Thought I’d just share a few pics from the ice storm we had last week. It meant that we were without power for a few days, but grateful to have a generator that we hooked up less than 24 hours into the outage. Those lineman for our co-op are AMAZING!
What’s your favorite part of winter?
* Correction made – it was brought to my attention that although permitted for 9,000 this pig farm will actually be home to up to 5,400 sows. They will farrow (have piglets) throughout the year.
There are certain things that happen in my state, a state that I love dearly, that just makes me shake my head in awe and wonder. And recent events definitely qualify for shaking my head.
A family farm from Minnesota is moving forward with plans on starting a pig farm in North Dakota. They’ve located a site that follows all the state rules, guidelines, setbacks, etc. They’ve worked hard on dotting i’s and crossing t’s, and are in the final stages of getting set up. Oh, and did I mention that they run their farm like a business…like all of us that farm do, or at least should.
Except now we have people standing up in opposition, insisting that somehow this farm will destroy the dreams that they’ve had for peaceful living in a rural area. It’s truly a case of “not in my backyard.” Apparently many people forget that agriculture is still the backbone of our state. So let’s take a look at the numbers, shall we?
This pig farm will house up to 5,400 sows – with the average potential to almost double the number of pigs that our state raises to feed people. Remember that? Pigs are raised for food. Like bacon.
Local food is all the rage now. Many of the opponents to the pig farm are big proponents for local food. Right now the state of North Dakota has about 150,000 pigs that are used for food each year. The average pig brings 150 pounds of meat to the table…literally. According to statistics, the average person eats about 46 pounds of pork per year. This means that a pig generally provides a year’s worth of food for three people.
There are 739,000 people in the state of North Dakota. That means we would roughly need 34 million pounds of pork. We only produce 22 million pounds right now. So who doesn’t get bacon? Or pork chops? Or pork roast?
Oh, that’s right – local food is only important when it can be raised by “mom and pop” farms. “Family farms” quit being family farms once you consider it a business. And let me remind you, that this farm is a family farm. That term does not change regardless of size. And size does not determine the “friendliness” of a farm to its neighbors. They are good neighbors. Big does not mean bad.
Opponents claim that this is a direct result of changes made to our state’s anti-corporate farming law that relaxed restrictions in hog and dairy operations. But guess what? Rolling Family Farms ends with LLP, not LLC. That’s right, it’s a partnership, not a corporation. The changes to our law make no difference whatsoever.
But why should it matter? What happened to the ability to go into business when you’re following every rule and regulation already in place? What happened to the freedom of being able to develop a successful business model and moving forward? Apparently you can do so – but not with food.
A boy and his pigs. But not sustainable large-scale.
I love bacon. I love agriculture. I love this state I call home. But we need to wake up and read the writing on the wall. We cannot continue to think that the old-fashioned way of doing things will sustain us long-term. We use new technologies in medicine, how can we not embrace the same changes for our dinner plate?
I support agriculture. I support food. I support choices. I don’t understand those that stand in the way.
Trust me, I have more to say…stay tuned.
I have four boys…four rambunctious, crazy, wild boys. I thank God every day that we live on a farm, because I’m not sure town could handle them. Or maybe it’s that I’m not sure I could handle them in town. Without frequent visits from officers. And maybe child protective services. And calls from neighbors. And…well, I digress.
So how does being a farm mom rock? Let me count the ways:
These are what we found right away…a few had escaped.
But the best sign of spring? Outdoor bathroom is open for business.
That little one on bottom left? Yeah, he’s not so good at secrets.
No matter what, these boys are my world. And I’m glad I can raise them in the best environment possible – our farm. They learn so much, but even more so, they learn how to become better people. They respect the land, understand hard work, and know where their blessings come from – I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
I’m sure I could add hundreds more, but I’d rather hear about your reasons why you love being a farm mom…or maybe why you’re glad you’re not!
Yesterday I received a letter in the mail that I’ve been dreading for years. I was notified that our insurance will be discontinued on June 30. But I’m not supposed to worry, because they have a plan that’s “comparable,” that can start July 1.
Our insurance is being discontinued, like so many others…but don’t simply blame a law and call it quits. Work for solutions. It’s why we live where we live.
