Organic Romance

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To buy or not to buy organic? That is the question.

But why does it have to be?

I thought about this question alot, while preparing this post. In fact, most of my posts are written in a very short amount of time, usually 10 minutes or less. Sometimes it’s as if the words were already there, I just needed to type them out. But not today.

As a farmer, I am proud of almost every aspect of agriculture. I truly value the organic movement, because anything we can do to continue to provide food is important. We NEED every farmer, every type, every size, to continue providing food for our world.

Over the weekend, a slideshow by WebMD was brought to my attention. At first, I was kind of excited about it…hoping it was going to put to rest some of the myths and misconceptions surrounding conventional and organic foods. But it didn’t. In fact, it went a step or two further than most articles. And I feel the need to set some “facts” straight.

1) It was stated in the slide show, that fruit and vegetables such as apples and peaches should be bought organic whenever possible, to reduce the exposure risks of pesticides.  The site said, “If you can’t afford to buy organic apples, scrubbing their skins under running water can help reduce pesticide residues, too.”

Well, to tell you the truth people, no matter where you get your apples, you should ALWAYS wash them. Period. The same is true for organic, just as it is conventionally grown fruit and veggies.

2) Directly quoted from WebMD, “According to the Organic Trade Association, livestock on an organic farm cannot be given antibiotics or growth hormones unnecessarily — a common practice in conventional agriculture. Some experts think using antibiotics this way may contribute to the rise of superbugs. And although the risk to humans isn’t clear, added hormones do show up in supermarket beef.”

Let me shed some light on what happens on our farm (since I can’t speak for everyone, but know that most follow the same type of protocol). We give antibiotics only when necessary, such as when an animal is showing sign of being sick. We would never consider giving all of our animals antibiotics on a set schedule for many reasons, including: a) cost, b) time and feasibility and c) we need those antibiotics to work when we truly need them. To say that most conventional ranchers use antibiotics unneccessarily is simply not true.

And on the hormone subject…let me break down the actual facts for you:

4 oz. beef from steer given hormones: 1.6 nanograms of estrogen

4 oz. beef from untreated steer: 1.2 nanograms of estrogen

4 oz. beef from non-pregnant heifer: 1.5 nanograms of estrogen

4 oz. raw cabbage: 2700 ng estrogen

4 oz. raw peas: 454 ng estrogen.

3 oz. soy oil: 168,000 nanograms of estrogen

3.5 oz. of soy protein concentrate: 102,000 nanograms of estrogen.

3 oz. of milk from cow given rBST: 11 nanograms of estrogen

3 oz. of milk from untreated (non-BST) cow: 11 nanograms of estrogen

Data from Foodstuffs Foodlink

Hmmm…so those extra hormones are a problem, but raw peas have 400% more estrogen in them. Perhaps we need to lay off the peas? I’m kidding, of course. That would be obsurd. Right?

3) This one I found funny. Broccoli. Yep, you should grow your own organic broccoli. Have any of you grown broccoli? I have no problem with growing your own food, even broccoli. I just appreciate the ability to choose not to. I don’t like the extra protein.

Mmmm...worms.

 
Well, those are just a few of the examples in the slide show…there are 29 slides to go through, all with varying degrees of ridiculousness. What’s funny to me is that it wraps it all up with this advice, “One thing the experts agree on: Regardless of whether you choose locally grown, organic, or conventional foods, the important thing is to eat plenty of produce. The health benefits of such a diet far outweigh any potential risks from pesticide exposure.” Oh, so the first 28 slides are supposed to make you terrified of all food not organic, and the last one says, “Eh, the risks aren’t that great, just eat.” Whew. I was worried for a minute.
 
Let’s cut to the chase. When it comes down to it: eat. Eat what you want, eat sensibly and get it from whatever source you have available. Supermarket, farmer’s market, online…just eat. If you have the desire and time to grow your own, do it. If you have the desire and time to shop farmer’s markets, do it. If you are a busy person with limited time and whatever is at the one-stop-shop is what you can grab, do it.
 
