Tag Archives: why blog

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!

Interesting tidbit

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Guess what’s the top-searched phrase that leads people to my blog? Nope, that’s not it, keep guessing.

Let’s just say that this little piece of information took me by surprise, but it’s got me excited about the opportunity.

The term that is searched the most and brought to my blog is….drum roll please…”humane society of the united states.”

Yep, you could have knocked me over with a feather. I mean, I talk about HSUS and my dislike for the organization as a whole, but it’s not a tag or a category that I use. Yet time and time again, that phrase brings people to my virtual doorstep!

What an opportunity!

So, to take this chance, let me tell you a thing or two about HSUS (or the Humane Society of the United States). They are NOT connected to your local shelter, at least not financially. According to several sources, less than one-half of one percent of their enormous budget trickles down to any hands-on animal care shelters. Yep, they don’t put their money into actual animals, just talking about them.

What they DO like to do is come into states, such as North Dakota, and tell people what it is they should care about. They twist words and play on emotions and make people afraid of the one thing they should trust in, that their food is safe, sustainable and abundant.

They spend ridiculous amounts of money on advertising and lobbying, in an effort to promote a meat-free future. They put forward money to help pass laws, such as California’s Prop B, but then seem to be missing in action when it comes to clean up the mess and figure out how to enforce a law that was passed by people that didn’t comprehend the science behind the practice to begin with.

Yep, the traffic that’s directed my way from that searched phrase is a blessing. I may be given just a word or two, or a sentence or two, or a paragraph or two to help shed some light on what life is like on THIS side of the dinner plate. And how we’re striving to do the best we can, for the benefit of not just our farm or our herd, but for the consumer as well.

And that’s not a job that I take lightly. For that, I’ll be forever thankful.

If you really want to make a difference in an animal’s life. Go to your local shelter and donate time, money or supplies. Not only will the staff thank you, but you may get an actual tail wag as well!

An open invitation

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I think the activities of the last few weeks are kind of catching up to me. That’s the only way I can explain how I feel right now. I was going through some of my e-mails and other “office” type stuff when a tweet came across Tweetdeck that had a profound effect on me.

Normally, I don’t let these kind of things bother me too much, because if I did, I’d be crazy. But this was a link to the article that Time did on the high cost of cheap food. Basically it was a piece written by someone who sits behind a desk, has food at their fingertips and never again thinks about where his next meal will come from.

Here’s my challenge, or perhaps an open invitation, to these types of people:

Come, spend 24 hours fighting the wind, snow and ice of a driving blizzard, while trying to carry calves or herd cows into a barn, just so that they are safe and protected in the storm. Then sit at the computer when you get in, while wondering if you should lay down for a few minutes, or just head back out, and while at the computer, read an article that claims that you don’t do enough to provide safe food. Then you can complain about where your food comes from.

Now THAT's a snow bank!

Spend countless hours, weeks, months preparing to put your crop in. Spend every dime you’ve made in the last year, in hopes that you will make that, or maybe even a little more, in the coming year. Plant your seeds, watch it start to grow, take care of it the best you know how. And then watch as Mother Nature decides that she wants your crop…and have it wiped out in the blink of an eye. Then read about someone who thinks you should be happy enough with the fact that you’ll get paid a portion of what your crop was worth. That even though you have nothing to show for all of your hard work, it doesn’t matter, because you chose that line of work. That if you really wanted to, you could always get a job in town, never worrying about where food comes from, because the grocery store never runs out. Watch that unfold before your eyes…then you can complain about where your food comes from.

Put in a 20 hour day, working from before sun-up to past sun-down, taking care of whatever comes up during the day. Spend countless hours outside, loading bales by hand, helping a cow deliver a calf, fixing fence, changing tires. Then listen as someone on the radio claims that the crops you raise are going to cause our children to die at a younger age. That our country is fatter because of the unhealthy food that is grown. All while the same people are sitting behind a desk for eight hours, children are in school longer and in activities less, homework consumes all available time after school, as opposed to activities outside, menial labor is seen as substandard employment and fast-food is the king of family meals. Listen to that all day…then you can complain about where your food comes from.