Except I don’t trust that it is.
It’s not that I’m always this distrustful. But George doesn’t rely on me taking someone else’s word for it. We live in North Dakota. His pediatrician is in South Dakota. His specialists are in Minnesota. Right now, I don’t have to worry about things like “networks” and “preferred providers” and whatever other words they throw in the way of the search for medicine.
George, summer 2010, (about 16-months old, wearing 6-9 month clothing) before we had a diagnosis more than “failure to thrive.” This is the picture that I look at when I wonder if I’m pushing too hard…and then I push harder.
But I digress.
So, I posted last night that I received the dreaded letter, and the response was pretty much what I figured it would be – people blamed the law.
Is it the law’s fault? Did the law write itself? Did it pass on its own? Has it not had a chance to be corrected? The flaws less flawed? The problems less problematic? The promises more promissory?
And yet, we’re so quick to blame the legislation. Blame the party. Blame whatever inanimate object, thing or idea that cannot possibly take the blame. So where does the blame lie? (Here’s where I probably lose a little popularity…) It lies with legislators, lawmakers, elected officials…and us.
That’s right. I take partial responsibility. Do you? I voted. And have, in every election since I turned 18. Which means I’m partially to blame. Not because I didn’t vote “right,” but because I haven’t done enough to make sure that my lawmakers understand who I am, where I’m coming from and what it is that I need from the laws they are passing.
I cannot blame the law, when I haven’t done as much as I could do to ensure that the changes I need are being made. And that doesn’t begin and end with complaining – it includes constructive criticism, yes, but also solutions – real ones.
Let me be clear, I know of several families (real ones), that have been helped by the Affordable Care Act. I do not deny that we truly need access for all to health care, and health insurance, as well.
I guess it’s time I get to working on my suggestions for solutions, because I definitely have a problem.
It’s been awhile since I’ve updated on George’s story. And for those that have been following along, you’ll be happy to know that kindergarten has been going great! We’ve only missed 9 days so far, which in George’s world is pretty remarkable. And only once was it a pretty serious illness…but no hospital stays.
We had a check up at Mayo in October. The pediatric neurologist is amazed with our progress. She cannot believe how far he has come. We had a repeat MRI and the gaps in his brain that they have been concerned about have not grown any. Some serious miracles here, folks. Science and God…together.
Every day at Mayo, George would stop and say the Pledge of Allegiance to this flag. He’s one amazing little kid.
The last two weeks have been a bit more difficult. George has had some tummy issues that we can’t quite figure out. We’ve had an ER trip, a few docs visits…and it seems to be getting worse, not better. But we were able to get in to see a doctor this afternoon and we have a plan – and for some reason I always feel a little better when we have a plan. And if things aren’t looking better by Friday, well, then we are looking at another plan.
On day 2 at Mayo, George wore his Ninja Turtle sweatshirt. One doctor came up to him and shook his hand, and told him it was a pleasure to meet a real super hero. George is definitely MY super hero!
But with everything that has been going on, I’ve become a bit difficult. A little sensitive. Sleeping less. Needing more. Just not myself. I’ve lost a bit of my focus.
And then tonight, it all came sharply back into focus.
George was sitting behind me in the suburban on the way home. Today I had woke up late, managed to get the kids ready, worked, had rearranged schedules so I could squeeze in a doctor’s appointment for George, drove 45 minutes to the appointment, then back for two parent-teacher’s conferences, listen to my 10-year-old explain how a schoolmate had told him that he’s growing too fast that he’s going to die, talk to him about bullying and coping techniques, went to a book fair, gave my son some meds…and we were finally on the way home.
In the two minutes of silence that we were blessed with, George asked, “Is heaven fun?”
I didn’t know how…or if…I should respond. Why was he asking? Was he having dreams? Had he been hearing me talking to his doctors at Mayo? Had someone else been talking near him?
So I carefully said, “Yes, I am sure it is. But why do you ask?”
He said, “I just want to be sure I can play there when I die.”
Silence.
I couldn’t say a word.
My 5-year-old made me speechless.
I sometimes get so wrapped up in the minutia of life…and I forget the big picture. And then George will say something and it will be like God tapping me on the shoulder, reminding me that in the grand scheme of things, the destination is much more important than the scenery along the way.
