Tag Archives: future farmer

Roadtrip

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We are on the road again. We will be in Rochester sometime this evening, for doctor appointments the next few days. I know George isn’t a big fan of the trips, so it’ll be interesting.

I’m still going to try to blog every day. Had I been far enough ahead with all of this, I would have had my blogs ready to roll before we left, but that’s never worked out so well for me! If I plan far enough in advance, something always falls through. Oh well, our lives are exciting to say the least!

Spring has decided to play games with us, and winter has once again reared its ugly head. It’s snowing now again, as we speak. Yuck. I’m ready for sunshine and green grass, but maybe that will be here when we get back? One can always hope.

Here’s a few pics of EJ being helpful and shoveling our sidewalk. Love his enthusiasm!

Not what you want to see in April!

 

EJ love the "shubel" that Grandma B. gave him for Christmas! Maybe next year we will get him a snowblower.

Here it is, Ag Book of the Day 10:

“Little Star…Raising Our First Calf” by Twins Rianna and Sheridan Chaney. It’s a great story about twin girls and their experiences on the farm. I love how they define words in children’s terms at the back of the book. For example, “Manure – A fancy name for cow poop.” The pictures are great, and my kids love to see other kids involved in agriculture. Kindred souls, I guess.

Little Star... Raising Our First Calf First in a new children's agricultural book series. Rianna and Sheridan Chaney hope their experiences on the farm will help children understand the importance of farm animals and inspire them to appreciate all of God's creatures

Fabulous flannel – Ag Book of the Day 2

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Today is Flannel Shirt Day at my boys’ school. I didn’t send them to school in flannel, because they decided they didn’t like wearing it a few years ago, and they are both at the age that they can decide what they want to wear, to an extent.

But I promised yesterday that I would give my Ag Book of the Day choices through the month of April, since it is Cultivating Reading Month at the school. Here is today’s pick:

It is “Good Morning, Farm!” by Catherine Nichols. It’s a Level 1 Reader from DK Readers, and it happens to feature mostly John Deere equipment. I like this book because it has real pictures, it includes many different types of farming (orchards, honey, milk, pigs, chickens, vegetables, grain, etc.) and it’s short and sweet and easy to read.

Enjoy!

Industrial-sized love

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Yesterday, I overheard…hmmmm…over-read?…What would you call it if you caught a tweet that wasn’t directed TO you, but was about you? Well, anyway, that happened.

Someone claimed that a majority of farmers/ranchers involved in social media are “industrial ag.” (Particularly those that have ever participated in a Tuesday-night Twitter chat called #agchat.) I took offense to that. I’ve participated in several of these “chats,” where questions are asked and answered. No one claims to be an expert, no one claims to have all the answers, it’s just a discussion. The point is to connect the consumer to the producer. Sounds great, right?

Well, apparently someone off in cyber-world doesn’t want this conversation to take place. Perhaps it’s someone who enjoys causing trouble, or someone who profits from discontent. But when you accuse me and my friends of being something we’re not, you better back up your accusations with specific definitions, numbers, acres, parameters, etc.

I asked this particular person what “industrial ag” meant. And of course, received no response. Apparently throwing out terms and accusations is enough. Planting seeds of doubt seems to be the game, while we’re all busy planting real seeds…you know, the kind that feed the people who question our motives.

So, I’ve decided to delve into the definition of industrial ag, and see if I can come up with my own answers. I know quite a few people who have participated in the #agchat conversation on Twitter, and they have operations very similar to mine. So let’s get started:

Industrial – definition –

adjective

  1. having the nature of or characterized by industries
  2. of, connected with, or resulting from industries
  3. working in industries
  4. of or concerned with people working in industries
  5. for use by industries: said of products

noun

  1. a stock, bond, etc. of an industrial corporation or enterprise: usually used in pl.
  2. Rare a person working in industry
  3. a form of dance music characterized by pulsating rhythms, fragmented vocal lines, and distorted electronic sounds including urban sound effects

OK, so the definition doesn’t tell me much. I mean, according to the definition, anyone involved in agriculture is industrial…because we’re involved in the industry. But I don’t think that’s the connotation that was shot for when the comment was made. So let’s look at the operation:

They're oldies, but goodies.

Perhaps our state-of-the-art, vintage methods of combining our crops make us industrial?