It’s time we stop making parents feel guilty for what we eat and just relish in the fact that we can feed our children. And by that, I mean HEALTHY foods, not just fast food.
 
That all being said, I respect organic farmers and see a true need for their products. There isn’t a single method of agriculture that isn’t needed for our future. I have not one problem with their product. Not one.
 
Organic farmers: thank you for all you do and the food you provide. Conventional farmers: thank you for all you do and the food you provide. WebMD: quit making me scared of the people that feed me, they’re nice.
 
I know, because I am one.

Hawaiian Farmer’s Market

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The last day we were in Hawaii, my husband and I actually took some time to walk around and enjoy the view.

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It was an amazing afternoon, and it made me wish that we had taken a little more time to enjoy our surroundings, but maybe I’ll get him back there some day? Ha!

Anyway, as we were walking along, we saw a sign for a local farmer’s market that was happening at a near-by mall. It really piqued my interest, so we walked there and headed up to the fourth floor, to check out this market.

The first thing that hit me, was that my connotations of a farmer’s market was pretty off-base. In North Dakota, a farmer’s market generally has raw goods. Tomatoes, cucumbers, pumpkins, squash, etc. At least the market’s that I have seen, that seems to be the case.

This farmer’s market was more…well, processed. There was beef jerky in packages (called “Dead Cow”…I LOVED the marketing! More on that in the future.), there was chocolate, there were prepared meals, there was doughnuts! (Or, at least something that really, really resembled a homemade doughnut, filled with cream.)

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There was one stand that had tomatoes and one stand that had abolone. But most of the others were…well, just not what I expected.

What it did do was change my way of thinking. So many people discount where food comes from, and tout their way of providing for their families as better than others, just because it’s fashionable or trendy. But the truth of the matter is, that the only thing that should matter is that you’re providing…not focusing solely on where it’s coming from.

If I eat 5 pounds of chocolate and end up gaining 40 pounds, does it matter that I purchased the product from a farmer’s market? Am I healthier because of it?

Although, I’m pretty certain those deep-fried doughnuts filled with cream were fat-free…I mean, they were homemade, so they must be good for you, right? 😉

A Matter of Fact

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Last week, a question was asked by a local news station for people to comment on. I was going to let the question slide, but then some of the comments got out of hand, and I felt the strong desire to say something. Actually, I felt the strong desire to hit someone, but common sense took over and I used my brain, not my brawn.

This was the question:

If you’re receiving federal crop insurance payments or government money as a farmer, are you a hypocrite if you’re against government subsidies?

Nice one, eh?

The funny thing is, I have no problem with the conversation taking place. And I have no problem with trying to brainstorm for better solutions. But I DO have a problem with people accusing farmers of wrong-doing, when they haven’t a clue as to how the system works to begin with.

To begin with, if you aren’t familiar with crop insurance, perhaps you should check out this link and read up on it. But to give you a quick, few-word synopsis, it boils down to this: you cannot be eligible for disaster payments if you don’t have crop insurance. That’s right, they’re intermingled. One comes with another.

So, that being said, I don’t necessarily favor government payments…but I’m not stupid. We have to protect our farm and our family from disasters, because contrary to what some say, you can’t just walk away from a natural disaster and wait for the weather to get nice and start farming again. You can lose everything in an instant.

I’m sure you’re thinking, “But Val, no one would ever think that.” Wrong.

This is a direct quote from the conversation on facebook, “As a wife of a carpenter, when the weather gets bad and he can’t work he doesn’t get paid..period…sorry if the crop was ruined due to weather, but why should you get help and us nothing? We grew up in farming families also, so we know alittle of what we are talking about.” (Name withheld to protect the…well, uneducated? I guess?)

My response was a little sharp-tongued, but served the purpose:

“Dear carpenter’s wife, I believe a more appropriate analogy would be your husband building a two-story, $300,000 house. Paying all of the inputs, including electrical work, lumber and labor, and then watching as the house burns down in a fire caused by lightning and then being told that he could try again next year. We’re not talking about being out of work for a day or two, we’re talking about losing a whole year’s worth of costs…and those bills get paid, whether the crop makes it or not. There are fewer farmers feeding more people every year. Yes, there are problems with the system and we need to make changes, and yes, there are cases of abuse, just like any industry. But we need to work together, not criticize and point fingers.”

