The Offspring

So the babies are pretty much at their most adorable stage right now. Fluffy, hoppy, spazzy, nibbly, and adorable. For the most part, people in my life have been very accepting of the fact that I am raising these beasties for meat. I was very nervous about telling my next-door neighbor, for instance, because she had emphatically declared herself to be "such an animal lover" when I spoke to her a couple of weeks ago.

Fortunately (or unfortunately...), the kids told her for me. In their not-so-tactful, abrupt, darling, childlike way. (Gentry, my neighbor, rushing out of her house squealing about the baby bunnies I'm holding)...

Gentry: "Ooooohhhh baby bunnies!!! THEY'RE SO CUUUUTE!! Are you going to keep them?"

Me, hesitantly: "Yeesssss..."

Gentry: "*gasp* Oh my gosh look at that one, it's so adorable! Can I hold one?? So you're going to keep all of them?"

Neighbor Kid (who has already got over the shock of being informed by MY kids that we eat rabbits) breaks in gleefully: "She's going to EAT them!"

As it turns out, Gentry used to have pigs and actually ate them. So she was very understanding. "Well, you've got to eat", she said. And also, "It's just the same as cows, really." I was very relieved, and sort of wanted to hug her round the neck for that.

The next-door-neighbor girl's best friend (around 11 years old, give or take), on the other hand...was not so keen.

(Horrified pre-teen girl glares at me while speaking in an outraged and exaggerated baby-voice): "WHAT?? WHY would you EAT cute fwuffy widdaw bunnies?!? That's MEAN and horrible and cruel!!"

Me: "Why do you eat a chicken?"

Her, tossing her head scornfully: "WELL I don't raise those, I don't care about them!"

...And in one sentence, I think she summed up nicely one of the main problems with the food industry...

I did make sure to emphasize (kindly, but firmly!), that I am not cruel. I am very particular about the way my rabbits are raised, and you can be sure that they have the absolute best life, and also the best death, that I can possibly give them.

But, since they are only three weeks old, we won't think about their eventual fate right now. Here are some adorable pictures to take your mind off it!

Cordelia's litter:

Nib

(As in, Cacao Nib! 99% sure this one is a Buck)

 

Treacle

Last I checked, she looked female, but that could change, lol.

 

Pudding

Completely unsure of this one's sex. Also, I keep getting it mixed up with its sibling:

 

Trifle! Or is it Pudding?

It's so hard to tell.

Dollop!

Or Dolly. She looks just like her mama.

 

Sugar Plump.

Pretty sure this one is male. Ezekiel says "Sugar Plump" every time I say "Sugar Plum", so Plump it is. LOL

 

My big boy Blackstrap!

The only way to tell the difference between him and Treacle is size. He's a big fatty. Treacle is more dainty. Well, and I think they're different sexes. Maybe.

Finally, this is Yorkshire Curd Tart.

Or just Curd. Not sure on sex.

 

 

Winifred's litter:

 

My sweet girl, Seven of Nine.

She's so pretty!

 

Cobbler

I originally thought he was a girl, but...now I'm thinking...maybe not.

 

Luigi!

I couldn't help it...he has such a perfect moustache.

 

And here's Mario.

:P

 

Mister Lardycake.

Still pretty cute for a white rabbit!

 

And here's Fritter. She didn't much care for being picked up.

The females seem to be much less chilled out than the males.

I love her markings, though. Even if she's a spaz!

 

Last but not least...

Turbinado.

He's actually Cordelia's runt, but I moved him over to Winifred so that he'd have a chance at getting more milk with less effort. ;) He's still super tiny compared to everybody else, but he's still charging around acting normal, so I'm hopeful for him!

 

 

 

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BABIES!!!

At least 7...

 

sweet, fat, warm, wiggly...

 

 

perfect, nekkid, squirmy...

 

 

cute-ugly little bitty kits!!!

