These are our three goats in milk at Iron Oak Farm. Esther our Alpine, Gretta and Nan our two Nubians. The Nubians produce about twice as much cream as our Alpine, but the Alpine produces twice the amount of milk total. So it’s a nice mix of useful milk that I’m learning to fill all of our dairy needs. We get about ¾ of a gallon from our girls in the morning milking and a little less than that at night. We are still bottle feeding the goats kids so we split our harvest with the babies. 

 Besides drinking milk outright, (in our coffee, with dinner or homemade cookies), our biggest dairy demand is butter. I use a lot of butter in cooking, sautéing and baking, I mix it with olive oil to give pan fried foods a wonderful caramelized sear that you just can’t get with oil alone.

For so long, butter has been a bad word when it comes to healthy eating, But I believe that our butter is a healthy source of fat. And I’m not afraid to eat it in moderation. Just as grass fed beef is a healthier alternative to the commercially raised cows, our goats get grain while we milk them, but the rest of their time is spent out in green pasture grazing on lush grass, or munching on the hay that we bale ourselves from the same field.

We jumped into dairy goats before I realized that goat butter wasn’t going to be as easy to make as cow butter.

Goat milk, unlike cow milk, is naturally homogenized. Which means the cream doesn’t separate as easily to the top of the milk. Eventually the cream will rise to the top if the milk is left undisturbed for a few days, but the yield is small and it’s a tedious process that holds the milk up waiting to be skimmed.

In frustration, I searched the internet for a better solution and found that there was such a gizmo called a cream separator. The device uses centrifugal force to separate the cream droplets from the milk. Many of these machines go for $300 and up, but we found an inexpensive model on E-bay for about $75. There is a range of simple, hand crank models available with a little searching.

To make the goat butter I place the jars of milk in the clean sink and fill almost to the top of the lid rims with hot water from the tap. I let them sit in the warm bath for about 45 minutes or until the milk is about 85 to 90 degrees.

We place two collection bowls under the cream separator spigots and begin turning the handle. It really whirls! The milk can be poured into the hopper and the cream comes out one spout and the skimmed milk comes out the other. When the milk is almost separated, I pour a bit of the skimmed milk back through, just to be sure we flushed all the cream out.

In our latest batch of 2 and ¾ gallons of milk we got almost a half gallon of cream.

I poured off a cup of cream to make sour cream and the rest we shook into butter. Shake the jar back and forth until you see the butter globules form. Once the butter takes shape I let the jar rest for a bit. The butter floats to the top and forms a mass which makes it easier to wash.

Using my fingers as a sieve, I pour the butter milk off the butter, the pillow of butter rests against my palm and the buttermilk runs between. You can save the buttermilk to use in baking, etc. 

 I wash the butter by adding cold water to the jar with the butter and shake it. The more milk you can remove the longer your butter will stay fresh. I do this several times until the water runs clear. The cold water will also help the butter firm slightly and take shape.

Then I use our wooden butter paddles to drain the water from the butter. This helps the butter to become more solid like store bought. The paddles have tiny groves that smear though the butter and release the water droplets to run down the grooves. I knead the butter on a cutting board. I smear the butter between the two paddles and then tilt the cutting board to let the water drain out. You could also use two forks with a similar outcome.

Then I salt the butter to taste.   

Goat butter is always pure white because unlike cows, goats absorb all the carotene they eat. Carotene is what gives grass fed butter that golden hue.

Well, kidding season is over for another year at Iron Oak Farm. We had some challenges, but overall I would consider it a very successful year. All the dams and kids are doing great and I’m glad to have the worry of birthing behind us.  

Esther, our Alpine gave birth to triplets almost a month after our other three does. I was alone when she went into labor, and things got a little complicated. The first baby was breach. I could see the bubble, but no head inside…only a tail. She seemed to be having a hard time, and really scared me when she laid down and started flailing her legs out in thrusts. I decided that it was time for me to help her.  

I grabbed the rubber gloves from our birthing kit that we keep close at hand during this time of the year, sanitized my hands and lubed up. I broke the bubble, which seemed to give her some relief and she gave a good push and the kid’s bottom came out a bit. But Esther gave a great holler and I was really worried. So I reached inside and found a leg. I gently pulled the leg out and at the same time Esther gave another push and the baby delivered one leg forward and one leg back. I removed the mucus from around the nose and mouth and pulled the baby around under mom’s nose so she could meet her new little one.   

