This funny thing called taxation

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There is a group of people looking to put North Dakota on the map again. This time it’s not about being a “happy” state, about low unemployment rates, about economic development. No, this time, they would like to see North Dakota as the first state to abolish property tax.

They claim that passing Measure 2 will make North Dakota truly “legendary.” And that it’s time that we throw the albatross of property taxes off of the tax payer and back on to the state…where it belongs! (Imagine loud voices cheering, pitchforks waving, torches in the air!)

But wait a minute…we should take the local tax revenue, and return it to the state? And let the state be responsible? Seriously?

I am all for tax reform, as would any reasonable person. I’m all for recalculating the numbers, so that no one economic group is unfairly taxed. I’m all for changes and discussions and working towards a better tomorrow. But throw our whole tax structure just because we couldn’t find a more reasonable answer? No thanks.

The way that property taxes are calculated is complicated. I get that. The way that you figure out if you pay property taxes is simple. If you buy property, there will be a tax. And out of that tax comes local improvements. County roads, township roads, school funding, local museums, local extensions services…the list continues on.

Again, if the purpose of this measure was to make a point about property tax reform, point is made. Thank you, let’s have a discussion and work on it. Let’s move forward and get something hammered out in writing. Something that works.

The thought of truly eliminating property taxes is ridiculous and a mistake of epic proportions. And it wouldn’t even be a mistake just for our generation. It would be a disaster for generations to come.

Yes, North Dakota has a budget surplus. Yes, our state is booming and growing and doing all things that are pointing to a strong future for the next generation. Let’s build upon it and leave our state in better condition for the next generation. Not set it up to fail before they even have a chance to have a voice.

If Measure 2 proponents want to see changes made at the capitol, great…let’s get some changes made. Let’s cut spending and prioritize our funding, and work with our legislators to reach these goals. That’s our job as voters and constituents, right?

How does it work that the proponents of Measure 2 blame our legislators, tell the world that they’re not doing a good enough job…and then give them the sole responsibility to not only fund the state-run programs, but ALL local programs as well!?!

Perhaps I’ve spent too many years on the farm, but I do believe our country was built on the principle that if you do not like who’s representing you at the local, state and federal level, you will have the opportunity to make changes. Has something changed recently?

Do you have questions about how this would work? So do I. Are there answers? Not really. And that scares the bejeebers out of me. I’ve been on the Yes to Measure 2 site a few times, and the FAQ seems to be broken. (How ironic.) (As of 4 p.m. 3/20/12…the FAQ was back up and working.) And I’ll post a link to the Keep it Local group, just to be fair…although I will admit that I haven’t been on that site as much. I prefer to hear what the people behind the measure have to say, and then make my own decision. And I encourage all voters to do the same.

So post your questions, and I’ll do the legwork to answer them, best I can (including links, facts, etc.)…and if I can’t find the answer, maybe I’ll just delete this blog post and start from scratch. That seems to be the answer of the day.

Yes, the world we live in is a crazy one…and it just got a little crazier.

Calf in a cast

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What happens when a 1200-pound-plus cow steps on its newborn calf? Well, lets just say that the calf isn’t usually a winner. But in this case, the vet was called in and so far, things are looking good.

He may be wearing a cast, but it's not slowing him down!

That’s right, we have a calf in a cast. He’ll keep the cast on until the first week of April or so…and while he has his cast on, he’ll be treated to a special pen in the yard, and will spend his nights next to his mother in the barn.

Broken legs don’t happen often on the farm, but when they do, it’s important to have them heal as best as they can, so the calf can walk normally and be able to stand and regain use of the limb. And so far, this little guy seems to be doing great.

Walking around, checking out his surroundings.

So what does it cost to have a cast put on a calf? Our vet bill was right at $200. Plus a little extra time for a few weeks.

And it was a great teaching moment for the boys.

And those moments are priceless.

 

March madness…North Dakota version

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No, our March madness has nothing to do with basketball, and I’m talking brackets of a different kind…this March is madness with peewee wrestling and spring weather. And it added up to spending an afternoon digging out some water pipes.

