Multi-use homestead outbuilding

So I've been tinkering with a design for a multi-use outbuilding. Thinking way too much I suspect.

In the past we built several goat shelters, a chicken pen, a chicken tractor, along with milking stanchions for goats and another for a cow. We also planned the design for our pole barn. I never did get around to building a greenhouse, but I did finally finish my grape arbor.

So I'm trying to combine things I've learned from experience with things I've learned from others, and create something new. Or at least interesting. I'm not sure if I've succeeded at either, but I've at least kept myself entertained and occupied through this long winter.

Below is what I came up with. This is a first pass. Suggestions and constructive criticism are always welcome. Also, if I ever build it, it could use a catchy name.

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Design:

The structure will be a long, narrow outbuilding composed of five square compartments or pens aligned in a row, running along an east/west axis. Each pen will have an interior space a little over 5 feet on a side, giving about 25 square feet of floor space. Each pen will have a 32-inch "doorway" in the center of the south wall. One pen should be able to provide shelter for up to six standard sized goats, or up to a dozen chickens, assuming they are given adequate run or pasture space.

click image to enlarge

Each of the five pens will serve a particular role in a given year, and functions will shift each year, giving a five-year rotation. The five functions are: Goat shelter, chicken coop, compost finishing, greenhouse, and woodshed.

The lower portion of the pens will be three courses of standard 8'x16' concrete blocks, but double the usual thickness (i.e. 2 blocks side by side or 16 inches thick). Standard dimensional lumber will be used to create a simple framework for the upper part of the structure.

The upper walls and roofing material will vary by function, as follows:

click images to enlarge

Goat shelter: The walls will be made of stacked straw bales. The roofing will consist of corrugated metal attached to lightweight (2x2) wooden frames. The roof will be designed with a slight slope for water runoff. It will overhang the straw bales slightly in all directions.

Chicken pen: The chicken pen, like the goat shelter will have straw bale walls and corrugated metal roofing on lightweight frames. However, movable nesting boxes will be inserted into the north wall in place of one of the straw bales. The nest boxes will be constructed to match the typical dimensions of the bales. A wood-framed door covered with chicken wire will be used to close the pen at night. Branches or rods can have both ends stuck into the straw bales to act as perches for the chickens at night.

Finishing compost: The compost area will consist of the remains of the goat bedding from 2 years prior, the chicken litter from the prior year, and rotting straw bales used for walls in previous years. Any excess rotted straw bales will be laid around the outside of the structure to act as insulation (and additional compost/mulch). This area would have minimal roof and wall coverings beyond those shared with neighboring pens.

Greenhouse: The roof, walls, and door of the greenhouse will be glazed with lightweight, durable material (polycarbonate maybe?) attached to lightweight frames. However, the rear (north) wall of the greenhouse will be painted plywood. Just inside the plywood, on top of the double-thick block walls will be 55-gallon rain barrels. They will be used to store rainwater. The barrels will supply water for the goats, chickens, and plants in the greenhouse. The warmer environment of the greenhouse will reduce the chance of the water freezing, and the thermal mass of the water will reduce temperature extremes within the greenhouse. The concrete block side walls should be entirely enclosed within the greenhouse, allowing for more shelf space. The concrete block could also be used as bench supports for shelving that extends the length or width of the greenhouse.

Woodshed: The woodshed area will have lightweight covering of whatever material is available, to keep rain off the stored wood. If extra glazing material is available to be used for this area, it would minimize the possibility of casting shade onto the greenhouse. However, caution should be used to make sure the stored wood is not subjected to excessive humidity.