Esther immediately started licking her new baby…this is my favorite part. I love to see the moms bonding with their kids. The long wait, and all the uncomfortable months… it’s a wonderful moment.  

But Esther wasn’t done. She kept “maaing” and hunching and rocking. Soon she stood up and started pushing again. This time two bubbles were trying to come out at the same time. She was trying to deliver two babies simultaneously. (Oh Lord!)  

So I stripped off the gloves I was wearing, grabbed a clean pair, sanitized and lubed up again. I popped both bubbles and was relieved to see two sets of hooves rather than a rear end. I carefully reached inside her and pushed the one baby back while pulling the second baby gently out and down with her next push. It took 3 or 4 pushes with me carefully pulling for the baby to deliver. It delivered backwards with back legs first. The next baby, Esther delivered quickly and without my assistance and was in the normal position. 

Mom cleaned her new little ones and I brought her some warm molasses water which she guzzled. The next hour or so Esther cleaned her babies and encouraged them to stand and nurse. Such a good mom! 

After it was all over and Mom and the babies were settling in, suddenly I realized that my adrenaline must have been in overdrive. A great relief washed over me and I was instantly exhausted. When Zach got home I broke down slightly, tears of joy and release of nerves. I was proud of myself for being able to make quick decisions and act without second guessing myself. And I can’t help feeling a closer bond with Esther.    

Our bottle fed babies that our other does delivered are doing great as well. Growing like crazy and demanding bottles with more and more persistence. They are eating grain now and hay in addition to all the milk that their mothers produce. To read their story visit my post Goat Kids Galore. 

We are very blessed. 

What a week! For almost a month now I’ve been wishing and wishing for our goats to give birth. Watching the signs, checking the girls, hoping, fretting, worrying. Trying to make them comfortable in every way I know to make a goat comfortable. And then…all at once the floodgates opened and baby goats are everywhere!!! 3 of our 4 pregnant does gave birth within the same 24 hours. It was a combination of adrenaline, exhaustion and beauty.  

But now we have ourselves in a fine how-do-you-do. For some reason, all three does rejected their babies. Our vet said that “sometimes these things happen”, but the logical side of me wants to know why. I feel it is too coincidental for there not to be an explanation, perhaps something we can do differently? But then again, maybe it is just nature or bad luck like the vet said and I’m trying to make sense of something that has no answer…or maybe just not to us humans. Here is our story.  

We bred 1 Angora doe, 2 Nubians, and an Alpine last fall. We’ve been raising goats going on 4 years now, but this is our second year kidding. Last year we bred two of our Angora does. The first birth went beautifully. The doe (Knit) gave birth, cleaned her doeling (Beatrix) and after a short rest, got her up and began nursing. It was amazing!

Our other angora doe (Purl) gave birth, cleaned her buckling (Ichabod) and then ignored him. Ichabod chased his mother for hours trying to nurse. Each time Purl would flare her ears at him and bolt to the opposite side of the pen. This went on until poor little Ichabod was exhausted and gave up trying. We ended up milking her and feeding it back to him. He lived with his mother, aunt and sister in the barn but took the bottle from us.

Many a goat person told me that this was classic behavior for a first timer, and that if we bred her again, chances are, she would accept the next kid.

Not the case. This year Purl followed suit. She gave birth to her doeling Harriette. Cleaned her, nuzzled with her, but refused to let her nurse. We figured it was just something about this particular goat and if we are going to breed her we would have to be prepared to bottle feed. We were disappointed but willing.   

Seven hours later Gretta our Nubian gave birth while we were in the house to twins; a buckling Gepetto and a doeling Ingrid. We were checking the girls every hour because it was a particular cold night and they looked like they could go any minute. We found the babies in opposite corners of the kidding stall, soaked to the bone and freezing. Gretta had completely ignored them. Didn’t even clean them and was ignorantly munching hay from her trough.  

We brought the babies in the house to dry and warm them. The buck was very weak and both kids were shaking with chill. We milked Gretta and gave them each a bottle. The buck perked up a bit which was quite the relief.  