Let’s start off with Saturday morning and early afternoon. Scooter participated in our local peewee wrestling tournament and managed to come home with a first-place medal.

The weather was so unseasonably warm, that I decided we should finish a project we had started earlier in the week. Our aging pipes had sprung a leak, which lead to a continually green patch of grass in our yard all winter. But as it was warming up, that green patch had turned to mush. We needed to work on a fix…and 70-80 degree temps in North Dakota in March is a great reason to spend some time outside, even if it is to dig a hole.

So, if we’re fixing a water pipe, one would think that you would call a local backhoe and have it done in a jiffy, right? That’s not the way we roll around here. Instead, Boss Man gave a few directions, gave us a rough outline of size, and away we went.

Me and my little sister, just digging a hole.

Yep, my little sister and I became excavators and dug out the hole that will be needed to fix our water leak. And I have to say, I’m happy with the work we did, and enjoyed spending the hour or so outside in the beautiful weather.

And today (Sunday), the weather has continued on its beautiful streak, cracking the 80 degree mark. Let’s just hope our temps stay above freezing, because all of those beautiful buds and new plants will be a hard loss to take.

Our rhubarb is up...and it's March.

By tomorrow evening, I'm guessing we'll have full-fledged leaves on our lilacs. These buds are busting at the seams!

Not a laughing matter

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A few days ago, a close friend of mine sent me a message on Facebook, directing me to a conversation that was taking place on a specialized sheep page. The message was shocking, and laughed in the face of all we’ve been doing to educate and show consumers where their food comes from…but it was far from funny:

You are a Joke! a Fraud! you can not sell meat! What you are selling is wrong! Meat comes from the grocery store meat departments where they grow it for us to eat. You are one sick individual who says you will sell lamb meat from those cute fuzzy animals! you are gross! Milk comes in a powder that the grocery stores mix with water! Why are you lying to people! you are a sick person who claims to sell meat, milk and cheese that comes from poor helpless lambs!

And no, I can’t make stuff like that up.

So why does it matter? It’s just one loon out there, shouting lies and slinging mud at whomever will listen, right?

Wrong.

One of the reasons that agriculture is being slayed in the media the way it is, is that for too long we figured that people would “get it.” That they would understand what we’re doing, why we’re doing it and just leave us alone to get the job done.

That’s not the case any more, and I don’t think it ever will be…and shouldn’t. We want people to have a connection to their plate, we want people to understand the power of their input at the grocery store. But they also need to understand that farms are businesses, we provide a product, we need to make a profit and we prepare for the future as well.

There must be a middle ground, a place where we don’t raise our voices, don’t shake our fists and don’t make it personal…I just don’t think we’re there yet. I read a comment recently that stated that farmers need to remember that they are more than just a farm, they are people, too.

Our barn is dated from when it was built. That's a history we can't forget.

But I have to say, from a farmer’s perspective, that’s pretty hard to do. It’s not just a building and some animals, this is our heritage and our family name. It’s the work of previous generations, resting on our shoulders to see it through to the next generation. And it’s up to us to be the communicators to protect not only the future, but the history of our farms as well.

The way I see it, the fact that we’re getting responses such as the loon above, and the other slew of media backlash, must mean we’re heading the right direction.

And if we’re willing to be talking, we better be willing to listen as well.

The blessings of social media

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I regularly hear people talking about the amount of time that is wasted on social media. When people ask what I do, and I tell them that I blog about our farm and our family, it’s almost as if I just told them I’m a stay-at-home mom…oh, wait…

"George" and I...towards the beginning of this journey. It's amazing the changes that have been made, to both of us.

My point is, that neither my chosen profession nor my hobby gets much respect in the real world. (You can decided which is which.) That doesn’t bother me, and for the most part, I ignore it…but last night it became very clear to me that all of my work and time “wasted” has not been in vain.

For those that have been following along a little while, you know that our youngest son, “George” on the blog, has been diagnosed with OTC. (You can read more about it on the OTC tab above.) It’s been a very crazy ride, but we’re feeling our way through, and have seen some amazing results in the last year.