This is the house I grew up in.

My house

Or maybe it was the silver-spoon I was raised with?

Future Farmer

EJ already knows he has big shoes to fill!

Or maybe it’s our hired men…there are four of them, you know. They don’t get paid much, but their benefits are extraordinary!

It takes all types...of equipment, that is.

Maybe it’s our specialized equipment we use?

Great us of advertising!

I took this ad out of the middle pages of a farm magazine, because EJ wanted to farm it.

Or the land we farm?

Little brother (George), looking up to his big brother, wanting to farm, just like him.

But I’m guessing it’s none of these things. I’m guessing that the reason people are casting doubts on our industry, and those of us doing what we can to protect and promote this way of life that we love, is that we’re cutting into their bottom line. Casting doubt on agriculture and spreading fear and lies about food, fuel and fiber is big business. And if we’re putting some of those questions and fears to rest, then we’re putting some people out of business.

I guess I might get a little cranky about that too.

If YOU have any questions about your food, fuel or fiber, feel free to ask! I’ll do what I can to answer, show you how we do it, explain why, whatever it may be. And if I can’t answer, I have friends across the world, involved in every aspect of agriculture, that are more than willing to do the same.

We have an industrial-sized love for agriculture…and we LOVE to share!

Cultivating the future

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I love my school.

Now, to clarify, I don’t ALWAYS feel that way, but who ever does? My sons attend the school that I graduated from…in 1995. In fact, they have had some of the same teachers that I had. Talk about a strange feeling, sitting across from your first-grade teacher, talking about your son! I still can’t call any of them by their first names.

This month is reading month. The theme??? Cultivating Reading. WOOHOO!

The whole month is focused on farming, agriculture, animals, etc. What a great opportunity! And you can bet I’m going to do my best to maximize it!

My plan is to shine the spotlight on a favorite ag book of ours, at least a few times a week. Now, as a disclaimer, I haven’t received approval or monetary donations from any of the authors…in fact, they haven’t a clue that I’m even doing this. I don’t know any of them personally (at least, not to my knowledge). But these are books that my family loves, and that we read together.

I’m an avid reader. I LOVE to read. I received a Kindle for Christmas and have already put over 100 books through it. (Hmmm…I may need to seek help.) I’ve been trying to instill in my children the same love of books, and so far, so good. Let’s hope it keeps rolling that way!

Today at school was “Hats off to books!” Day…or Hat Day. Scooter wore one of Boss Man’s farm caps, Big Bro wore a Cat-In-The-Hat hat. It was a Monday, and they were excited about school. Who could ask for more?

My book of the day?

It’s a great farm safety book, and one that we’ve read TONS of times! Plus, many county Farm Bureau’s sponsor safety days or safety camps, that reiterate what is taught in the book. It covers everything from ATV’s to cows to grain bins.

Do you have a favorite that you think I should check out? Something you’d like to see a spotlight on? I’d love to get more farm-favorite story books in our ever-expanding library! Tomorrow is Flannel Shirt Day – “Every which way with books.”

April is going to be a GREAT month!

Battle weary

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It’s been one of those days. You know, the type of day where you just can’t wait to crawl into bed, knowing that when you open your eyes, at least it will be a different day?

Tonight, let me focus on the problem we HAVE NOT gotten rid of yet (check here and here for reminders as to what’s been going on)…and that would be deer. That’s right, they’re still here. And for argument’s sake, let’s just say the number is 500.

 

The deer are dying in and on our feed supply for our cattle.

Boss Man is trying to put plans in place so that we’re able to be better prepared for next year. Apparently this year is a loss. We will never get back what the hay was worth that has been destroyed. (Think in the terms of multiple thousands.) There is nothing we can do about that. So we need to move ahead.

 

He spoke with North Dakota Game and Fish today. They are less than receptive to assisting. According to them, we have been uncooperative. By uncooperative, they mean that we were not interested in the only plan that they came up with. This “plan” was to wrap our bales with a plastic wrap, that would supposedly deter the deer from eating our hay.

Every person we have spoken to regarding the plastic wrap has claimed that it does NOT work. Not only are there problems with the wrap coming undone, or stacks falling over, but remember that we’re trying to sell our hay that is salvageable. That means that we would have to wrap and unwrap bales each time we were moving or grinding hay. We would also have to dispose of the wrap as we were using the hay.

