga kivimajad külg-külje kõrval ja küla ümber ning mägedes on siis loomad ja põllud. Väga üllatas tõsiasi, et majadele on ette antud kindel minimaalne(!) suurus (korruste arv sealhulgas). Kohalike sõnul tahaks nad ehitada väiksemaid elamisi, aga ei tohi.

Tüüpiline külavahe on selline:

… aga väike Eulate linn meenutas natuke Toompead Tallinna vanalinnas:

… ja kivmajasid kaunistab tihtipeale Baskimaa sümbol (siin rõduäärtel):

Lõpetuseks üks pilt ühest koduaiast kivimajade taga, kus vaatas vastu paar lammast koos tallekesega. Baskimaa on kokkuvõttes lambaid päris paksult täis, ja kes pole teede ääres karjamaadel või lautadesse toodud, on koduaias peidus.

In the summer, we made an experiment with a DIY anti-mating apron.

With a small flock, one may have the need to keep a ram in the flock together with the ewes at the time when the latter start coming into estrus – but you don’t want mating to take place or you would like to plan it for a later time. We had such a need this summer, when we felt we wanted to raise our young rams to become about 6 months old, so we could perhaps sell them. Because the boys turned quite active at the age of 3 months, and because ewes can come into estrus already in the end of June, we decided to give an anti-mating apron a try.

When you search Google for “anti-mating apron for sheep”, the first results will be those from a US store called House of Bacchus Pet Supplies. They offer aprons of various sizes and colors for both rams and bucks. Also, they have a photo that displays a guy wearing an apron, in action:

Source of image: The Bacchus Johnson Shield

I couldn’t find any aprons with a reasonable price and shipping fee in any online stores, though. For example, Bacchus send their aprons to Estonia via ebay.co.uk, but the shipping costs would add 30 euros to the price of the apron which is about 25 euros. A shipping fee so high is quite uncommon for such small goods. Assuming we could get about 80 euros for a half-year-old crossbreed lamb, such an expense would be pointless.

So one day, it ocurred to me that a milkman’s apron, a couple of which we once bought from Scandagra, and which we both use when butchering animals, would be a great piece of raw material for an anti-mating apron. It is made of a water-repellent material and it has a neck strap with a quick-release buckle.

Here we can see an apron like this while still in its package. I was ready to make experiments for this amount of money.

The most risky aspect about the whole thing seemed the fact that I don’t have a decent sewing machine or any really strong thread. I made the seams by hand and hoped for the best. First, the apron was worn by Tõnn, our first born lamb, whom we tried to sell when he was 3 months old, and after that it was worn by Punnsilm, whom we also tried to sell at the age of about 3-4 months.

The classifieds for selling the ram lambs led to exactly one phone call. Because Punnsilm had the apron on, in the picture in the ad, the caller asked me where I had got the apron from! Well, it’s nice to share information but we failed to sell the lambs. We butchered Tõnn, and Punnsilm with two other ram lambs was castrated – now we’re not in a hurry with getting them butchered.

One problem was that the apron didn’t really last while the rams were wearing it. First, my manual seams broke down in a week, and after a couple of weeks, the industrially sewn seams of the strap broke down too. I tried to fix these with thread and glue, but with no great results.

This is what those industrial seams looked like before breaking down:

… and after having been fixed, viewed from the other side:

We had issues with hygiene, too. Although the material is water repellent, the apron started stinking like urine in a couple of days.

So the question is, would we have been happier with the aprons sold in the US, and do those last longer? Also, what are the optimal dimensions for an apron so that it would not be too close to the ground, but would nevertheless cover the rams’ genitals at the most critical moments?

Suvel tegime katse isetehtud paaritumisvastase põllega.

Väikses karjas võib tekkida vajadus hoida mõnd nooremat või vanemat jäära karjas koos uttedega ajal, mil viimastel algab innaaeg, aga paaritumist ei soovi või tahaks edasi lükata. Meil tekkis selline vajadus sel suvel seoses oma noorte jääradega, keda oleks tahtnud kasvatada u. poole aastaseks, et neid siis äkki müüa õnnestuks. Kuna poisid muutusid kolmekuuselt suht aktiivseks ja uttedel võib pärast jaanipäeva juba innaaeg alata, siis tekkis mõte katsetada põlle.