All safe and warm inside, no matter what's going on outside.

Watch your son’s first ball game from a video tape, celebrate your wife’s birthday two months late, walk into church while the second hymn is being sung…all because a cow was calving and needed help, you had one more round to make before the storm let loose, or the crop needed to be planted, sprayed or harvested. Have your life played out around seasons, weather and all things that you have no control over. Work in those conditions…then you can complain about where your food comes from.

My family strives hard every day to make sure that our work ensures that the food we produce is the safest, healthiest and cheapest it can be for the consumer, as well as for ourselves. If we abuse our land, our animals or our crops in any way, then not only is our bottom line affected, but our whole lives are as well.

Fortunately, we live in a country where people don’t have to do any of the things I’ve wrote above, and still be able to complain…loudly and publicly. People attack an industry they don’t understand, because it’s easier to lay blame than to accept it. But the ag-community is responding. Perhaps someday soon there will be more articles in the national news thanking our farmers, ranchers and those that work hard so we can provide for all. Perhaps.

A girl can dream, right?

Different kind of thanks…

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My second “thankful” post will give you a list of ten things that I am glad that my boys have taught me. Some more so than others, LOL!

1) Good things come in small packages. So, so true. I cherish every moment that I was able to spend rocking my sons, holding them close, knowing that they relied on me for everything. It was overwhelming at times to think about, but I never regretted a single second of it.

I so miss these days! *snuggles*

2) When something’s out of reach, keep climbing. Now, for the most part, this wasn’t a lesson that I enjoyed them learning. Mostly because it involved things like trying to hide candy on top of the refrigerator unsuccessfully…and finding out I was unsuccessful by catching a 2-year-old on top of the fridge, eating candy.

3) What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger. Well, if not, it at least teaches you some pretty valuable lessons. For instance, eating a wart off your foot doesn’t need a trip to the ER, even if you had wart remover on it. Although, the Ask-A-Nurse line and Poison Control Center will try their best not to gag and/or laugh at you for explaining, and re-explaining, and then explaining once more to whomever they can get near-by to listen in and give a “second opinion” on the situation. Scooter truly does have a stomach of steel, I swear.

4) Doctors don’t know everything. Yeah, I knew this before, but there’s something about the top medical clinic in the world telling you, “Hey, there’s something wrong with your son, but we haven’t a clue as to what it really is,” that makes you sit up and take notice. But I’ve quickly learned that the one True Physician knows all and can perform miracles when least expected. I truly thank God each and every day.

5) Life with boys is never-ending excitement. Well, let’s just say that the scenery is never the same, and the stuff they pull is ALWAYS amazing me. Really? Why would I ever think that a 2-year-old would hide in a dryer? Why would a 3-year-old fill the washing machine with milk replacer? In fact, life is so hectic at times, I’m adding 6) Life is never a dull moment.

Things like buckets of toads, being dropped on my floor.

7) Love for a child is immeasurable. There is nothing…I repeat, n o t h i n g, that I would not do to save my sons from pain or being hurt. I never understood what people were talking about until the day that I found out that we were expecting Big Bro.

8) Laugh. Every day if you can. Where would we be without enjoying the little things? I shudder to think.

Plus, you can take embarrassing pics of your kids before they're old enough to tell you no!

9) Sometimes the words “Thank You,” mean more than words can describe. When Big Bro told me “thank you” this week, for being a great mom, I will relive those moments for years to come. And so to you, my readers, I say “Thank you.” Thank you for following my crazy life, coming onto our farm, learning about our family and our industry, and being willing to share it with others. I do all of this to ensure that my sons have the same types of opportunities that my husband and I were blessed to have, but without you, I am nothing but a voice in a void. Thank you.