But that doesn’t mean that we haven’t had problems, or that there were times when I wasn’t really sure who to turn to for answers, venting, etc.

And then I received an email. And not just any email, an email from the Executive Director of the National Urea Cycle Disorder Foundation, which just so happens to be the link I use in my blog posts describing OTC. Yeah, that’s big.

I think back to that meeting in August, almost two years ago, where I finally met JP in person. There was a round-table session where you could just sit and ask different people questions relating to social media. I sat at her table and asked if she thought that my story was worth telling (we had been “connected” through Twitter). I thought that my connections through Twitter and facebook were probably enough, maybe a blog would be too much, and maybe I didn’t have anything to really share.

With her encouragement, I started Wag’n Tales in September of 2010…and the rest, as they say, is history.

And I’m not the only one that Janice has positively influenced through social media. Just check out her latest blog post and see.

Yes, social media can take away time. It can be used for evil and wrong-doing. But when it’s used in a positive way, it can truly be life-changing…

In fact, it can be life saving.

WW – A Passion for 4H

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Sunday was the annual 4H carnival at a near-by town. Scooter was tickled pink to be a part of it, and eventually Big Bro warmed up to the idea. Check out some of the great pics!

Why yes, yes it does!

Great cake for the cake walk!

Big Bro kept playing the cake walk game until this cake was gone. He was disappointed that it didn't come home with us.

Face painting, er, arm painting booth.

Scooter wanted to help out with the face painting, but he's only 8 and I didn't think he would do a very good job. Mom was wrong, and is proud to admit it. He made this flame, with oranges and yellows, and did an amazing job. He was so incredibly focused. Thank you, 4H!

 

Walking a mile…

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During the course of the last few weeks, (and when I look back, it’s truly months) there has been a lot of air-, print- and cyber-time given to criticize our food choices. Everywhere I look, I find articles that declare that we should not eat this, definitely not that, and the latest articles declare that red meat will bring your premature demise.

Wow, that’s some tough stuff.

I wonder how this study was funded, and how they came up with participants. Did it go something like this: “Hey, would you like to eat some meat and I’ll record when you die?”

OK, I’m going overboard a bit, but can we order up a dose of common sense, please?

In a country where we boast the most freedoms in the world, we certainly do like to spend a lot of time telling everyone what they should and should not be doing. Here’s the only thing I know for certain: Don’t eat anything…and you will die prematurely. That’s a guarantee. And there are those in this world who die from that every day. And they wouldn’t bat an eye at the red meat that supposedly kills you early, or the nutritionally-sound-but-poorly-named “pink slime,” or fresh vegetables, or bagged lettuce, or whatever else we’re supposed to be afraid of on our plate.

Consumers have a right to know about their food, and a right to question the methods, geography and cost of what they put on their plates. What I don’t appreciate is mainstream media’s drive to push misleading and incorrect information to the masses. They certainly do enjoy inciting mass-hysteria, but I have yet to see them stick around for the clean-up.

In a world where we are all about conserving resources and making the most out of what we have, I’m surprised that a method of being able to save a few more pounds of healthy beef is chastised instead of celebrated. (And it really, truly is beef, not some mystery liquid.)

Here is the bottom line: if you don’t want it, don’t buy it. Simple as that. We’re living in a country where we have food choices that each person can make. But we also have to make sure that there are choices available, not just for the affluent and “foodies,” but for John Q and those that have limited budgets. And when we have sources that are nutritionally sound and more economical, why wouldn’t we use them?

It seems to me that those that are speaking the loudest, are the ones that are able to make the most choices. They don’t have to worry about feeding a family of five on less than $10 per day, they don’t know what it’s like to not have money left for food. They’ve never had to collect commodities at a local office, wondering what they were going to make with gifts they’ve been given.

And that’s a mile I pray that I never have to walk again.

The beauty of calving

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This weekend was absolutely wonderful. The weather could not have been more perfect…well, maybe a little less windy yesterday, but it was still very nice. And with nice weather came a little boom in our calving.

When the weather is nice, though, it’s a little easier. The mud isn’t fun to mess with, but thanks to the wind, it’s been drying pretty nicely.