Kui Google’ist otsida “anti-mating apron for sheep”, siis tuleb esimeseks vastuseks USA pood nimega House of Bacchus Pet Supplies, kes pakub mitmes mõõdus ja värvis põllesid nii jääradele kui sikkudele. Ühtlasi on neil saidil ka pildimaterjali, mis näitab põllekandjat tegevuses:

Pildi allikas: The Bacchus Johnson Shield

Ühtegi mõistliku hinna ja postikuluga põlle ma ühestki netipoest ei leidnud. Näiteks seesama Bacchus saadab küll ebay.co.uk kaudu põllesid Eestisse, aga põlle hinnale, mis on 25 euro ringis, lisanduks pea 30 eurot postikulu (see on nii väikese kauba puhul suht ebatavaliselt suur summa, aga nii on). Arvestades, et pooleaastase ristandtalle eest saaks võib-olla 80 eurot, on selline kulutus mõttetu.

Ühel päeval jõudis mulle kohale, et Scandagrast ostetud lüpsja põll, mida me mehega kasutame loomade lihaks tegemisel, on suurepärane toormaterjal isetehtud jäärapõlle jaoks, kuna see on vetthülgavast vakstu moodi kangast ja tal on kaela ümber panemiseks klambriga rihm.

Siin on näha põlle pakend koos hinnaga. Selle raha eest olin ma valmis eksperimenteerima.

Kõige riskantsem aspekt asja juures tundus korraliku õmblusmasina ja väga tugeva niidi puudumine. Õmblused tegin käsitsi ja lootsin parimat. Põlle kandis kõigepealt meie esimene tall Tõnn, keda me 3-kuusena müüa üritasime, seejärel Punnsilm, keda samuti 3-4 kuusena müüa üritasime.

Müügikuulutuse peale Kuldses Börsis tuli täpselt üks kõne. Kuna Punnsilm poseeris ka kuulutusel põllega, siis helistaja küsis, et kust ma jäärale põlle sain! Tore muidugi infot jagada, aga jäärast me lahti ei saanud. Tõnni tegime lihaks ja Punnsilm koos kahe teise noore poisiga läks kastreerimisele – nüüd on lihaks tegemisega aega.

Häda oli muuhulgas selles, et põll ei tahtnud lamba seljas kuigi kaua vastu pidada. Kui alguses lagunesid u. nädalaga minu tehtud õmblused, siis paari nädalaga lagunesid ära ka kaelapaela tööstuslikud õmblused. Püüdsin neid nii niidi kui liimiga parandada, aga suht asjatult.

Siin on näha kaelapeala kinnituskoht enne lagunemist

… ja pärast lagunemist ja parandamist teiselt poolt.

Hügieeniga oli ka probleeme – kuigi vakstu hülgab vedelikke, siis korraliku kusehaisu võttis põll paari päevaga külge.

Huvitav küsimus on kokkuvõttes, et kas USA-s spetsiaalselt toodetud põllega oleks midagi läinud teisiti, kas see peab kauem vastu? Ja mis on põlle optimaalsed mõõtmed, et see liiga maadligi ei ulatuks, aga jäära suguelundid kriitilisel hetkel ära kataks?

We originally started keeping sheep mainly because we didn’t want to deal with mowing our inner yard, which is rather large (1 hectare). While that part of the plan has been a success, we are now starting to have the opposite problem.

The once lush grass has become weak because of the long-term stress of constant grazing, and moss is taking over:

Here we can see how pieces of grass have been rooted out by sheep. We assume this is because grass roots have become weak.

We think that in general, the reason for this process is too much continuous grazing and a relatively wet climate.

So how can we turn this process around? In commercial sheep farming, a rather common approach is to plough the pasture every 5 years or so, and often it’s combined with reseeding. That measure seems to be a bit extreme for our yard though.

In our case, it’s probably the easiest to admit that the “10 sheep per 1 hectare” rule of thumb might be a bit too much for our specific case. Our sheep have had almost year-round access to all of the grazing area, so the grass hasn’t had any time to recover. We’ll have to reduce this long term stress and make the environment less moss-friendly.

These are the solutions that we will try out:

• one by one, we’ll create new pastures outside our 1-hectar yard area (for which we can use a couple of extra hectares at maximum), and we’ll try and practice rotational grazing
• we’ll limit the size of our flock – we won’t breed our ewes this autumn and for next summer, we’ll keep 7 to 8 ewes, aged 1 to 5 years
• during the winter, we’ll take the ashes from our wood stove and lay it on some of the spots with lots of moss, and we’ll see if the grass grows faster on these spots next spring. I found out about this method thanks to a forum post which is here
• We’ll try aeration in the spring.

Here I have just spread a bucket of ashes on the grass:

Because the amount of ashes we produce is very small, it is more like a proof-of-concept experiment. We’ll see.

Meie lambapidamine sai kunagi alguse sellest, et me ei tahtnud tegelda oma hektarisuuruse õueala niitmisega. See plaan on osutunud väga edukaks, aga nüüd hakkab meil tekkima vastupidine probleem.