Another concern we had with the hay wrap was that once the deer made our yard their winter habitat, without STRONG encouragement, they would still be in our yard, just forced to feed with our cattle. The deer are a danger to our herd, just by being in their feed supply. But the danger would be even greater if they were nose-to-nose and feeding out of the same bunk.

So, by trying to protect our livestock, while still being conscientious of the wildlife, we are now deemed uncooperative. Thank you.

Tonight, Mark decided to be proactive and try to call some of the neighboring landowners, making them aware of what the problem is, and asking if we could all be more receptive to allowing hunters access to prime hunting land.

The first call was to a “neighbor” who happens to own a hunting lodge and guide service. He basically thanked my husband for ruining his evening, told him not to tell him how to run his business and hung up the phone.

Most of the other phone calls went very well. Most people understand what the problem is, and are willing to do what they can to help. Here’s hoping that they remember next fall.

Here’s what I’d like to remind Game and Fish: this isn’t just another hay yard, another complaining farmer, another “problem” that they’d rather not deal with. This is MY hay yard, MY herd and MY sons’ futures. I have four boys that I hope have the opportunity to continue to make this farmstead their home, and continue to live and prosper in North Dakota.

I hope and pray it’s not just a dream.

And by the way, if you’re looking for a place to hunt this coming fall, I can hook you up…bring your family, your friends and your neighbors!

The doctor is in

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It has been a little over a month since we were finally clued in to what was going on with George. It’s been a few weeks of trying to find our groove, feeling our way along and doing lots, and lots, and lots of research.

What I found hasn’t been all that encouraging, but if you are prepared for the worst, than anything above that is excellent…right? And either way, having some idea as to what is going on is WAY better than fighting some unknown. Trust me on that one.

I have spent countless hours on the phone, trying to figure out the logistics of George’s “medical food” (which has been an absolute nightmare), arranging for our emergency care plan (hopefully it will get old and dusty and never need to be used!),  and educating quite a few medical personnel on a rare condition called ornithine transcarbamylase deficiency. (If I had a nickel for every time I was asked to spell that this week…)

But, with the bad comes the good. George has had a GREAT week…and we’ve added another word to his vocabulary!  He now says, “More,” while signing it. It’s GREAT!

Because I’ve been asked a lot about it, I’m going to give you a quick run-down on OTC. Here are the facts:

  • OTC is a rare metabolic disorder, usually genetically inherited through the mother
  • OTC affects the body’s ability to get rid of ammonia, which is a by-product of breaking down protein. Since the body can’t get rid of the ammonia, the levels increase in the blood, causing the most damage to the brain.
  • High-stress episodes can cause the ammonia level to spike, things that we need to watch for, and seek immediate treatment for, are: fever of 101 or higher, vomitting, lethargy, hyperactivity, etc.
  • Treatment includes immediate IV fluids during episodes to lower the ammonia levels, low-protein diet, and sometimes medications. (The low-protein diet will be life-long. Although, as he grows, we should be able to add in more protein. Right now we are at only 9-10 grams of protein per day. The “medical food” provides the rest of the essential amino acids that are needed to grow and sustain life.)
  • The only “cure” is a liver transplant, which is a drastic step, to say the least.

If we follow the diet, make sure George takes his supplement, and are very diligent during times of illness, George should have a very normal life, sans meat. So that’s what we’ll do. (You can read more here.)

I will admit, though, that this week has not been easy for me. I’ve been in a bit of a dark place these last few days. The weather, lack of sleep, lack of interaction with others, fear, anxiety, anger…you name it, it’s hit me. But I promise this week will be better.

It’s up to me to make it so.

New perspective

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We are entering a new ballgame here at the Wagner Farm. One I never expected to have to face, but can’t wait to see the results!

Our youngest son seems to have a condition that doesn’t allow him to breakdown proteins. The solution to this problem, at this time, is to limit his protein intake. Quite an interesting situation for a cattle family, to say the least. But, in the true sense of making lemonade out of lemons, I look forward to the road we’re going down. I can’t wait to see what I can learn!

Don’t get me wrong, my family will not become vegans, and I have no intention of changing our way of life, but everything will be done from a whole new perspective.