Functional Rotation:

Each spring, the functions of each pen will shift one pen to the west, as follows:

Year 1: |  goats   | chickens | compost  |greenhouse| woodshed |
Year 2: | chickens | compost  |greenhouse| woodshed |  goats   |
Year 3: | compost  |greenhouse| woodshed |   goats  | chickens |
Year 4: |greenhouse| woodshed |  goats   | chickens | compost  |
Year 5: | woodshed |  goats   | chickens | compost  |greenhouse|

The upper portions of the pens would need to be taken down and moved as needed, which explains the emphasis on lightweight materials. However, the actual amount of work should not be great, since two of the pens have straw bale walls, which, if rotting, can simply be knocked down in place. The compost area has essentially no walls. The remaining roof panels and wall panels should be built in such a way that they can be moved easily. The rain barrels can be emptied for moving. The rotation should happen in spring, when rainwater should be plentiful.

The rotation is designed to cut down on incidence termites in the wood storage area, manure-borne parasites, while keeping a constant supply of fresh, rich soil for the greenhouse, and hopefully cutting down on all types of pests and pathogens.

The logic of the rotation is as follows:

The goat pen will build up a certain amount of bedding and manure over the course of a season, especially in winter. By moving the chickens into the goat area, the will scratch the bedding somewhat, encouraging the composting process, while at the same time adding fresh material in the form of droppings and litter. In the third year, this material, along with old straw bales, will finish composting, while still providing plenty of mulching material for the gardens. In the fourth year, the finished compost can be spread to the gardens and used with greenhouse plantings. The fifth year will be something of a "fallow" year, acting only as a dry place to store firewood through the winter.

In the warmer months, when no firewood storage is required, the pen could be set up as a milking area for the goats. In the winter, the milking station could be moved to the warmer greenhouse area.

By keeping the chickens and goats side-by-side four years out of five, the fencing needs are simplified. The chickens and goats would not be restricted from entering each other's pens during the day. Flexible stock panels could be used to channel the goats and chickens to pasture areas.

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Who out there has Nigerian Dwarf goats?

How many do you have?
How much land do they graze on?
How much hay do you use per year?
How much grain?
How much milk do you get?

So many questions.

We want a smaller property. Or at least a smaller amount of pasture. But how small can we go?

We've raised Nubian & Boer goats, so I have a feel for goats in general. I'd love to keep maybe 3-4 Nigerian dwarf goats, but I haven't gotten a good sense of how much room to set aside for them. I'd love to hear some real world examples.

We don't want them sitting in a muddy paddock eating hay year round. We want to have reasonable forage during the growing season and only feed hay in winter.

Of course by only posting once a month I've lost most of my visitors, but hopefully somebody out there will have a little to share.

Thanks!

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A Learning Experience

So tomorrow we're cashing the check for the last of our goats. With a baby on the way, dramatically rising feed costs, falling animal value, and frankly, just being in a bit over our heads, we decided to take a break from four-legged livestock.

And let me tell you, it wasn't a day too soon. What a story I have to tell you. This all actually happened this past weekend, but I haven't quite been ready to tell it until now.

We've been selling our herd little by little. The last to go was Congo. He was a high-bred, purebred, bull-headed Boer buck. He was always the most aggressive and the most obnoxious. (He also stunk to high heaven, and even the briefest dealings with him would leave you with a musky film all over you that just doesn't wash off easily.) He'd go out of his way to challenge you, and he knew just how to jab you with his horns. We knew being alone in the pasture wasn't going to be good for him, since goats are a herd animal and they don't do well solo. But we were working hard to sell him so he'd be back in a normal goaty environment.

What we didn't know was that he'd figure out how to get out of his pasture. One morning I glanced out the window, and there was Congo, punishing the neighbor's three rail fence. Odd.

Both gates were well secured. I couldn't see any visible damage or gaps anywhere in the pasture fence. Since he's not only aggressive, but strong, I grabbed the cattle prod and headed out to get him back in. I'd answer the question of how he got out later.

I decided to move him into a different pasture. Maybe a change of scenery would keep him occupied for a while. It did. For about three hours. In the meantime, I ran out to take care of an errand. I mistakenly assumed that his escape had to do with some undiscovered issue in the old pasture fence line.

No. He learned how to climb the fence. A chest-high woven-wire fence. He was using the crossbrace for the end posts as a stepladder and hurling himself over. I knew I should have finished electrifying that damn topwire. (You can see the crossbrace I'm talking about in the photo to the left.)