Rammus õuemuru on jäänud nõrgaks ja hakanud päris korralikult sammalduma. Mitmed õuemuru lapid näevad välja sellised:

Siin on näha see, kuidas muru on lammaste poolt juurtpidi välja kistud. Arvame, et juured on nõrgemaks muutunud.

Üldiseks põhjuseks on ilmselt liiga suur ja pidev karjatamiskoormus ning niiske kliima.

Kuidas sammaldumist tagasi pöörata? Kommertslambakasvatuses on tavaline praktika künda karjamaa iga 5 aasta tagant läbi ja tihtipeale külvatakse ka uus seeme. Meil oleks selline abinõu veidi ekstreemne.

Meil on esiteks ilmselt mõistlik endile kõigepealt tunnistada, et kusagilt kuuldud rusikareegel “10 lammast hektari kohta” on meie puhul liiga optimistlik. Meie lambad on mitu aastat pea aastaringi kogu õuealal saanud rohtu süüa ja murul pole olnud aega end koguda. Peame rohukamaralt sellise pideva stressi eemaldama ja keskkonna samblale ebasoodsamaks muutma.

Siin on lahendused, mida kõigepealt katsetame:

• tekitame väljaspoole oma hektarisuurust õueala jõudumööda uusi karjamaid (selleks on kasutada maksimaalselt paar lisa hektarit) ja üritame praktiseerida vahelduvat karjatamist (rotatsiooni), eesti keeles olen kuulnud ka sõna “portsjonkarjatamine”
• piirame karja suurust – sel sügisel me uttesid ei paarita, suveks jääb meile alles 7-8 lammast vanuses 1-5 aastat
• talve jooksul viime puupliidi alt kogutud tuhka sammaldunud lappidele ja jälgime, kas rohi kasvab neil lappidel kevadel võimsam. Sellist meetodit soovitati ühes foorumis siin
• kevadel katsetame muru arereerimist.

Siin olen just ühe pliiditäie tuhka laiali laotanud:

Kuna meil tekkiva tuha kogus on väga väike, siis on tegu pigem põhimõttelise katsega “sportlikust” huvist. Näis siis.

Many of you will know that ducks love water a lot – they may endlessly play in the water, be the body of water a large pond, a small bath or a drinking bowl in the duckhouse. Water activates sex drive in ducks, too, and having sex in or near water and washing themselves after the act, are natural parts of their sex lives.

One thing is to love playing in water, but water is plain necessary for ducks, too, to wash their beaks and eyes. Alongside other advice typically given to beginner duck raisers, is the suggestion to keep available a bucket of water where ducks could plunge their heads.

From the standpoint of hygiene, the housing conditions of animals and birds should be kept clean and dry, so that a moist and dirty environment wouldn’t encourage all kinds of diseases to develop and spread. In addition, we would like the eggs laid by birds to be suitable for consumption without having to be washed – to keep their shelf-life to the standard.

A Contrast between Hygiene and Pleasure

In the following picture, a dutiful duck-keeper has cleaned up the duckhouse. The trays around the water bowl have been washed, so has the water bowl, and there is a clean layer of peat on the floor for bedding.

Now let’s look at how ducks typically play with fresh drinking water (the video was filmed in early spring, so the low angle of the sun spoils the quality of the video).

Clearly what we see here is pure pleasure, far from the basic needs to clean oneself or have a drink with one’s feed. In general I like to provide my birds and animals with conditions they enjoy, and our automated water supply helps with this, but …

Twice Less Water, Five Times Less Work

In the autumn of the year that just ended, I thought about the topic and realized I would have to draw a line somewhere, because cleaning the duckhouse is quite inconvenient in the winter. We do have year-round water supply in the duckhouse theoretically, which helps us wash the trays using a hose, but with heavy frosts this might not work. At the same time, our ducks stay inside the house a lot and they produce a lot of manure. And of course they spill lots of water on top of all this at every opportunity, and then they dig around in the mud pit they have created. What hygiene!

I decided to configure the automated water supply so that the drinking bowl of the ducks would be filled with fresh water only in the evenings, a little before I typically go and feed them. I hoped that if I skipped providing fresh water in the mornings, the birds would be calmer and there would be a lot less of water mixed with peat, to carry out. Let them live without water for half a day – their basic needs have been fulfilled!

The result is surprisingly good. During the times when the drinking bowl was filled twice a day, the situation looked as depicted in the following picture, by each evening. Now, the situation becomes close to this by the 5th day but if I add dry peat on the floor each day, the peat manages to suck in the water.