Now, I have always been one to understand that there are people in this world who make choices based on true science, medical advice and thorough research. I respect and admire those people and understand completely why they make the choices that they make.

On the other hand, there is an even larger group of people that prey on fear, sling mud and use emotion and distorted information to support their cause, and feel free to spread their misinformation around the cyberworld. Those are the people that I hope to refute.

We raise cattle…and we do a good job, if I do say so myself. We also raise corn, soybeans, wheat and alfalfa/grass hay. (And for the moment, we appear to be raising a pretty darn good crop of deer…much to our dismay.) Having a child that cannot consume these products, or at least only in extremely limited quantities, changes my perspective quite a bit…and that’s a good thing.

I find no fault with someone who makes a decision to elminate a product that I raise out of their diet for the benefit and well-being of their health, or in this case, a child’s health. When that decision is made based on the argument that I’m not caring enough for my animals…that’s where we part ways.

Care to join me on this new adventure? It’s gonna be a wild ride!

Ray of hope

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We had another appointment at Mayo yesterday. For the first time ever, I feel as if we left with a clear vision…a plan, if you may.

In December, George went through a test that checked the level of orotic acid in his urine. Apparently this acid level becomes high when you are unable to break down proteins. Having a high level of orotic acid can also lead to having a high level of ammonia in your blood. High levels of ammonia can cause a host of other problems that George does not need to deal with, and will more than likely lead to IV’s and hospitalizations.

So, the only way to keep his orotic acid level lower is to limit his intake of protein. Yep, that’s right, George can’t eat meat.

Well, I shouldn’t say “can’t.” He can eat SOME protein, just not much. We are limited to 9 or 10 grams of protein per day. And let me tell you, that’s not much.

For example, one cup of 1% milk contains 8 grams of protein, 1/4 cup mozzarella cheese contains 7 grams protein, a slice of bread contains between 2 and 5 grams of protein, a 4 oz. hamburger patty contains roughly 28 grams of protein, a large egg contains 6 grams protein. Check your labels, you’ll be amazed at what has protein in it.

As difficult as it will be for me to switch up my cooking and meal preparation, the great news is that by changing his diet, George will feel better, should catch up developmentally and hopefully no permanent damage has been done.

See, if we hadn’t been persistent in making sure they were checking out the possibilities, there’s a really great chance that this could have been missed. In fact, the first time they suggested testing his orotic acid, the doctor specifically said that she didn’t suspect anything would show up. Then, when it did, she figured the test was a fluke and that the second test wouldn’t be high. And then, when THAT one was, she suggested that we run the allipurinol test, but didn’t know if we needed to rush on it. Since we were already at Mayo, I encouraged her to go through with the scheduling. That was December, and here we are now.

Now, sometimes they don’t catch these deficienicies until there are very significant delays. And for the most part, George doesn’t have any significant delays…at least none that would normally raise any flags. But the fact that we are able to get ahead of this and hopefully prevent anything catastrophic from happening…well, that’s big.

So now, we sit and wait and see how it goes. We should be getting a shipment of his “medical food” sometime this morning. (Since milk is pretty well out of the question, we’ll now be on a special formula to replace it. It’s amazing the stuff they have out there!)

We head back to Mayo in April to recheck everything and see where we’re at, but I’m confident that we’ll have some big things to share. And I can’t wait!

Now, don’t get me wrong, the irony of a cattle producer’s son who can’t eat meat isn’t lost on me. But when you’re a parent, you quickly learn that you will do whatever is best for your child…no matter what.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Every parent’s nightmare

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I apologize for a few days of silence…again. But, as a parent of small children, I just go where life takes me. This week, it took me to a place I never care to go again.

I’m going to replay my Tuesday, Jan. 18, 2011…more for a written memory for George, than anything. That way, when he’s a teenager and I’m wondering why I’m completely gray, I can look back at this blog and pinpoint the exact date each gray hair appeared. On Tuesday, approximately 57 of them popped in…actually, it was probably Wednesday.

Tuesday started out as a regular day. The weather was kind of bad, and the roads weren’t in the best of shape, so Mark ended up taking the boys into town to meet the bus. (Yep, in the tractor, isn’t Midwest life grand???)