10) Tomorrow will not be today. I do not know what it will bring, but I know that it won’t be the same as today. And that’s OK. It has to be, because if I’m not OK with that, it doesn’t matter, it’ll happen anyway!

Ah, this life with boys is a crazy one, but I wouldn’t change a minute of it…well…

Tonight’s menu – humble pie

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Sorry about the down-time again, but somehow life keeps sneaking up on me! You would think by now that I’d be ready for just about anything, but then again…that’s half the fun!

Last week I spent a few days at the National FFA Convention in Indianapolis. It was amazing! I’ll write more about it later this week.

I arrived back late on Friday (another one of those long stories) and have been battling a few kids with the ickies since. But even with all that, I had a date last night that I’m glad I didn’t ditch out on.

A little over two months ago, my grandmother passed away at the age of 89. She was an amazing woman, and had lived an amazing life. The last 17 years she shared her time and her home with a dear man, named Bernie. When Grandma passed away, Bernie had a hard time adjusting. He’s since had to move into an assisted living center, since living on his own at almost 92 just wasn’t such a great idea.

Last night Bernie and I had a date. There was a wild game feed at the nursing center and all the residents were invited, along with their families. I was privileged enough to be considered the latter.

While sitting there, watching the nursing home residents and some of the assisted living center residents dealing with whatever limitations they may have, I realized just how blessed I’ve been. I’ve been reminded this week, on numerous occasions, that I’m a mother of four children, I don’t have time to be going out and talking to people about those issues that I’m passionate about. I have a built-in excuse to be absent from meetings, absent from church, absent from most of life. But I don’t want to be.

Yes, I have a busy life. My house is not always company-ready. My energy level sometimes dips to comatose levels. My husband sometimes wonders why there are no socks in his sock drawer. But that’s OK. It’s better than the alternative.

So, as long as my feet will carry me, my arms will juggle my children and my mouth will (for the most part!) cooperate and vocalize those random thoughts that gather in my brain, I will continue to plug on. In fact…I will do so with a smile on my face, counting my blessings with every step.

There’s always a why

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I was aked to write a few words about why I started blogging. After thinking about it a bit, I decided that I should probably write this in my blog, so that when I think I’m too tired to write, or feel that no one is paying any attention anyways, I can come back and read this letter:

Dear blogworld,

Thank you for giving me this opportunity to step into your world for just a minute…and in return, I’m asking you to step into mine. I want to explain to you why it is that I’m writing and why it is that you should care.

I could give you a thousand reasons why I shouldn’t be here. I have 4 boys for pete’s sake, that should be enough right there! I have a house to clean, laundry to do, rooms to straighten, errands to run, cows to check on, calf replacer to retrieve out of a washing machine, etc., etc. Yeah, I’m really that busy.

But I have four main reasons why I’m taking this time…the first was born in June, 2002, and the fourth was born in April, 2009.

Right now the world is being run by those who are in the media, spinning stories to their liking and making the general population afraid of things that they never thought about before. People are doubting the safety of their food, questioning the practices that my family has been using for generations and using a magnifying glass to determine if I’m doing a good enough job raising their food. That scares me. I don’t doubt for a minute the safety of the food we are raising, but I’m scared that those who want to see me out of business are out there telling everyone what it is I’m doing, instead of me telling them.

Laws and regulations are being passed and forced upon society without thought as to the science behind the practices. Emotions are being played with and people are being forced into questioning one of the world’s safest food sources…my farm.

I have a story to tell, and I don’t want it ending with me. I want my boys to have their own stories to tell. I want them to have the freedom and opportunities to pursue whatever careers their hearts decide on…and if the world is lucky enough, one of them may decide to be a farmer.

So, long story short, why am I here? Well, I’m hoping that if someone has a question as to why I do what I do…perhaps I’ll be lucky enough for them to actually ask me, instead of a reporter in New York. And if that luck holds out, perhaps my boys will too.