Once the amount of water on the trays is small enough so that the peat sucks it in, it’s quite convenient to throw it out of the duckhouse with a suitable shovel.

On the other hand, if the amount of water is so large it fills the whole tray, you will need some sort of a pump to get rid of it, or you will have to carry the filled tray out of the house, typically spilling half of the water back on the floor.

Mud Out!

I will finish this post with a cool analogy. There is a philosophy called lean farming, the followers of which aim to approach small-scale farming in a way that would increase productivity, profits and effectiveness while constantly trying to throw out “trash” from the process, trash meaning all the unnecessary activities. All of that trash is called “muda” in Japanese (the theory originates in Toyota car industry, Japan), and in Estonian, “muda” is the word for “mud”. In the context of this post, we are dealing with removing “muda” both directly as well as by that theory. By optimizing the procedure of providing our ducks with water, I removed lots of “muda” from the process that involves throwing out a lot of mud!

Pardid armastavad teatavasti tohutult vett – nad võivad lõpmatuseni vees mängida, olgu siis veekoguks suur tiik või väike vann või jooginõu toas. Vesi kutsub partides esile ka sugutungi ja suguelu juurde kuulub neil jällegi kas vees või siis selle läheduses viibimine ja enda pesemine.

Olgu meeldimisega kuidas on, silmade ja ninasõõrmete pesuks on vesi partidele füsioloogiliselt hädavajalik ja algajale pardikasvatajatele antavate nõuannete seas on tüüpiliselt soovitus tagada, et pardid saaksid oma päid täies ulatuses vette kasta.

Hügieeni seisukohast jällegi tuleks loomade ja lindude elutingimused hoida puhtad ja kuivad, et niiske ja sõnnikune keskkond ei soodustaks haiguste teket ja levikut ja et näiteks lindude munetud munad oleks inimesele tarbimiskõlbulikud ilma pesemata – nii ei kannata nende säilivus.

Kontrast hügieeni ja nautlemise vahel

Siin on tubli pardikasvataja pardimaja parasjagu korda teinud – veenõu ümber olevad alused on puhtaks pestud, veenõu ise ka, põrandal on puhas kiht allapanuturvast.

Ja nüüd vaatame, kuidas pardid tüüpiliselt puhta joogiveega ümber käivad (filmitud varakevadel, mistõttu madal päike rikub video kvaliteeti).

Selgelt on siin tegu nautimisega ja asi on kaugel esmavajadusest end puhastada ja toidu kõrvale vett juua. Üldiselt pakun ma hea meelega lindudele ja loomadele nautimisväärseid tingimusi ja veeautomaatika aitab sellele kaasa, aga …

Kaks korda vähem vett, viis korda vähem tööd

Lõppenud aasta sügisel mõtlesin asja üle järele ja tõdesin, et kuhugi pean ma tõmbama piiri, sest talvehooajal on linnumaja puhastamine suhteliselt tülikas. Meil on küll teoreetiliselt pardimajas olemas talvine veevarustus, mis hõlbustab ka aluste pesemist voolikuga, aga kõvade külmadega ei pruugi see toimida. Samas viibivad pardid palju majas sees ja sinna tekib märkimisväärne kogus väljaheiteid. Kõige selle peale viskavad nad muidugi igal võimalusel värsket vett ja siis lödistavad tekkinud mudas. Hügieen missugune!

Otsustasin, et seadistan pardimaja automaatika nii, et värske vesi tuleb jooginõusse ainult õhtuti natuke enne seda, kui ma partidele süüa toon. Lootus oli, et kui ma jätan ära hommikuse nõu täitmise, siis on linnud rahulikumad ja turbasegust vett on alustelt ning põrandalt vaja palju vähem välja tassida. Las elavad pool päeva ilma veeta, põhivajadused on ju täidetud!

Tulemus on üllatavalt hea. Kui kaks korda päevas vee lisamisega oli igaks õhtuks pilt selline nagu allolevalt pildilt näha, siis nüüd muutub olukord selliseks pigem viie päeva jooksul ja kui iga päev põrandale natuke turvast lisada, siis sellist veevälja ei tekigi.

Kui laialivisatud vett on piisavalt vähe, et seda saab lasta turbasse imenduda, on seda tegelikult suhteliselt mugav pardimajast välja visata, vaja on lihtsalt sobivat kühvlit.

Kui aga alustel vesi lainetab, tuleb kasutada mingit reoveepumpa või siis tõsta veega täidetud aluseid majast välja, mille käigus pool vett enamasti põrandale loksub.

Muda välja!