4 hours later, while we were still trying to get the first two going, Nan gave birth to twin doelings, Abigail and Eleanor. We were present for this birth. We kept our distance outside the stall and let her take care of things. After the babies were born, she half heartedly licked them for a couple minutes, stood and walked on them in route to eat some hay. We left them be for about an hour, hoping that they would work things out for themselves. Soon the babies began to shake with chill and knowing that colostrum is so important in the first hours of life. We took these babies in as well to warm and dry them, milked the mother and fed her babies.

We struggled at this point as to what to do with the kids. I feel really strong that goats should be with goats...that’s where they belong. It is natural and the best way. But with the way the mother’s were behaving, I didn’t trust them to lay with the babies on a 15 degree night. We decided that we would keep the babies inside over night and try to reintroduce them to their mothers in the morning.

Morning came and we carried the babies out to their mothers. They completely ignored them. Which we were half expecting and ready to be patient, until one of the babies let out a cry and Nan rammed it. At this point we gave in. We brought the babies back in the house where they will stay until the weather warms and they can go into a kidding pen in the barn.  

I have wracked my brain trying to figure out a pattern, something we might have done wrong. We tried to give each goat distance during the birth, in fact for Gretta’s we were in the house. We separated Purl in her own maternity stall, but kept Nan and Gretta together because they get really stressed when they are apart. They are sisters and have such similar personalities, sweet, sweet girls and you never see one without the other. They get really frantic if they are separated and will call to each other in a panic. I didn’t think this sort of stress in the last days of their pregnancy would be a good thing. It broke my heart to see them acting so cold towards their own babies.      

We are now bottle feeding 5 baby goats! Four are living in a giant play pen in our living room until the weather warms above freezing, and Harriette comes back and forth to get her bottle. Later in the week I’d like to introduce them to the rest of the herd with supervision. The kidding pen will also be near the adult goats so they can see and smell each other through the fence. We still have Esther, our Alpine to get through. She is due any minute and hopefully she will possess the mothering instinct. She didn’t live with us during her first two seasons, but the farm we got her from never mentioned any issues with her and her babies so we are hopeful.   

Right now we’re taking one day at a time and enjoying our little ones. They are precious and I count each one as a true, true blessing.  

For more about last year’s kidding story read my post Our Kidding Story.

The past two weeks have been an odd mix of worry and excitement. Our three dairy goats Esther, Nan and Gretta are expecting babies any time and my mothering instinct has kicked in. Lord help the person who tries to get me out of the house for more than 2 hours at a time. I am still dealing with the “let nature take its course” mentality, and I do believe that nature knows best…I do. I know that goats have been doing this for thousands of years without human help. But goats in the wild also die, their babies die and freeze to death, they starve and perish sometimes and that too is a part of nature.

Our goats don’t live in the wild. We are responsible for them and that is a responsibility I take to heart. If there’s something I can do to ease their pain, make them more comfortable, healthier or successful in their pregnancies, then I’m going to do it…even if it means they have to admit me when it’s all said and done. 

Last year we bred our Angora does, Knit and Purl. The first delivery went marvelous. We took a break from the watch to take a nap, and when we went out, there was a perfect little doeling (Beatrix) curled up next to Knit happily being licked from head to toe. Our other doe, Purl, was a stinker! She had a little trouble delivering our buckling Ichabod, and we had to re-adjust him. Then once he was out, she rejected him and wouldn’t allow him to nurse. We bottle raised him, it was trying at times but I can’t deny the bond it created between me and that little goat. (For more about the birth of our Angora Kids read my post Our Kidding Story) 

It’s been really cold this spring and I worry that if something similar happens, the babies might freeze. I don’t trust heat lamps left unattended in the barn with goats. They’re too active and I worry about fire.  

So needless to say I’m a little frazzled. The midnight trips to the barn, analyzing their bodies, behaviors and habits, trying to see if there is a sign that might indicate they’re ready is getting to me. I’m not complaining necessarily, honestly I’m enjoying the excuse of getting to spend more time with the girls. In some small way I feel as though I’m part of the gang. But I when I’m in the house, or the grocery store, my brain is in the barn. 

Our goats were due approximately on the 24^th of February. This was their estimated 150th day of gestation. This number is very approximated because we never actually saw our buck Gideon mate with all our girls, so it could be off by a week or so. But here are some differences that we’ve been noticing.  