Here’s some of my shots from the weekend. And I’ll have more on Wednesday! Enjoy!

Hmmm...My calving instincts aren't always right on, but I'm thinking something here is telling me that she needs to head to the barn.

Just another beautiful bovine.

Our lilacs are trying to tell us that it's spring.

The cousins, in a race of epic proportions!

Mom, can't I just nap here?

A case for genetic markers

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Not so long ago, I wrote a post about how George seems to enjoy coloring himself from head to toe in markers. And I don’t mean just a little bit.

For Halloween, we'll be going as Smurfs.

After turning bath water several different shades of blue, green, black and orange the last few weeks, I was beginning to think that he had some strange sort of addiction to coloring on himself. (You know, like on that show where people say they HAVE to drink nail polish, eat chalk, etc.)

Well, I may have stumbled upon the answer…it’s genetic.

It appears as though 30-some years ago, this little blonde-haired beauty decided that she rather enjoyed coloring herself as well. Although, I like to think that I pulled off the look a little better.

Yep, he came by the habit honestly. Who would have thought this scene would be replayed 30 years later? Well, and on a little grander scale.

But that’s how it works, isn’t it? The next generation tries to find a way to do it bigger and better?

A little farmer romance

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After a very long week, most people wind down with a date night with their significant other. Well, I’m still waiting for Valentine’s Day supper, but that’s nothing new. And truly, I don’t mind…that much, except when the weeks have been long ones. And this has definitely been a long one.

Since I won’t be heading out on a date night with the hubby any time soon, I thought I’d go through a flashback of some of our greatest date moments…well, at least they were memorable.

1) I do believe Boss Man holds the record for latest date ever…and it was one of our first. We were supposed to go to a movie, but I was stood up. He called me 9 hours late. Apparently he got his pickup hung up on an old house foundation in the pasture, and this was in pre-cell phone days. He ended up walking quite a distance, and then was home so late he figured it didn’t pay to call me. Because I wasn’t up waiting by the phone, wondering where he was? Right. So I can’t complain too loudly about his tendencies to run late. I’ve known from the beginning.

2) He surprised me for lunch once (and yes, I think it only happened once), when I worked in town. We took his “farm” pickup to the local drive-inn and had a great meal, and a much-appreciated break from the work day. When it was time to leave, the pickup wouldn’t start. Apparently a bolt had come loose underneath, and needed to be tightened…and he knew all this because it happened on a somewhat-regular basis. A few seconds under the truck, and we were on our way. And yes, this was before we were married. And although that pickup isn’t used any more, it’s still a great memory when I see it.

3) I vividly remember the day we went to pick up our marriage license, and the tuxedos for the wedding. In true farmer-fashion, Boss Man decided that we should kill three birds with one stone and return the manure-spreader he had rented, while running the other errands. The only problem? The manure-spreader was the furthest away, meaning that we took care of the other “things” while pulling the spreader. Our local courthouse was full of giggles, and the bridal shop attendant looked like he was going to pass out when I placed the tuxes in the back seat of Mark’s extended cab pickup. They did tell us it was the first time any type of farm equipment had pulled up in front of the shop.

Our dating life and our married life have been much the same. It’s been such a wild ride, but the laughs and the giggles make it all worth while.

And one last memory before this Friday is over. The day we were married, Boss Man showed up late for pictures. He said, “Well, I figured you could take a bunch of pictures that you didn’t need me for.” I understand the logic, but it didn’t make me any less nervous!

Then, the last picture before we walked down the aisle, a romantic shot of us behind the church, me and my cathedral-length train (what was I thinking?) and Boss Man. The photographer suggested that he dip me, and give me a kiss. How romantic! Unfortunately, dipping was not a move that we had discussed, nor practiced…and, well, see for yourself:

That's right...he dropped me.

I was most concerned about grass stains on my dress. This would be another reason not to take photos before the wedding.

Just sayin’.

Needless to say, the last decade-plus has been one interesting moment after another. I sometimes say that I wish we lived a normal life, but I’m pretty sure that’s not true. How boring would that be?