So why am I writing this? Read the last line. We need to work together, and work towards a future that makes sure that farmers can do what they do best, and lawmakers and constituents and interest groups can all work together and make sure that there is a future to be had.

Do you understand the power that you have? Do you understand the strength of your voice? Your vote?

Please, don’t misjudge how important you are…and please, don’t shrug off such serious issues as disasters and insurance without putting some thought and time into it. Our future…all of our future…is needing some change.

And don’t be mistaken. The only one who can provide that is us.

A Tribute

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My phone rang before 6 Saturday morning. I don’t know how it works in your house, but a call after 11 or before 7 is rarely ever good news at ours.

And it wasn’t.

At the young age of 69, Kenneth Lee Brandenburger passed away from complications with cancer. He was an amazing man. He was my dad’s best friend and brother. He was my uncle.

I want to write about how unfair cancer can be…how it doesn’t discriminate based on those that live life to the fullest and those that just go along for the ride. I’d love to write about how unfair this is…but I won’t. We all know that.

But what you may not know, is just how special Kenny was.

Growing up so close to Grandma, I heard a LOT of stories about how much of a handful KennethLee was. You see, that’s how Grandma would say his name, “KennthLee.” I’m assuming that it was just habit, from yelling it so much when he was little. At least that’s my theory.

Uncle Kenny wasn't afraid to be a big kid, like showing Scooter how to play Ladder Ball.

 

My uncle decided at a young age that school was not his strong suit. Instead, working hard and working toward a goal definitely was…and he succeeded. He worked hard, played hard, and made the most of everything. But what I remember the most about Kenny was his quiet demeanor, but easy ways. And he wasn’t only my dad’s brother, he was my dad’s best friend.

In the last few years, Uncle Kenny looked so much like my Grandpa that it took my breath away. Being around him made me feel connected to Grandpa in ways that I had missed so much. He had Grandpa’s easy demeanor and quick smile…but he wasn’t completely like Grandpa.

No, Uncle Kenny definitely had a healthy dose of Grandma Vivian in him. He had a zest for life and enjoyed a good laugh. And he had a feisty streak as well.

I only got to see Uncle Kenny about twice a year, deer hunting and ice fishing. But it was always a great time.

We had a routine down…he’d arrive, I’d ask him to site in my gun (which is one that he picked out, by the way), he’d give me grief about it not making a difference because I wouldn’t hit anything anyway and so on.

Yet, when I would shoot my deer, him and Dad would come and help me dress it out. It was just our routine.

I remember when I had shot the buck that I now have mounted, I needed help because my gun had jammed and the deer was injured, but not dead. Uncle Kenny and my Dad came out and helped put the deer down. After giving me grief about nothing being wrong with my gun, I asked if they thought it was worth having mounted. Kenny simply looked at me and said I did a good job, and even he would have it mounted, if it were his.

Uncle Kenny, in the background, next to the buck I have mounted.

 

That may not seem like much, but for our upper-Midwest, German background, that was sometimes as close to a pat on the back as you would get.

And the memory that I hold most dear, when I was going through one of the roughest times of my life, my Uncle Kenny was a rock. When I couldn’t understand what was going on, or why things were happening the way they were, he kindly told me that I couldn’t change other people. He would call me and talk about things, and make sure that I understood that he was there, in a quiet, understated way. And I will be forever grateful to him for that.

I will travel to Wisconsin tomorrow to say goodbye to one of the greatest men I ever had the privilege of meeting. And as much as I look forward to visiting with family and friends, and reminiscing and sharing, my heart breaks trying to make sense of it all.

This much I know, Grandma and Grandpa Brandenburger are the lucky ones today…KennethLee is reunited with them, along with his sister, Vicki, and so many other family and friends. And as much as I miss them all, and my heart hurts so much, I can’t help but feel…well, just a little bit jealous.

I love you, Kenny.