With me gone, this left my poor wife to deal with the big brute. My pregnant wife. Not good. He could get out within 60 seconds of being locked in. I got back to the house and he was out again. Lori's crying. He'd escaped twice, torn some of the siding off our house, and pinned her against the gate where she could not overpower him. Meanwhile, my son thinks it's all a big game, coming out of the house to see what we're doing, or shouting at us from the window. It was just a nightmare.

Eventually after getting him into the pasture and sending everybody else inside, I find myself standing there at the crossbrace, keeping him away with the cattle prod, trying to figure out what in the hell to do.

Okay, I'm going to build a temporary pen out of cattle panels. One with no crossbraces. We've got part of a pen already, so I just need to close it off. I head into the pasture and call Lori on my cellphone. She brings me the wire and the wire cutters. I cut loose a panel from a divider fence and start securing the temporary pen. I get Congo to chase me in there and then sneak around the shelter and close off the last escape route. After a good bit of wiring, we don't even have an entry point. The only way in is with wire cutters. He won't be there for more than a day or two. He's got a shelter, he's got water, and he's got hay. Whew.

Ten minutes. That's how long it took him to figure out how to climb the cattle panels and hop over the perimeter fence again. This is a thick, muscled animal who probably weighs close to 200 pounds, and who is now stronger than any of us. So I say "hop" facetiously. He's out again, and this time he's pissed.

Shit.

I thought he was secured, so I had headed over to the neighbor's house to get a stray rooster out of their llama pasture. He'd been in there all day, and it was getting toward dusk. Unlike the hens, he's apparently not smart enough to find his way back out the way he got in. From there I can see Congo trotting through our front yard. But because of the fences, there's no quick way back if you're bigger than a chicken. And their fence is topped with barbed wire to boot, so I'm not even up for trying to climb it. I take the shortest route I can, all the while trying to figure out how to stop this unstoppable beast.

I have no ideas left. All I know is that I want Lori to stop trying to help me and get into the house. She keeps resisting and I keep insisting. I'm not all chivalrous or stuck on gender roles, but there's this matter of an unborn child that happens to be right at Congo's head height. Congo takes turns charging at us and rearing up on his hind legs. Finally I convince Lori to go inside while my mind frantically tries to think of a solution. Any solution.

Out of desperation, I decide to try to get him into the "goat gofer". It's a cage that fits into the back of a pickup truck, used for transporting goats or other small livestock. It once fell off the back of our truck at 60 miles per hour, and didn't have a dent or scratch on it. If I can somehow get him in there somehow, and get it secured, we can take him to the auction in two days. Leaving him in there for two days sounds like a terrible idea, but I have no others.

I drag the cage over to the truck. Lori sees me struggling with it and comes out to help me steer it onto the bed of the pickup. Congo decides to give her a hard time and I'm having none of it. I grab the prod and come after him. He manages to charge me, pushes me back into my knee high garden fence and almost takes me down. I give him a good jolt and he backs off. Mostly.

We get the cage secured to the truck while he's milling around looking for trouble. I discover that wherever I go, he comes at me. I set up the ramps on the back of the truck, and I climb into the bed and get behind the cage. He walks right up the ramp, eyes me behind the cage, and sticks his head in. Can something actually go right? Is he dumb enough to go into the cage?

No, not quite. But he's thinking about it. Meanwhile, Lori's brought some grain. I ask her to get in behind the cage too. Yes, I'm using my pregnant wife as bait to trap a dangerous animal. I suck.

The grain goes in the cage, Lori gets behind it with me, and we try to coax and/or taunt him into going in. After a couple of almosts, a lot of swearing, and some kind of luck, I slam the cage door shut and pop the pin to secure it. We cover the whole thing with a tarp. This should keep the rain and wind off him, keep him from seeing us and getting angry, and maybe even contain his stench a little. We get a water bucket in place, stuff some hay in, throw some cinder blocks onto the corners of the tarp, and hope for the best. The next step is to have the sherrif come out and shoot the damned thing. Why didn't we have a gun on hand?