I do not know how many more tomorrows George has ahead of him…nobody knows how many tomorrows they may have. Yet I know that George faces a few more obstacles than the average person. But he faces those obstacles with more bravery and courage than I could ever muster.
It was brought to my attention recently that perhaps I don’t spend nearly enough time explaining to people why it is that I’m involved so passionately about advocating for agriculture. It does seem to take a lot of time away from other things that I should be doing.
Yet, without someone willing to stand up and speak out about those issues that I hold nearest and dearest to my heart, where would we be? Could someone else do it? Sure. In fact, I know that there are people all over the area that could be doing what I’m doing. And I would love to see them become more active.
My question is: Will they? Will you?
And if not, then I need to keep moving forward, until those of us that are willing to show our operations, willing to answer those questions, willing to explain why we do what we do are much higher in numbers and much louder in volume.
It’s a simple case of mathematics. Those actively involved in agriculture are way lower in numbers than those that are not. Which means that laws that are passed, advertising that is created and articles that are written are disconnected from the one place that everyone should be connected to…our food.
It’s not easy to put yourself out there, to “open your barn doors,” so to speak. It’s not easy to let people in and open yourself to questions and observations. Yet it’s necessary. We are no longer in a society that is alright with the answer, “I know what I am doing.” They want to see, they want to understand, they want to know that what they are putting on the table is okay.
Let’s celebrate food…and food choices. For the first step is being able to provide.
And it is. No matter how you raise your crops, what type of operation you have. The United States has one of the safest and most abundant food supplies in the world. Yet those that are responsible for providing that staple are the ones quietest about what they are doing and how they are doing it.
We can’t sit back and watch as the world is shaped around us. We have to be actively involved. And it’s not for our benefit.
I have four young boys. And I have hopes and dreams that perhaps one day, if I am lucky, and if our world is lucky, one of them will want to be involved in agriculture. It’s up to me to make sure that their future is secure.
And I cannot do that by sitting quietly by while other people are out there trying to explain how I’m not doing my job right.
Farms are ever-changing operations. They are not the farms from yesterday, and we’re not yet a farm of tomorrow. But we’re doing the best that we can and we’re doing it, not for ourselves, but for the future.
I put myself out there for them.
The future of our farm…the future of your food…lies here.
But I’m here to answer questions from you.
Literally…it is 11:30 and I am processing beets to freeze.
I need my head examined. Seriously.
But for those of you that know me, you’re not too surprise now, are you?
I figured since many of my friends are amazed at the amount of food that I freeze/can/prepare for winter, I would give you a quick rundown on how to freeze beets. It’s easy. Really easy. Not sure if it’s lets-start-this-at-10:30-at-night easy, but we’re going with it.
1) Wash beets. Leave 2 inches on the top and the tap root. Trust me. You want to cut them off, I know, but don’t. Or you’ll have enough purple dye to make royal robes.
A big ‘ol bucket of beets. The last of our garden fare. Ready to hit the freezer.
2) Boil beets until you can stick a fork in them easily. I could pretend to give you a time, but it all depends on the size of the beet. Some of these bad boys took an hour. You do the math.
3) Put cooked beets in cold water, peel off outer layer. Dice, chop, slice, leave whole, however you want to freeze them. Place in freezer bag (easiest), vacuum seal, however you wish to freeze them.
4) Freeze them. (Usually in a freezer of some sort…but it’s October…and North Dakota, so that’ll become optional soon.)
Hey, what do you know, I become a bit sarcastic and snarky at midnight. Lesson learned.
😉
Don’t worry, I’ll be in a better mood tomorrow. I promise!
So tonight I switched up my workout a bit. The elliptical wasn’t going to cut it. It’s been one heck of a Monday, filled with unneeded drama, day-to-day stress and this issue I’m having with a recurring dream.
Have I mentioned taking a few college courses, the fact that rain has delayed harvest and that I missed my 11-year-old’s first ball game tonight?
The whole point? Not much, really. Just letting off steam, and since this is my blog, I certainly can do that. 😉 Who am I kidding, this blog has long since left the realm of a private rant! (Not complaining, not one bit.)