George was to have the child-development/speech therapist come do her weekly visit that morning, but with the roads the way they were, we decided to push it back until after lunch. When she got here, we played a bit, but George wasn’t himself. After about 45 minutes, we talked about his upcoming Mayo trip and our plans for the future.

After she left, I planned on giving the boys a snack, then laying George down for a nap. Well, he dozed off while eating his snack, so I let him rest in his highchair for about 45 minutes. Thanks to EJ, he woke up with a start, but seemed a little better and wanted to play a bit. About an hour later, he was standing in the kitchen, when all of a sudden he just dropped to the floor. He cut open his lip and cried a bit, but I put a cold wash cloth on it and thought I would just keep a closer eye on him.

(One of our on-going issues has been his lack of balance at times. He has a tendency to run into things and bruise himself, but this was the first time that he just flat-out dropped.)

About 4 p.m., George seemed really cranky again, and very out-of-sorts, so once the boys got off the bus, I laid him on the couch to watch a cartoon for a bit. I thought he would rest a few minutes, and then be in a better mood. He dozed off, so I went to the dining room table to fold laundry. At about 5:30, I heard a noise that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I will never forget it as long as I live.

I ran into the next room and saw him lying on the couch, completely blue, stiff as a board, foam coming out of his mouth, eyes staring blankly into space. I grabbed him and ran into the bathroom, grabbing the phone on my way, dialing 911.

Now, before you think I jumped the gun, let me tell you that I am familiar with seizures. Big Bro has epilepsy and takes medicine for it. He had grand mal seizures from the age of 6 months until he turned 2 1/2. He would have seizures out of the blue, without rhyme nor reason, and they would sometimes last 3 or more minutes. But it wasn’t like this. Something told me that we needed help.

As I was talking to the dispatcher, I swept his mouth, making sure that he hadn’t accidentally swallowed something, or wasn’t choking, etc. As I was talking to her, (about 5 minutes had past) he seized again, this time more violently, and lasting longer. (Although, still probably only 2 minutes, but at this point, time seems irrelevant.)

It dawned on me that Mark didn’t know what was going on, and although he was feeding cows, he would probably be somewhat alarmed to be notified of the ambulance showing up by watching it come down the driveway. So I went into the kitchen, dialed his number on my cell phone and had Big Bro tell him that he needed to get to the house NOW, because the ambulance was coming for George.

Now, at this point in time, I’m beginning to come apart a little bit. I was doing my best to keep things together, but I had a feeling in my gut that things weren’t good. I had been finishing up supper, I had three boys that I was trying to keep calm and in the other room, and I had a little one that needed some serious intervention.

That’s when I noticed that he was starting to feel very, very warm. Mark finally got into the house, and since he had just come from outside, I handed him George, thinking that it would help cool him off. I grabbed the thermometer and took his temp, 103.8. At that point, we decided to lay him on the washing machine in the entry way, since it was the coolest room in the house. George was making noise, and moving his head somewhat, but his arms and legs were still very stiff.

When the ambulance arrived, the staff checked him over and assessed him the best they could. It was a consensus that he probably had a febrile seizure, but that I should call his pediatrician first, before they left, to make sure that he was OK with us keeping him home.

He wasn’t.

With George’s history, nothing is ever as easy as it seems, including seemingly innocent febrile seizures. (Which, by the way, aren’t all that uncommon, but still scare the beejeezus out of any parent.) So George and I headed to the hospital.

On the way down, George’s O2 sats would drop to the high-80’s, prompting him to get a nice blow-by of oxygen. (The friendly EMT is actually a old family friend, and he made a comment about meeting our deductible early this year, to which I replied, “We met our deductible about 10 miles back.”)

When we arrived in the triage unit, the doc met us immediately and ordered blood work, chest x-ray and then some tylenol to bring down the temp. At this point, it was already down to 102.9, but we tried the tylenol, which promptly came back up, and all over everything. (Note to self, next time just do the suppository first.)

The strep fast-test came back positive, prompting a night’s stay for observation and some antibiotics (at first prescribed orally, until I reminded them about the whole tylenol fiasco). I remember the ER physician remarking that we would be home in the morning, “unless something else happens, then you may have to have a spinal tap done, but don’t worry, it won’t.” I hate it when doctors say that.