Lõpetuseks üks lahe paralleel. Eksisteerib mõtteviis nimega lean farming, mille järgi üritatakse väikepõllumajandusele läheneda nii, et pidevalt toimuks areng parema tootlikkuse, kasumlikkuse ja efektiivsuse suunas ning pidevalt tegeldakse tootmisprotsessist “prügi” ehk ebavajaliku väljaviskamisega. Seda ebavajalikku nimetatakse jaapani keeles “muda” (teooria ise on pärit Jaapanist Toyota autotööstusest). Siin postituses räägitu puhul on tegu muda eemaldamisega nii otseses mõttes kui ka tolle teooria kontekstis – partidele joogivee pakkumise “optimeerimisega” sain ma muda väljaviskamise protsessist korraliku koguse “muda” vähemaks!

How do you provide your sheep with comfortable conditions and when is the weather nice for bicycle traveling when the seasons are becoming quite unpredictable? This post was inspired by the bad situation of the wool of our sheep that I discovered today, and in my mind it somehow connected with long distance bike travellers experiencing unpredictable weather.

A Southern European Guy “Imprisoned by Snow”

From time to time, we have guests through the Warmshowers portal. These guests are long-distance bicycle travelers. One of them, Paolo from Italy, stayed for a couple of nights last year in the middle of May, as he wasn’t really prepared for snow. For Estonians, this picture doesn’t really look like “imprisoned by snow”, it was more like a bit of some white-colored precipitation in the morning which was gone by the evening. But we weren’t travelling by bike anyway.

Photo by Paolo, https://www.facebook.com/polaroundtheworld/

One Brazilian guy who visited us during his journey, quit his foot hike on the RMK path after a couple of days, because of snow in the middle of May.

Our lambs were born in the end of March last year and we had planned the births so that the cold and snow would be generally gone. However, in the end of April, the lambs could experience snow and temperatures below zero.

Last week, I received a message from a guy from Australia in Warmshowers. He asked when the weather would be nice for a bike trip in our region. What can I say? If you are OK with the cold and the snow in late spring, you will do fine, but if you are used to a warmer climate, don’t hope for stable warmth before June? When I say “warm” I mean “above zero Celsius at daytime” .-) We have had nights below zero Celsius on Midsummer Day lately.

We spent our last two New Year’s Eves in the hot tub near the pond while it was above or around zero Celsius outside. But it has been cold and snowy in October.

When Your Least Friendly Sheep Comes for a Scratch, Your Flock Has a Skin Problem!

Back to sheep. Our sheep live outside year-round and we usually shear them in April or May, depending on our possibilities and skills. They are used to close contact with us and they are very friendly.

Now, why does a sheep really come for a scratch? Is it because she is a great friend? When we have had problems with mites in the summer, I have noticed that even those ewes that are not too friendly, approach the owner and let themselves be scratched well. Unfortunately in this way, the owner becomes the one that transmits the parasites from sheep to sheep, because all of them want to be scratched at the same time!

In the winter, the sheep have nice woollen coats. On the surface and to an untrained eye, nothing is wrong:

The lambs grew nice coats for themselves by the end of the year:

But what is going on under the coat, when rain and snow have been taking turns since autumn, when it has turned cold and warm again, continuously, until it got properly cold (below -10 Celsius) in the middle of Feburary?

The bacteria are thriving, and as a result, the wool near the skin is moist and decaying; the environment is damp and ugly. Half of our sheep have patches like this on their backs, if you separate the wool on the back a bit:

The wool can be picked off easily and looks like this:

If you look at the sheep from above, you will see nothing. You will have to push the wool to the sides a bit:

Based on literature, the bacteria are called Dermatophilus congolensis, and the condition is also called rain scald in English. And, surprise, surprise, some sources say that if you have had the mite called Psoroptes ovis around, the condition can occur with a greater probability. That’s because the skin has been damaged already (Source: The Sheep Keeper’s Veterinary Handbook). Also see the Wikipedia article.

So When Should One Shear the Sheep in a Changing Climate? And Is a Friendly Sheep a Happy Sheep?

Thinking about hugging and scratching sheep as a great way of passing on parasites, the question arises, whether making friends with sheep really is good for them. Yes for sure, spending time with sheep and touching them has a therapeutic effect on the owner…

And when should we shear the sheep, to provide them with maximum well being?

We could shear them in September, but if the temperature drops to -10 Celsius in October and it’s snowy and windy for some time, the sheep will be cold. They will need more food, and suddenly. You should change the feeding pattern gradually but in our experience, the cold comes suddenly in October. And goes away just as suddenly.

We could shear in April, but if the ewes have lambs and the weather turns cold suddenly, the ewes will have to get more energy from their food and they may fail to feed the lambs well enough. And again, changes in the feeding patterns of sheep should be made gradually.