They’ve been consuming more water. 

Nesting, laying in the straw bedding and arranging it around them. 

Licking their sides and sort of “whisper maa-ing” to their bellies. 

Grunting, yawning and becoming more vocal 

Passing gas and relieving themselves much more often 

Enlarged vulva and occasional discharge 

Their udders have milk, but I would say they are only about half full. For our two does this is their first kidding so their udders are smaller.  

You can see their rumen motion like a wave across their side.  

Arching and stretching their backs 

Holding their tails in an awkward almost bent looking position 

Where the girls were carrying the babies higher and more to the sides, their bellies have dropped and now the babies are under them more. Their hips have sunken as well leaving a hollow spot right in from of the hip bones.  

Only time will tell when the babies will arrive. I’m trying to be patient and trust in our girls to know what needs to be done when the time comes. I hope I can be there to witness the miracle, but if I’m not, the joy of new life on our farm is blessing enough.

For more about our goats visit our blog at Iron Oak Farm 

I wish to apologize that I have not written a blog post sooner. My excuse is rather simple, being that, I have had no time to dedicate to writing. So I shall do my best to summarize the most important event that has transpired since my last post. Right now I am rather tired, so please forgive that this is mostly devoid of humor.

This morning, I woke up convinced that what happened yesterday didn't really happen. I had completely, totally, utterly forgot that we had purchased a new addition. So I meandered downstairs at six a.m. to let my dog out, and when I casually looked over the beautiful landscape, I saw the brown blob. I say blob, because I had woken up about thirty seconds ago, and my vision remained blurry. Then it clicked. We really had purchased her, and I had to get dressed in a rush to take care of her.

24 hours earlier...

“If we got a milk goat then our milk expenses would decrease.” My mother was trying to persuade me that we should get another goat.

“I know that, but we don't have a stanchion or a place to quarantine a new goat. It would be impractical to look for one right now.” The inevitable rebuttal came: “Those are easy problems to fix, besides there is a really good deal on Craigslist for a milking nanny, she is a nubian.” When I had been considering adding another goat to our herd, I had really thought that the nubian breed would be the best choice, and my mom had not forgotten.

" Goat milk tastes funny.” That was my brother's reason why not to get a milking doe. Not sufficient enough according to mom, because you “will learn to like it”, even if you don't like it now. My father liked the idea of avoiding having to keep going out of his way to pick up milk every week, so there was not a chance that Timothy (my brother) and I could win this battle. Hoping that the person selling the nubian doe would be your average Craigslist seller (i.e. won't respond for days upon days, and when they do it is to tell you that what you are interested in has already been sold), I wrote a short sweet email just to simply ask if she was still available and if she is, might I call the seller to ask some questions about the doe. The seller replied within thirty minutes. I couldn't help but think 'Bah-Humbug'. 

Then I put together a list of questions that you should ask before looking at a goat and driving a very long distance. I thought that there was no way she could meet all the criteria. Confident of my own phone skills, I made the call to talk to the lady selling her.
“Why are you getting rid of the goat?” “The man who owns her had a stroke yesterday and can't get out of bed to milk her twice a day.” 

“Is she a registered nubian?” “No she isn't registered but both of her parents were.” 

“How many kids did she have?” “She had two kids a month ago.” 

My questions went on, and the answers were quite satisfying, so that there really wasn't anything bad about her that I could tell my mother to dissuade her from wanting to see the goat. Thus a trip was scheduled for the day, so that we would go and see the goat around noon.

When we went to see her, I did a quick inspection, deemed that she had need of a hoof trimming, had parasites, and was thin.

"Alright, load her up.” An inward groan on my part, then she was all packed up, and we were on our way. There wasn't anything seriously wrong with her, because we have hoof trimmers, lots of goat dewormer, and good pasture for her to get fat. Soon enough we were home.

If the state of health was not exactly perfect, her temperament was. She was fine being led around on a halter and leash, didn't mind meeting the chickens, and liked eating weeds.  She had no intention of fighting with the other goats, or making any attempts at escape.  Around the dinner table that night everyone was puzzled about what to call her. Since she is black and brown, sort of a hazelnut and chocolate, we called her Nutella.