We were checked into our room, met a wonderful nurse named Sarah, and proceeded to get ready for the night. (It was about 11:30 now.) Just as she came into the room to give another dose of tylenol, she checked his temp (100.9) and he began to seize again. Things moved pretty fast then. Two more nurses were promptly in the room with the push of one of those scary buttons, oxygen was administered, as well as suction prepared in case it was needed.

In all, the third seizure lasted less than 30 seconds, but it was enough to make me realize that we weren’t just dealing with a fever. 100.9 is barely considered a fever, let alone something that should make someone break their seizure-threshold. (Something I learned when dealing with Big Bro’s epilepsy: Everyone has a seizure-threshold. Most people have very high thresholds…meaning that it takes quite a bit to induce a seizure. People with epilepsy have lower thresholds…meaning that little things can cause the same reaction.)

After things settled down, the pediatrician was called. The ER doc was right…at 12:30 Wednesday morning George had a CT scan, followed by a spinal tap at 2 a.m. It was decided that we would begin treatment for meningitis immediately. According to pediatrician, meningitis is one of those diseases that if suspected, you treat for it while waiting for test results. We would be in the hospital for 48 hours minimum.

Well, long story short, we were released Thursday evening. All blood tests came back negative and the spinal tap came back all-clear. It was decided that George’s seizures are related to his complicated neurological/pituitary/growth hormone/something-or-another whatever they’re calling it now. We’ll head back to Mayo on Tuesday and see where we go from here.

He’s been treated with enough antibiotics to kill off any unsuspecting bug in his system…with which I’ve tried to come back with yogurt, to help out his poor guts and bottom. And so far, we’re doing good.

I probably didn’t need to call the ambulance…but it wasn’t a risk I was willing to take. I’m sure most parents understand where I’m coming from on that note.

I’m now a little leery about putting him to bed. I watch him carefully during naps. I check his temp frequently. I’m sleep-deprived and struggling to keep up…but someday I will look back on these days, not all that fondly, and just be glad that we made it through.

I was talking things over with my sister-in-law, and she’s right, we are blessed. Yes, George seems to have some problems that they can’t figure out, but so far, you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him. We’re very lucky. It could be so much worse.

Little brother (George), looking up to his big brother, wanting to farm, just like him.

And for that, I thank God for all that we have been given…we’ll take tomorrow as it comes.

Lessons from home

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I was watching EJ today at lunch, and it dawned on me that he has a lot in common with the people that I’m trying to reach and educate about animal agriculture. Bet you’re wondering what in the world am I talking about, eh?

Well, it went something like this:

Me: “EJ, would you like a grilled cheese for lunch?”

EJ: “No mom, me no like grilled cheese.”

M: “Well, what are you going to have for lunch?”

EJ: “Ummm…can I just have some of that (pointing at bread), with that (pointing at cheese) and that (pointing at butter).”

M: “Do you want it cold or cooked?”

EJ: “Cook it up, please.”

M: “Are you sure you don’t just want a grilled cheese?”

EJ: “No, Mom, me don’t like it.”

Yeah, right.

So, instead of having a grilled cheese for lunch, EJ had a sandwich with butter on the outside, cheese in the middle, and cooked in the frying pan. Who am I to argue?

EJs sandwich

No matter what you think, this is NOT a grilled cheese, just ask EJ.

That’s when the light bulb came on for me. Perhaps EJ just doesn’t understand exactly what makes up a grilled cheese, maybe he doesn’t get that I put just as much care and thought into making a grilled cheese as I do his other oddly-similar-to-a-grilled-cheese creation. But then again, he’s only 3, so chances are he’s just be stubborn and acting like a child.

But the same can be said for those that oppose animal agriculture. Maybe they don’t understand what is really happening on the farm, which is why I’m out here, in cyber-world, inviting questions, comments, showing videos, etc., trying to teach those that don’t know, what actually happens on the farm.

Maybe they don’t understand just how much of their day-to-day supplies and activities rely on those of us in agriculture…and not just animal agriculture, but all of farming. (If you’d like to take a look, you can check out some information on beef here: http://fitperez.com/2010-10-26-interesting-picture or here: http://www.beef.org or on agriculture here: http://www.csrees.usda.gov/index.html)

Maybe once there are more farmers/ranchers/agriculturalists out in the public’s eye, maybe then there will be fewer insults and ridicule, and more trust and compassion.

Or maybe some are just acting like children.