At the same time, an early wave of hot weather may come in May, and if the sheep haven’t been shorn, they will feel uncomfortable.

It’s clear that from June til the end of summer we don’t want to shear our sheep because cuts and wounds can start to rot, and these will also attract flies.

It’s also clear that in its present condition, the wool of our sheep is not suitable for use, and neither is the sheepskin of any value. Or how about this excellent piece?

I will leave this post somewhat open-ended. With our small amount of sheep, the time of shearing doesn’t really matter, we’ll shear them in April and keep an eye on them. But I guess it’s quite a challenge for large flocks, to get used to the changing climate with lots of precipitation. Hereby I can say that the presentation (in Estonian only) held by Ann-Mari Anupõld last autumn in Toosikannu, hit the nail on the head quite a bit.

At the same time, I suggest that hobby farmers and the providers of animal therapy with farm animals, should seriously ask themselves, who is really the one that contributes most to the transmission of parasites in a humid and changing climate?

Kuidas tagada lammastele mugav olemine ja millal on hea rattaga matkata, kui aastaajad tahavad pea peale minna? Mind ajendas seda postitust kirjutama tänane avastus, et kui viletsas seisus on meie lammaste kasukad, aga ühtlasi tekkis peas seos pikamaa-rattamatkajatega, kes on kimpus raskesti ennustatava ilmaga.

Lõunaeurooplane “lumevangis”

Võõrustame aeg-ajalt läbi Warmshowersi nimelise keskkonna pikamaa-rattamatkajaid. Nendest üks, itaallane Paolo oli meie juures eelmisel aastal mai keskpaigas ja pidi jääma paariks ööks lumevangi, sest ta polnud arvestanud sellega, et mai keskel võiks siinkandis lumi maha tulla. Eestlase jaoks ei näe pilt just lumevangi moodi välja, pigem sadas hommikul maha natuke valget ollust, mis õhtuks ära sulas. Aga meie polnud ka parasjagu rattamatkal.

Foto: Paolo, https://www.facebook.com/polaroundtheworld/

Üks rattaga meid külastanud Brasiilia noormees lõpetas mais lumesaju tõttu paari päeva järel oma jalgsimatka mööda RMK matkateed.

Talled sündisid meil eelmisel kevadel märtsi lõpus ja olid planeeritud nii, et suurem külm ja lumi oleks möödas. Aprilli lõpus aga nägid talled ka lumiseid olusid ja miinuskraade.

Hiljuti sain Warmshowersi kaudu kirja ühelt austraallaselt, kes küsis, et millal siinkandis ilm rattamatkaks sobilikuks muutub. Mida sa oskad kosta? Kellele sobib hiliskevadine külm ja lumi, saab igatahes hakkama, aga kes on harjunud soojema kliimaga, ärgu enne juunit stabiilset sooja lootku? Sooja all pean silmas, et päeval on plussis .-) Jaanipäevadel on öökülmi viimasel ajal olnud küll.

Uue aasta oleme kahel viimasel aastal võtnud vastu kümblustünnis plusskraadidega või nulli juures, aga oktoobris on olnud külm ja lumine.

Kui su kõige umbuslikum lammas tahab sügamist, on karjas nahaprobleem!

Nüüd tagasi lammaste juurde. Meie lambad elavad aastaringi õues ja püganud oleme neid seni aprillis-mais, vastavalt võimalustele ja oskustele. Nad on harjunud meiega pidevalt lähedalt kokku puutuma ja on väga sõbralikud.

Aga kas lammas ikka tahab seepärast sügamist, et ta on suur sõber? Kui meil suviti on olnud häda sügelistega, olen märganud, et muidu mitte väga sõbralikud lambad lasevad ennast omanikel mõnuga sügada. Ja paraku muutub omanik seeläbi parasiitide edasikandjaks lambalt lambale, sest sügada tahavad ju kõik korraga!

Talvel on lambad kenad villased. Pealtnäha ja võhiklikule silmale pole häda midagi:

Talled kasvatasid aastavahetuseks kenad kasukad selga:

Aga mis toimub kasuka all, kui sügisest saati on vaheldumisi sadanud lund ja vihma, läinud külmaks ja jälle sulanud ja nii pidevalt, kuni veebruari keskpaigas saabus paari nädala pikkune korralikum pakane?