Two long but uneventful days later, Congo made it to the auction. He sold for far less than we paid for him. But he's not our problem any more.

I can live with that.

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Who said raising livestock isn't fun?

Imagine, if you will, two young, 75-pound skittish male goats. Now imagine that they have to be loaded into a cage, in the bed of a pickup truck, to be taken to a livestock auction. Now imagine a pregnant woman and a man with a broken wrist trying to corner them in an acre of pasture and get them loaded up into the aforementioned truck, while a four-year-old shouts helpful instructions from the cab. Be sure to include a soundtrack of either the Keystone Kops or Benny Hill.

It was, um, interesting. Not quite as interesting as our next task - to separate one 125-pound adult buck, in, um, "full bloom", from his, er, "life partner." And then load him into the same cage as the two younger bucks. It was a long and lonely summer for the two adult males, and they spent the past couple months stinking up the neighborhood. Instead of white, they are completely covered in a kind of yellowish-brown hue, from spraying their own pungent urine on themselves and each other. They had their pink lightsabers drawn and were not in any mood to be separated.

We got them loaded. Don't ask how. And I got to drive them to the auction yard, with what can only be described as an all-male goat orgy in my rearview mirror. We trailed an invisible plume of goat stink and unfiltered truck exhaust, which must have left an indelible, malodorous film on everything within 50 yards of State Route 138 between Circleville and Hillsboro.

Oh, but I didn't describe the accompanying sound wave. Imagine the Tasmanian Devil cartoon character, with his voice dropped a couple of octaves, and filtered through a large spinning fan blade. Add one loud, unmuffled truck engine.

Luckily, our route led us through a lot of sparsely populated farmland. Even so, I'm pretty sure there are a few people along that route who are scarred for life.

Sorry, my camera's broken, so no pictures to go with this story.
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Update, Part 1: The Animals

Sorry for the lack of posts. We're still cranking away on a hundred different things. Stand by for a multi-part brain dump of what we've been up to... Are we doing too much too fast? Absolutely. But by now many of you know that I hear a big clock ticking whenever I sit still for too long. But I digress...

Up first, the Livestock Report.


The goat kids are getting bigger by the minute. It's a bit comical to watch a 50 lb kid nursing on a 100 lb mother. They essentially have to lay down on the ground to get under there. (They'll be weaned pretty soon. We've been waiting on our pole barn to be done in order to separate them. I've a feeling that the mommas are probably already working on it.)

We seem to have lost our buyer for two of the bucklings. No worries, there are plenty of other buyers out there. And we can probably get a little more for them now that they're bigger.

It hasn't rained here in at least a couple weeks. The bad news is that means our pastures are thinner than we'd like. But we did get the donkey and the bucks integrated into one pasture, thanks to some extra prodding from Contrary Goddess. I think one of the biggest tricks to this lifestyle is knowing who to listen to when. It's not all wine and roses out there in the obnoxious animal paddock, but it'll have to do for now. Now if I could just teach that donkey to pull a plow he could start really earning his keep. In the meantime, we're looking for a buyer. Need a donkey?

The chickens are awesome. We especially like the Buckeye breed. The Dominiques are nice enough, but they are definitely more homebodies than the wandering Buckeyes. The Buckeyes are constantly popping out from under bushes, or the tractor, the car, a tuft of grass... We removed the truck cap that came with our pickup, and it's become a sort of home away from home for the chickens. They're nice enough to keep the grass trimmed under there for me too. Now if I could just keep them out of the garden until the seedlings are a bit more established...

In case you're wondering, yes, they're still in the garage. Well, they range during the day and use the garage as their home base. Lori built a chicken tractor for the roosters - we've only identified three so far on a straight run of 12! Woohoo! And meanwhile we're building a pen in the pole barn which is finally finished. (More on that in another post.)