 

(they'll be cute-cute once they grow fur...promise)

 

So proud of my beautiful, clever, wonderful first time mama who did EVERYTHING right! ^_^

 

 

Nesting

Ms. Cordelia is prepping early! Hope this is a good sign. Either way, it's adorable.

Twoo Wuv

Breeding Notes 3/18/2015

AM

Broderick + Winifred = 3 fall-offs. 1st fall-off Winifred peed immediately afterward. Weird? Normal? She definitely lifted for the next 2, he made sure of that. When I put her back in her cage she ran to sit in the corner and made soft little grunting/whimpering noises. Weird? Normal? Should I feel bad? Wait, don't answer that.

Broderick + Cordelia = 2 fall-offs. Cordelia also mounted 2x. She was very excitable and didn't seem to object to his attentions at first. After 2 fall-offs, Broderick gave himself a thorough grooming, during which time Cordelia flattened herself onto the floor and held super still. Once he got done and started to go for it again (maybe 5 minute break total), she started growling and punching at him. She was hastily removed.


PM

Broderick + Cordelia = MAYBE one fall-off. She was really NOT keen to have another go and was removed speedily.

Broderick + Winifred = Again, doe was not so keen for another go-round. She mounted him for a while but I suspect it was purely to keep him off of her, not so much eagerness to breed. She got mean/grouchy after 1 fall-off and was removed to her own abode.

In other news, I'm getting better at handling rabbits in general. It sounds silly to say that I was afraid of them before, but...it did make me nervous, having to pick them up. They can be scratchy little buggers. If you're not nervous it is SO much easier!

For those who are not offended by blatant bunny porn, I took some video of Winifred and Broderick the second time. It makes me giggle.

Trauma Drama

Rabbits are Drama Queens. Bucks included. I clipped their nails today, and you'd think I was trying to chop off their legs with the way their panicked little eyes were bulging out of their heads. Sheesh. It went pretty well regardless, so I was well pleased! Only had one little bitty nick on Broderick's right hind nail...I would do a *test* pressure with the clippers before I actually cut the nail off, and it's a good thing too because just the test found the vein on one of his. >_< Turns out all of the nails on his hind feet were pretty well worn down already.

Which is good, because he wasn't keen on me touching him anymore at that point.

I've decided that upon the closer-than-usual inspection I was able to get of the girls today, Winifred is the better rabbit. I'll be bold and say that I THINK she will turn out to be the better breeder/mother/producer. She's bigger, calmer, and generally happier than her sister. BUT...she might be slightly fat. So there's that.

Cordelia appears to be narrower, and has always had the less agreeable temper. She is nervous and aggressive when it comes to her food or personal space. I noticed today that her hind end seems narrower than her sister's (but again, this could be the *ahem* fatty issue Winifred may or may not be having...obviously I'm making very uneducated guesses here), and her back feet are kind of narrow too and she has this weird thing where she tucks her bottom under and I have a heck of a time finding her back feet at all.

BY THE WAY MY CAT JUST TOOK A SHIT BEHIND ME AND THE STENCH SEEMS TO BE BURNING MY EYEBALLS OUT AND I MIGHT DIE SOON.

Not sure why I got a cat. I freaking hate having a box of poop inside my house. Yuckyuckyuckyuckyuck.

Moving on...

Tomorrow I get to breed the bunnies! Broderick has made it through 4 weeks of quarantine and has no problems that I can see. WOOHOO! EXCITEMENT OVER HERE! YEAH!!

That is all. I have to escape the cat-reek now and go make dinner (**gag**).

Broderick

Things are getting serious now, y'all. I've added an actual real live fluffy bunny BUCK to my rabbit operation. Which is now officially an "operation" because it can now officially operate (i.e. make baby bunnies).

Later this month he'll be introduced to his new girlfriends (YAYYY BABY BUNNIES!!!), but for the time being I'm keeping an eye on his health and attitude and whatnot, and just letting him get used to his new environment. Lately, when I go out to give him food and water, I'll put one hand on his face and one hand on his rump until he holds still (hands are not his favorite), and then I'll pet him and croon at him and tell him what a handsome wonderful bunny daddy he is. Then I'll take my hands off and give him his food, at which point he is very relieved.