Toimub aktiivne bakterite elutegevus, mistõttu vill naha lähedal kopitab ja laguneb; keskkond on soe ja niiske ja kole. Pooltel meie lammaste selgadel on sellised laigud, kui seljapealne vill natuke lahku tõmmata:

Vill tuleb kitkudes lihtsasti lahti ja on krussis:

Lambale niisama peale vaadates midagi ei näe, kogu värk on korralikult peidus, vill tuleb keskelt eemale tõmmata:

Kirjanduse põhjal on tegu bakteriga nimega Dermatophilus congolensis, inglise keeles nimetatakse seisundit ka rain scald. Ja oo üllatust, meil varem probleemiks olnud sügelise Psoroptes ovis olemasolu soodustab mõne allika väitel ka talvise häda esiletulekut, kuna nahk on juba kahjustunud (Allikaks The Sheep Keeper’s Veterinary Handbook). Vt ka Wikipedia artiklit.

Millal siis muutlikus kliimas pügada? Kas sõbralik lammas on õnnelik lammas?

Mõeldes lammaste sügamise-kallistamise kui väga hea parasiitide edasikandmise mooduse peale, tekib küsimus, et kas lammastega sõbrustamine ikka teeb neile head. Omanikule mõjub lambaga suhtlemine kahtlemata teraapiliselt…

Ja millal siis pügada, et lammaste heaolu maksimaalselt tagada?

Pügaks septembris, aga kui oktoobris tuleb pikemalt -10 kraadi ja lumi ja tuul, hakkab lammastel õues külm ja toiduvajadus suureneb järsult. Toidumuutused tuleb teha järkjärgult, aga elu näitab, et sügisene külm tuleb pigem järsku. Ja kaob sama järsku.

Pügaks aprilli lõpus, aga kui lammastel on talled ja ilm läheb järsku külmaks, peab utt endale toidust järsku rohkem energiat hankima ja ei pruugi tallele piisavalt piima anda. Ja jällegi, toidumuutused tuleb ju teha järk-järgult.

Sama hästi võib mais juba tulla mõni varajane kuumalaine ja pügamata lambal on siis ju ebamugav.

Selge on, et juunist kuni suve lõpuni väga pügada ei taha, sest sisselõiked võivad minna mädanema ja meelitavad ligi ka igatsugu kärbseid.

Selge on ka see, et meie praeguses seisukorras villaga pole ilmselt midagi peale hakata ja lambanahaks selline selg ka ei sobi. No palun, kes soovib?

Selle postituse lõpp jääb veidi lahtiseks, sest meil paari lambaga pole vahet, eks pügame aprillis ära ja hoiame silma peal, aga suurtel karjadel on muutliku ja sajuse kliimaga kohanemine ilmselt korralik väljakutse. Siinkohal tuleb tõdeda, et Ann-Mari Anupõllu ettekanne sügisel Toosikannul oli väga asjakohane.

Ühtlasi tasub hobikarjadel ja ka loomateraapiat pakkuvatel kasvatajatel niiskes-muutlikus kliimas mõelda tõsiselt selle peale, et kes konkreetses olukorras see põhiline parasiitide edasikandja ikka on.

NOTE: This post contains photos of a duck embryo after 2/3 of the incubation period. If such photos may be disturbing to you, please don’t read this post!

I discovered recently that the incubator company Brinsea has issued a book in 2002, called Nests, Birds and Incubators, which seemed interesting enough to buy it. I read the chapters on nests, laying and natural incubation. The contents were very interesting but to be honest, I didn’t get a very good idea of what the inside of a developing egg actually feels like.

Now, a couple of days ago, nature and a bit of my own curiosity brought to me something that was like a true-to-life illustration of the book.

A Crack in the Shell of a Duck Egg

At the beginning of April I set 12 duck eggs to my incubator. I candled them on day 8. To my great satisfaction, all the eggs turned out to be fertile – I guess it’s the first time it’s so. But one of the eggs seemed to have a very small crack in the shell, of which I took a note. I left the egg in the incubator though, because I wasn’t sure if the crack was on the surface only or deeper. Also, it seemed like an interesting experiment.

I candled the eggs again on day 18. It turned out that the crack had become a lot larger and a sunken cracked area had formed around it.

The situation looked quite hopleless from the point of view of the embryo’s development – I though the evaporation would be too intense for example – so I decided to remove the egg from the incubator. And to satisfy my own curiosity, I decided to open and explore it.

Sticky Substance and a Tiny Fetus

My first impression of the inside of the duck egg that had been developing for almost 3 weeks, was that the substance inside the egg was suprisingly sticky. I don’t know if it’s always the case or it was sticky because of the cracks and some sort of rotting process. I couldn’t smell anything.

When still packed, the inside of the egg looks like this:

First I extracted the so-called air sac in the upper part of the egg. The increasing of its size is an important parameter that is observed during incubation. Once a bird begins to hatch, it first breaks into the air sac using its beak, then it rests for a day or two and then it starts to gradually break the outer shell as a result of its biological processes. In the egg I examined, the air sac looked like a slimy bag.