A great man...dearly loved and sorely missed.

 

Thankful Thursday – Growth

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We have our next scheduled appointment set up for Mayo…it’ll be at the end of March. This is the longest we’ve gone without being to Mayo since October, 2009. A whopping six months between our last appointments.

That may not seem like a milestone to some, but it’s a miracle to me. I’ve gone from feeling like a frantic, over-reacting mother to feeling like a frantic, why-didn’t-I-push-sooner mother. There’s been a few moments of lucidity in between, but I’m not sure they should count.

George had more tests right after Christmas. And the wonderful news is that his thyroid function is back to normal! Yay! On this bumpy road that has become his life, I will admit that I would not have been surprised if something else would have come up amiss. It’s just the way it’s worked for us, but I’m more than happy to share the GREAT news!

After his appointment, I had to meet with the office where his medical food comes from…and it was interesting to say the least. George has packed on a few pounds, and although it’s not something I’m concerned about, apparently his stats aren’t the greatest. (His BMI is on the high side.)

She asked if I was concerned, and I tried not to laugh, really I did. What’s funny is that a year ago we finally got a clue as to what was wrong with George…a year ago we finally turned a page.

Prior to that, George looked like this:

George, summer 2009, just a few months old and at the start of this journey.

 

And this:

George, summer 2010. With his skinny little chicken arms, tiny legs and minus any fat.

 

At three months old, George was diagnosed with failure to thrive…and we could not figure out why. It took literally years of testing and throwing stuff at the wall to see what would stick. And now we have some solid footing, a plan and more importantly, we have weight…and happiness.

And I’m not messing with it.

Nope, I’m enjoying every roll, every chubby cheek, every ounce. I understand that his “medical food” is given to him through juice or applesauce, neither low in calories, but I have plenty of time to worry about diet changes once we have his diet down.

Because, for once in his life, George looks like his brothers:

A very Merry Christmas indeed!

 

His cheeks are filled out, his arms are strong, there is no longer skin sagging on his chest. He has a baby belly, his legs have rolls and he wears one size larger than his age. He plays by himself and with his brothers, he no longer has balance issues and he’s quick to laugh, hug and kiss.

And there isn’t a BMI statistic in the world that counts that in its measurement.

It only takes a spark…

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Today has been a banner day, but not always in a good way. I’ve been happy, I’ve been sad, I’ve been frustrated and I’ve been downright ticked…and that was all before noon! Actually, today’s emotions had a lot to do with social media and perceptions.

To begin with, McD’s has launched a campaign called #MeetTheFarmers. It’s all about improving their image, after some pretty damaging stuff has been spread like wildfire throughout the internet world. Now, I don’t blame them one bit…I do have to agree that it’s about time we take responsibility for our own actions, including what we put in our mouths.

But what I don’t like is the impression that McD’s is doing something cutting edge by introducing farmers to their consumers. It’s something that’s been going on for years, and it doesn’t take a marketing genius or billion dollar budget to accomplish.

I’m all for the interaction, and welcome the conversations that are starting because of it…and I’m hoping and praying that the trend continues. But remember, these conversations have been going for quite some time now, and many have started without the big-name push.

For example:

  • A dairy farmer in Alabama…a true salt-of-the-earth type of guy, with a great family and an uncanny ability to make a song about cow poop sound catchy.
  • A Prairie Mama in North Dakota, who I had the pleasure of meeting through social media, and shudder to think of what my life would now be without her. Who tells the story of ag from a first-hand view, yet has spent enough time in the corporate world that she makes it seem so polished and effortless. She has connected Rockin’ Rural Women from across the country. Not only is she an inspiration, but her mother is as well, blogging from the farm and bringing the outside world a little closer to the field…truly connecting the farm to the plate.
  • A busy mom, with 3 Kids and Lots of Pigs, who took an idea and ran with it, and turned it into a GREAT way to connect women and introduce others to life on the farm.
  • A dairy mom, who recently had baby #3, writes a great blog and is willing to step out of the box and do unheard of things…like sell a pig on Twitter.