A funny thing about the Dominiques is that they roost on the top rung of the cattle panel that used to form their pen in the garage. They have other perches, but for some reason, they like the precarious top rung, even though the most insignificant event sets them all to wobbling. Funnier still are the few who are a little slow on the uptake, perching on the second or third rungs, directly below their flock-mates. I don't think sleeping on a perch directly below another chicken is the greatest idea in the world, but maybe it's just me. A few Buckeyes join them on the panel, but the rest seem to prefer bedding down on the ground floor in a big clump.

The best chicken trick so far? Plucking flies out of mid-air. How cool is that?

Projects

Life has been on the verge of chaos since Winter released her icy grip.

Amelia is sick with an ear infection. Well, the ear infection is waning (we think/hope) but the antibiotics are causing her to have an upset stomach. Today was the first day in almost a week that she's seemed anything close to herself.

E5 is also sick, with a fever. Poor kid woke up during the night last night, very alarmed that his bed was "doing something by itself." "What's it doing?" I asked. "It's tipping way over," he said, his voice quivering a bit, and then added, "Let's get out of here!"

We also got new neighbors. They have five, count 'em - five, kids. From fourteen years (hello babysitting!) down to eighteen months. E5 has been in heaven, asking to play with them nearly every day. And they've all been thrilled with their new playmates too. They seem like really good kids too. They were very polite, inquisitive, and conscienscious as I gave them the grand tour. (What kid can resist a donkey, baby goats, and baby chicks?) They even let E5 borrow some of their toys for a few days.

The parents seem to be on a similar wavelength with us. They're interested in getting some sheep or goats. They're putting in a huge (huge!) strawberry & blackberry patch. I noticed compact fluorescent bulbs in all the outdoor fixtures just a couple days after they moved in. They don't care that their vehicles are slightly beat up, as long as they get the job done. They've already given our kids a stack of hand-me-down books and a stuffed animal, and they met us for pizza one night last week.

As if all that weren't enough, we've crossed off a number of quick-but-necessary projects in the meantime.

Clothesline

Our dryer died. We're getting a replacement. In the meantime (and for future use), I put in a clothesline. It's just temporary, until our pole barn goes in. Metal T-post plus baling wire, a hook, a couple of pulleys, and some crappy clothesline that stretches like crazy. I actually had to use a fence stretcher to tighten it enough to keep the clothes off the ground. Who sells something stretchy as clothesline?!

Mother Nature played a little April Fools joke on us, bringing down the rain 30 minutes after we put some clothes out. The good news is that with our constant breeze, the clothes actually dried faster on the line than they did in the dryer.

Mason bee home

With honeybees mysteriously dying in droves all over the country, I decided to try attracting some native pollinators - namely mason bees. It's pretty easy. Some scrap lumber and a drill was all that was required. I'll write something up on this if I get a chance.

Mini-bridge

We had some drainage work done last spring, which alleviated a very soggy area in our back yard. The drainage path leads the water into one of our ponds, which is wonderful. Unfortunately, the path of the water and the path out to the pasture intersect, which left us with a frequently muddy ditch to cross. Now we have this handy little boardwalk.

More baby goats

Our last pregnant doe, Lolly, had her babies last week. A boy and a girl. They look so tiny compared to the brutes born last month. They're already climbing on top of their shelter like old pros. We (particularly Lori) had the unpleasant task of disbudding (de-horning) two kids and wethering (neutering) two more today. Man I'm glad that's over.

Growing chicks

They're gettin' bigger. Their wing feathers are coming in, leading to some interesting striping and coloring, especially on the Buckeyes. They've also figured out how to escape their pen in the garage. Luckily, they're not venturing too far to date.

More projects on the way, so stay tuned

Gee willikers

I thought I'd post a quick update on all the stuff that's been happening in our lives - but only those subjects that start with G. Because I'm feeling geeky.

Goats

We've finished the unpleasant task of disbudding all of our baby goats. This is an un-fun process that will keep them from growing horns. Unfortunately, the breeds we're dealing with get non-trivial horns, and we've already learned that our one fully horned goat is quite a nuisance, and verging on dangerous.