Next, I could behold a complex network of vessels which can also be seen when candling eggs that are incubating, starting from about day 7, and as long as the developing substance is still somewhat transparent.

After some further unknitting, the yolk spilled out. Shortly before hatching, the fully developed embryo withdraws the yolk into its body and uses it as a reserve of nutrients and energy.

And finally I was able to pick out the embryo itself. It had a very large head when compared to the rest of its body!

During the dissection, the heart of the embryo kept beating (but surprisingly seldom, about once a couple of seconds). To calm the reader, I will say right away that I quickly ended the life of the embryo after having taken the pictures. I have no idea what an embryo that has been developing for 18 days, feels, remembers, or understands.

In summary, this was a quite rare chance to learn to know nature in a situation where something had gone wrong, but almost by chance, and hopefully no pain was caused.

NB! See postitus sisaldab fotosid 2/3 inkubatsiooniperioodini arenenud pardilootest. Keda sellised fotod häirida võivad, need palun ärgu seda postitust lugegu!

Avastasin hiljuti, et inkubaatoritootja Brinsea on aastal 2002 andnud välja raamatu Nests, Birds and Incubators, mis tundus piisavalt huvitav, et see endale osta. Lugesin läbi lindude pesitsemist, munemist ja haudumist käsitlevad peatükid. Oli väga huvitav, aga ega päris head füüsilist ettekujutust areneva muna sisemusest ei saanud.

Nüüd aga paar päeva tagasi mängisid loodus ja mu enda katsetamishuvi mulle kätte justkui selle raamatu tõetruu illustratsiooni.

Pragu pardimunas

Panin aprilli alguses 12 pardimuna inkubeeruma ja vaatlesin neid läbivalgustamise teel umbes 8. päeval. Minu rõõmuks olid kõik munad viljastatud – vist esimest korda nii hästi. Aga ühel munal tundus koores olevat imeväike pragu, mille olemasolu ma üles märkisin. Jätsin muna siiski inkubaatorisse, sest polnud kindel, kas pragu on pindmine või sügavam. Tundus huvitav eksperiment ka.

Uuesti vaatasin mune umbes 18. päeval. Selgus, et pragu oli üksjagu suuremaks muutunud ja selle ümber oli moodustunud pragunev lohk.

Selline vaatepilt tundus loote arenemise seisukohalt suhteliselt lootusetu – kasvõi aurustumine on ilmselt liiga intensiivne – nii et otsustasin muna inkubaatorist ära võtta. Ja enda uudishimu rahuldamiseks ka ära lahata.

Kleepuv ollus ja imepisike loode

Esimene mulje pea 3 nädalat arenenud pardimuna sisemusest oli, et sealne ollus on üllatavalt kleepuv. Ega nüüd ei teagi arvata, kas ta kleepubki või kleepus ta seoses praoga ja mingi roiskumise protsessiga. Mingisugust lõhna ma ei tundnud.

Kokkupakituna on muna sisemus selline:

Kõigepealt eraldasin muna ülaosas oleva n-ö õhukoti, mille suurenemine on teatavasti inkubeerimise jälgimisel üks oluline parameeter. Kooruma hakkav lind murrab endale nokaga tee kõigepealt just õhukotti, puhkab seejärel ööpäeva-kaks ja siis hakkab bioloogiliste protsesside tulemusel muna koort katki toksima. Minu lahatud munas oli see õhukott üks paras limakott.

Edasi võis imetleda keerukat veresoonte võrgustikku, mis on näha ka inkubaatoris olevate munade läbivalgustamisel alates umbes 7. päevast senikaua, kuni arenev mass veel läbi paistab.

Mõningase harutamise järel eraldus munakollane, mille loode juhul kui ta lõpuni areneb, vahetult enne kooruma asumist endasse tõmbab ja mida kasutab toitainete reservina:

Ja lõpuks sain kätte ka loote enda. Väga suur pea tema üldise suuruse kohta!

Lahkamise hetkel loote süda veel tuksus (aga üllatavalt aeglaselt, paari sekundi tagant) ja kõigi lugejate rahustamiseks ütlen ka ära, et tegin peale pildistamist lootele kohe kiiresti otsa peale. Mul ei ole õrna aimugi, mida tunneb, mäletab, teadvustab 18 päeva munas arenenud loode.

Tegu oli kokkuvõttes suhteliselt haruldase võimalusega õppida tundma loodust olukorras, kus miski läks valesti, kuid poolkogemata ja loodetavasti valutult.