THIS morning...when I opened his hutch he came over to me and stood up, and when I bent down to talk to him he put his fluffy whiskery nose up to mine and snuffled me before I even gave him anything. Then he bounced away and clicked his fluffy heels together in a totally adorable dancing-bunny-spasm.

I have not decided whether this was an expression of utmost joy that I had arrived and he really truly loves me; or if, upon touching me, he was overcome with repulsion and was trying to shake my person-juices off of himself.

Either way, it was freaking adorable.

Welcome to the rabbitry, Broderick! We are SO excited that you are here!

 

 

 



Kevin



Life and Death. Life is generally preferred. Death...well, we don't want to think about it mostly. Yet in order to sustain my own life, I must take life. To put it a less palatable way; I must bring death. It's interesting to think about.

About a week ago, I ended the lives of two living, breathing, flapping, quacking ducks. For someone who had never before killed anything larger than a very large squash bug, or perhaps a very large carrot, this was dramatically different. The sheer force, and the solidity of will that it took to end the life of a warm blooded creature, was immense. Once you begin, you end. There is no faltering. No hesitation. No backing out.

I like to think they didn't mind me bringing about their demise. They had a good life, and a swift end, intended for a good purpose. It's not such a bad way to go, really. I have seen many a good okra plant glory and rejoice, even at the ending of their days. They did what they were meant to do. Lived as they should. Died well.

I named the ducks Harold and Kevin. Because I think everybody deserves a name. Even the ducks that were only in my possession in living form for about fifteen minutes. Kevin will be our Thanksgiving dinner this coming Sunday, and I'm very hopeful that he will be extremely delicious. I found this recipe, and I think it just might do him justice! I am grateful for the life he gave; the life I took for myself and my children.

I'm not as grateful for the 8,437,652 feathers that are currently strewn around my back stoop.

Even so. It was a good experience. A bit grisly. A bit gruesome. But the duck's death connected me to life in a way I never knew before. It was warm, heavy, bloody, and real. It wasn't Nintendo's "Duck Hunt", with a virtual bird dog giggling at me when I missed the shot. It wasn't a cute little boneless, skinless package at the grocery store. It was a duck. And then it was a duck without a head. And soon it will be dinner.

I'm going to uproot and mercilessly dismember all of the carrots from my garden and put them through the pressure canner pretty soon. Hopefully I can do a post on that! Sorry for the lack of updates, it's been busy!



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Small Things

 

Just a little friend I found, that gave me joy.

 

 

 

Hearer of prayer, to Thee all flesh cometh.

Matters of iniquities were mightier than I, Our transgressions -- Thou dost cover them.

O the happiness of [him whom] Thou choosest, And drawest near, he inhabiteth Thy courts, We are satisfied with the goodness of Thy house, Thy holy temple.

By fearful things in righteousness Thou answerest us, O God of our salvation, The confidence of all far off ends of earth and sea.

Establishing mountains by His power, He hath been girded with might,

Restraining the noise of seas, the noise of their billows, And the multitude of the peoples.

And the inhabitants of the uttermost parts From Thy signs are afraid, The outgoings of morning and evening Thou causest to sing.

Fat fatty fats

I love fat. I don't want to BE fat, of course. Who does? Fortunately, thus far, I have found that consuming copious amounts of good, pure animal fats has done very little to increase my waistband.

Lack of exercise, on the other hand.....ahem. But that's a different story. ;P

I love eating fats. They make me feel more...solid. Strong, but on the inside. I've always been a bit, shall we say...wispy. "Petite", they used to call me as a child. I'm about the size of a small 12 year old, given the fact that I kind of stopped growing when I was 12. In two of my pregnancies I have struggled to gain and keep weight on, and now that I am breastfeeding my third son (18 months postpartum), I find I am only about oooohhhhhh seven-ish pounds heavier than I would prefer to be.