We also sold all three of our male goat babies. Well, there may be one or two more to come, but the three we have are all sold. The bottle baby has left us already, and he'll be joined by his brother and his half-brother as soon as they are weaned. The more sensitive readers out there will be happy to know that they won't be sold for meat. They'll be living out their days together on a brushy hillside with a running stream. No word on whether daisies grow there. But an animal-loving granddaughter and aspiring vet will take good care of them, I'm sure. And it won't be long now before we can stop buying milk at the grocery store again...

Glamour

I've been asked by BlueGreenEarth (no relation) and The European Social Ecology Institute for permission to republish a couple of my posts here. I am honored. Not bad for somebody just a year and a half removed from a life in suburbia. And further vindication that I am not crazy. Or at least that I'm not the only one who's crazy.

Gadgets

Speaking of crazy, I bought one of these on eBay:
This scary-looking cast-iron contraption can press apples for cider, grapes for wine, sunflower seeds or shelled nuts for oil, meat for lard, and any number of other things. Should be fun.

Garage

Our baby chicks were scheduled to hatch yesterday. They should be arriving any time now. And since our pole barn isn't done, they'll be moving into the garage.

So if you're keeping score, so far we've had nesting mice, rats, mourning doves, goats, and now chickens in our garage. Our attached garage. Can't wait for that pole barn...

Gawking

Lori spotted a flock of hooded merganser ducks in our pond. There were about 10 of them. I tried to take a photo, but they're a bit shy. I dug this up on the Ohio DNR web site:

What a handsome devil.

We've also seen a pair of whistling swans (the big white ones), and we get daily visits from a hungry great blue heron.

Garden

Seed starting resumed yesterday. Not exactly on schedule, but it'll do. Into the seed blocks went:
- Diamond eggplant
- Applegreen eggplant
- Cilantro
- Sweet basil
- Purple basil
- Flat-leaf parsley
- Oregano
- Catnip (to draw a beneficial predator or two to our rodent-laden fields)

As you can see, I was feeling rather herbal.

Some of my small (3/4-inch) seed blocks collapsed when I tried to work with them. I'll have to work on that soil block mix. Other than that one row, they seem to be working pretty well so far.

But I have a confession to make. I don't really like starting seeds indoors. I'd much prefer to plant the seeds once, outside, in the ground, and let them do their thing. Gardeners are supposed to relish the start of gardening season, inside, in tiny little plots of earth, or something like it. But as happy as I am for spring to be approaching, for some reason I don't get too excited about the indoor stuff. In a few months, I'll be glad I got it done though. [Mental note: Look into floating row covers.]

Goodbye

... and stay tuned for fluffy baby chick pics.

Breaking news

For some fun baby goat news,
check out Lori's latest post.

Saturday Project: The Birthing Suite

...or as I like to call it, the you've-got-to-be-kidding pen.

This well-appointed corner of our garage will serve as the kidding pen for our goat mommas-to-be. Betsy will be moving in first, as soon as (if ever) the flooding subsides between her current home and this one.

Happiness is a warm bed

As requested, here's the link to my big Groovy Green debut, complete with typo. (Just pretend "succeptibility" is a word.)


Meanwhile, I learned something interesting today.

It's a little frustrating to see the goats drop so much hay on the ground, especially since we're buying hay from someone else at this point.

But here's the interesting thing. Much of the hay the goats drop is inside their shelter.

They've already got straw bedding, so you'd think they'd be set.

But guess what happens when you mix straw with hay, plus a little manure and urine, and an occasional splash of rainwater?

You get a nice thick soft heated mattress, that's what. Any gardener with a compost pile knows that greens plus browns plus water plus air makes heat.

When Lori raked out some of the bedding today (it was getting so thick, the goats were losing headroom), the "mattress" was literally steaming.

Are those hoofbeats on the rooftop?

See Congo? This is why we can't have nice things!