I could go on…the list would probably be in the hundreds. People, farmers, that I’ve met and make it a priority to share their story, and the story of agriculture, with others through social media.

And they do it without an endorsement deal, they do it without promised reimbursement and they do it out of passion and love for an industry that provides them a great way of life and a lifestyle that many could only dream about.

No, it may not be the golden arches, but I’m confident that although #MeetTheFarmer may be a trending topic on Twitter, the connections that are made will continue to grow and be built through the hard work of dedicated producers.

I’d bet a Big Mac on it.

Wordless Wednesday – Christmas Break

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Great Christmas celebrations!

 

EJ lost a fingernail during a Christmas-gift-opening incident. Let's just say that it involved a concrete floor, knee-high boots and a hand. Needless to say, the fingernail was ripped completely out and EJ's days of being a hand model are over. Just when you thought you had your child's future planned. 😉

 

Scooter turned 8 on New Year's Eve. A tough time to have a party, that's for sure.

 

Grandpa tried to convince Scooter that he should share his birthday gifts...at least the cash ones!

The Unknown Christmas Gift

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It seems like Christmas was ages ago, although a full month hasn’t even passed yet. The weeks before and after were so filled with activities and birthdays and trips and doctor’s appointments and all things crazy, that I didn’t even have time to digest it all.

Scooter and Big Bro, reading together. Scooter celebrated his 8th birthday New Year's Eve...EJ turned 5 Jan. 12. It's been a busy birthday/Christmas/holiday/vacation time!

 

But that’s usually when the really good stuff happens, and you don’t even know about it until later.

At least, that’s the way it works in my life.

The week before Christmas, I took my mom to Fargo for an eye appointment. Since we were already in town, we stayed up for a special Christmas party for children with special health concerns. It was George’s first time ever meeting Santa, and he was so enthralled with the big bushy-haired man. (I actually think he thought it was his dad!)

It didn’t dawn on me until after Christmas break was just about done that I had forgotten to send a Christmas gift to school with the boys for their teachers. When it hit me, I apologized to the boys immediately and promised to send them back to school with something for each teacher.

They told me not to worry about it…they had it covered.

They knew I was busy, and the day that I was gone to Fargo, they each took a book from the book orders that we placed and gave them to their teachers. Not only a gift to the teacher, but a gift to the whole class as well.

I tried to pretend that I wasn’t moved to tears, and thanked them both for being so thoughtful.

Sometimes I worry about raising boys in these times. Sometimes I worry that I’m not doing a good job, or that I’m doing something wrong.

But then sometimes I wonder how I became such a lucky mother, to have not one, but four amazing children gifted to me by God.

The power of one

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Yikes. Here is is, January 16, and I’m submitting my first post for 2012. Apparently the craziness of the season got ahead of me, and life snowballed. Hard to imagine, right?

I received a wake-up call today. It was kind of like God tapping me on the shoulder and reminding me why I write. It was a reminder of the power of one.

In case you haven’t heard about it, a mother of a child with developmental delays was “supposedly” told that her daughter would not qualify for a life-saving kidney transplant due to her “mental retardation.” (I’m using quotes, because the hospital has stayed mum on the issue, and although I don’t for one minute doubt the mother’s account of what happened, my journalistic instincts are to leave the guilty/not-guilty part up to the parties involved.)

And that’s where the power of one comes in.

To tell you the truth, I’m pretty sure if that was my situation, I would be facing criminal charges for pummeling a physician. But that’s just me. And then I would have done exactly what this mother did…I would have wrote about it.

She wasn’t expecting it to go viral. She wasn’t expecting the public outcry to almost shut down the hospital’s facebook page. She wasn’t expecting the attention. She was just getting the thoughts and information presented to them off her chest, wrote down somewhere where she could analyze them, and share with others going through similar situations. She wasn’t expecting any of this…but I would have.

You see, I understand completely the power of one. All it takes is one word, one sentence, one blog…and you can make a difference in the world.

And by doing so, this mother may have very well saved her child’s life. And children for generations to come.

All it took was one.