It's the boobs, you guys. It's all in the boobs. Seriously.

ANYWAY. All that to say, don't be afraid to eat fat! That is to say, good fat. Good fat doesn't make you fat. If your body can digest it, process it, and poop it out, it's not going to stick to you and cause you pain. If it's rancid, adulterated, or otherwise toxic, it's going to get stuck in all kinds of places and wreak havoc on your poor innards. Stick with the good stuff. Home-churned raw butter. Self-rendered tallow. Bacon grease from pastured bacon. Yeeeeaaaahhhhh baby.

No canola oil, you guys. Just don't. Don't. No.

Butter. Tallow. Bacon grease. Lard. Oh yes.

That's right, I said it. Lard. Don't be afraid of your porcine friend! Laaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrd. Frrrrrrriiiiiieeeeend. Truuuuuuuussssst Meeeeeeeeee.....(are you hypnotized yet?...)

Fats make food worth eating. And hence, life worth living.

My logic is undeniable.

I love my logic, don't you?

So. Now that you're all ready to dive into the wonderful world of delicious, savory fats, here's a quick tutorial on rendering said animal adiposity.

First, get some fat from your local butcher. You can try to be all fancy by asking them for "tallow" or "suet", but they might just look at you and be confused until you say "er...you know...the extra FAT.", at which point they might just say "ooooohhhhhh the extra fat! yeah sure, here, have some for free!"

Or they might charge you a dollar for like ten pounds of the stuff. Or they might charge $1 per pound. I dunno. It seems to be sort of arbitrarily decided in my neck of the woods. Maybe butchers have frequent mood swings?

Step One! Chop it up with a big knife. Preferably a heavy knife that you can really lean into. If the fat has been frozen like mine, it can take some effort to break up.

Step Two! Toss it in a crock pot. Cover and turn the pot to LOW.

Step Three! Leave it for 8 hours or so. You might check on it every now and then, but I usually just leave mine overnight.

Step Four! Once it's all nice and melty and the bits are brownish (I'm so technical, y'all), turn the crockpot off and let it sit and cool for a while.

Step Five! Strain it using a clean kitchen towel. I usually strain into a good stainless steel pot. Don't ever strain it into plastic. Newbie Me might have done that a few years back when I was just starting out with this stuff. (Shhhh. We don't speak of Newbie Me anymore. Plastic melts real fast, in case you didn't know.)

Make sure that your oil is a good temperature for this before you do it. It should be warm enough to stay liquid, but not hot enough to burn. You're going to want to squeeze your straining cloth, so if it's burning your hands, it's too hot.

Squeeze all the goodness out of the crispy bits and toss those in the trash or the compost or whatever. Some people say to eat them, and call them "cracklins", but I'm pretty sure those people are wrong. I have never been tempted to taste these gloppy, brown, weird looking remains, and I'm pretty sure "cracklin'" is actually made from a roasted pig's skin. Pig's skin = crackling. Leftover bits from making tallow = soggy and gross.

Step Six! Transfer strained tallow to a clean mason jar and affix a lid to the top. Label your richness and gaze at it in satisfaction.

I don't know exactly how long this lasts, but it is very shelf stable. I know I've kept mine at room temperature for at least a month and never had a problem with it going bad. If you're worried, of course you can always keep it in the fridge, although it will get rather harder in there. Your tallow should solidify as it cools and be a lovely, soft creamy white.

I use mine for sautéing, deep frying, and seasoning my pans mostly (do it properly and you will never have that first pancake stick ever again!). You could use it in baking, but I would recommend having some strong spices in whatever you're baking because it does have a definite beefy flavor to it. There is a specific type of lard that is supposed to be good for baking ("leaf lard", I think), and there is a very specific way to render it very carefully and slowly and specifically so that it is almost entirely devoid of piggy flavor, but I have yet to attempt anything like that. ^_^

Good luck in all your adventures, friends!



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