So instead of sitting on a machine in the warmth of my house, I braved the rain, ran out to the shop and played a little farm ball. Now that harvest is stalled because of the weather, and mostly because what farm shop isn’t stacked with machinery and what-not, playing ball in the shop isn’t like regular basketball.
Nope, you have to make up your own rules, call your own shots and award points and rewards accordingly…and you need to know when to call the game.
So, here’s my lesson for the night…let’s see if you can find the deeper meaning:
Sometimes you have to take an outside shot…sometimes from behind the Gehl cutter. Double points if you don’t break out the glass in the tractor.
Hitting a three is always a challenge in basketball. Now hit one from behind an air seeder. It’s not just the distance you shoot from, but the obstacles in your way and whether or not you make the shot, no matter what you’re facing.
The only triple in this shot was the tractor I was standing behind. Follow-through is a must in the game…basketball or otherwise.
Your obstacles don’t have to be something new, and your answers don’t have to reinvent the wheel…use what’s in front of you. You won’t be the first tackling that particular problem, and you most certainly are not the last. Even if your problem is the size of an old Massey Ferguson combine. Get the job done. (Oh, and doesn’t everyone have an old fridge in their hay shed?)
Most importantly, know when to say when…and tonight it was losing the ball under the combine, and not wanting to go after it. Sometimes it’s not worth getting dirty over…
When I think about my hours spent in the kitchen on the farm, my first instinct is to grab my lasagna pan. Whenever we work cattle, have a crew out to help or need to work together on a project, I know that I can never go wrong with the cheesy, meaty greatness that is my “Farm-ous Lasagna.”
So here it is…AND I have a crew to feed it to today!
This is what we’re doing:
This is corn that has been chopped and will be used this winter to feed our cattle. We have a crew of 7 here today to help us get our feed ready!
And I’ll be sure to explain it more later.
But for now, here’s the recipe:
Val’s Farm-ous Lasagna
Ingredients:
1) Add pasta sauce and browned hamburger together in a skillet. I make sure it’s all warmed together before layering my lasagna.
This is how I start my lasagna, with a layer of sauce.
2) Layer your lasagna: I always start with a base of sauce/burger mixture at the bottom, then a layer of noodles, then a layer of sauce again, cottage cheese and shredded cheese. Continue layering, ending with shredded cheese that covers the whole pan. (I use one package of cheese in the layering, and one package just for the topping…I like cheese.) Like this:
3) Bake at 350* for about 30 minutes, or until you notice the sauce in the lasagna starts boiling.
Can we say, “YUM!”
4) Enjoy! And perhaps consider hitting the gym for a little extra time tonight. The beauty of this recipe? If possible, it tastes even better as leftovers. Unfortunately, it’s been a year or two since my boys left us any leftovers!
* I am participating in Indiana’s Family of Farmers Table Talk Series and received a gift in exchange for my participation.
After a post that I wrote two years ago went viral, I’ve had a slug of comments from people across the globe. Most are encouraging and supportive, some are people with genuine interest in learning more, and a few are down right hilarious!
But then there’s the detractors.
You know what I mean, right? They point out inadequacies and make you feel guilty for not including everything. So here goes nothing…
A few have chastised me for complaining about my farm life, and have encouraged me to spend more time outdoors, standing next to my hubby than at the keyboard, lamenting about my spot in life. To those people, I must apologize.
I didn’t mean for it to sound as if I’m ungrateful or bitter or pining away at my kitchen table, dreaming of a moment stolen with my spouse (although, that does sound a tad bit more romantic than real life). My post was merely a moments entertainment, that somehow struck a chord with a few hundred thousand people, give or take.
And my moments spent with Boss Man? Well, I don’t usually publicize them. You see, those are my special memories, that I keep close to my heart and they keep me going when our worlds seem so crazy. But just to give you proof, here’s a little glimpse:
I check cows…usually at night, mostly in the winter. He must love me, when I go out looking like this, right???
My husband’s comment when I asked him to take a picture of us working? “If I take the picture of you, won’t they wonder why I’m not working too?”
Cleaned up and off the farm…hardly recognize us!
Pitching fresh hay in calf shelters. It’s more fun when you work together!
Working together…these moments mean the most.
Wag'n Tales 