(If you’re interested in the original blog post, follow this link…but warning, it’s likely to tick you off.)

Preparing for calving

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I had been tossing around the idea of doing a post like this for a while now, but never actually wrote it out. But after a dear friend sent someone my direction today for this type of information, I decided that I better get to typing while the juices were flowing.

(Sorry if there are many typos…my desktop is in the shop, and my new keyboard for my new iPad is a tad tough to get used to!)

Anyway, I was asked what kind of things are needed to get ready for calving season, from a new farmwife, getting ready to embark on her first calving season. And since we are just about a month away from calving on our own farm, I thought this was a timely topic. So here’s my calving top 10 list (and please remember, this is a great list for my farm…each operation has their own way of doing things, but this is what works for us):

1) Figure out your schedule ahead of time. Write down appointments, meetings, etc. Make sure that you are both on the same page. That way, if you’re taking night checks (like I do), you can start getting ready for it by going to bed a little earlier. No need to go into calving season already tired and worn out. That’ll come soon enough!

2) Have a working (and effective) alarm clock! The first few nights of getting up every two hours isn’t a problem for me…but the last few weeks seem to be pretty rough. If my alarm clock isn’t obnoxious, I’ll sleep right through it, which can be bad news for a new calf born in subzero temps!

3) Get a good set of walkie-talkies. Charge them. Use them. In our area, cell phones don’t always have the best of signals, especially in the barn. Walkie-talkies can be a God-send. But only if they’re working! 😉 (It also helps if the other party has theirs on them…and on. Right dear?)

4) Have the vet’s number in your phone. And posted near the door. And have the phone readily available…and charged. Hmm…I seem to be speaking from experience, eh? Anyway, there’s nothing worse than searching for the vet’s number at a ridiculous hour…and then realizing you don’t have a phone nearby anyway!

5) Be prepared. Have your supplies on-hand ahead of time, and readily accessible. That includes: calving sleeves, lube, pulling chain, rope, warming box, milk replacer, colostrum, ear tags, ear tag marker, calving record book, baseball bat and whatever else your vet may suggest or request.

 

We have one of these for every calving season, since 1988.

 

 

6) Be prepared for the weather. In our area, we generally have very cold temps and snow. Although this year, we’re going into 2012 with no snow on the ground and above average temperatures! Yay! My calving wardrobe includes a set of Carhartt coveralls (purple, in fact), a pair of Muck boots and a good set of gloves, various hats and a scarf. A good pair of coveralls makes bundling up at 2 a.m. a little less painful, and a good pair of boots make sure my feet stay dry and toasty. Both are very important to me!

7) Have some meals ready ahead of time. Freeze lasagna, have some pizzas on stand-by, whatever is appealing to you. Soups, chili, snacks…and hide some, so when you think you’re out, you have an emergency stash. Unless your husband takes that as some kind of personal challenge to find your hidden treasures, then you’ll go into your stash and come up with empty wrappers. Kids are good for that, too.

8) Don’t forget to pay bills. Set them up on auto-pay, set your cell phone to send you a reminder, whatever may be. Sometimes calving season can seem a little crazy and hectic, and sometimes the days kind of meld into one another. You’ll look at the calendar and realize that a week has gone by…and perhaps you should shower. (Just kidding!)

9) Don’t forget to take time for yourself. Yes, it’s a crazy time, but it’s amazing to watch the new calves playing, watch a heifer loving up on her first-born calf, and experience all the craziness that comes with calving. But you can’t forget to spend a moment or two snuggled on the couch, watching the news before you both fall asleep; enjoy a warm meal together, even if it’s something as simple as warmed-up pizza; and take a moment whenever you can, to thank God for all you’ve been given. I’m going to double up on that last one this year…I couldn’t thank Him enough for the gifts of 2011.

Our cows are normally red...not snow covered!

 

10) Don’t forget to pack your patience. It’ll be tested. When everyone is tired, no one is getting a good nights sleep and tempers are running hot, even the silliest of missteps can set off some fireworks. But just remember, this too shall pass. And before you know it, life will be back to “normal.” Whatever “normal” is.