Breaking News

I wanted to wait until after my birthday for this very major announcement. Oh yeah, you WISH the announcement had to do with my quitting my blog.You're out of luck Chuck,better make a new plan, Stan, because I am doing exactly the opposite.

I'm expanding.

Yup, more of me, more of the time. Lord help YOU. For many months I have been feeling pulled towards doing more with my cyber time. By "more" I mean something of more value. For the last two years I have been all over the blog boogie board. A little bit of family, a little bit of farm, a little bit of grand kid talk, a little political (THERE ! Another grand band name. Little Political How do I do that ?!") and lately more than a little about soap, of all things.

 By the way last night I made a horrible batch of brown soap so I rebatched it, added superfat and great blue colors and new smell and now it is the most fabulous midnight blue soap bar that I will call NIGHT SHIFT in honor of all the night shift workers in all the world especially my friends at Gibson Area Hospital, my daughter Raven, son Colton,  and my newest night nurse stalker, John  in North Wales . Wait ! You got it wrong. He's not a stalker of night nurses, he is a night nurse who stalks my blog as I do his, But I digress.

Air  R  E ?

Oh yeah. My new blogs.

This one, the Midlife FarmKook will remain right here. But the focus will be slightly right of center. I will speak of the usual family and daily farm life stuff. The real great farm life stuff. The fun stuff. Stuff that makes my heart SING. OK you get it.

Farmer Keith and GK Wes ,window shopping
in Chicago after making pork deliveries last week.

Blog number two, already up and running but in a very secret way until now, is called The Seanachai's Daughter. I started it several months ago in a different  "venue" (I hate that word, weddings used to held at the VFW club house, now they are held in "Venues," what a load of donkey ripeness.) I'm using WordPress to produce it. That blog will focus on my fledgling writing including excerpts from my Novel in Progress, some poetry (you said it I didn't) and short stories. You can visit my new blog here: http://seanachaidaughter.wordpress.com/

Blog number three will be made public very soon. It is at this moment unnamed but its focus will be strong and clear; farmer rights and struggles in a time of government suffocation. I am a renegade farmer and I have reached my boiling point. Farm after farm after farm has been being raided, shut down, and destroyed over ridiculous things like the sales of raw milk and yogurt. Other champions have risen to this calling and its now my turn to put up or shut up. This new blog will focus specifically on events occurring here in Central Illinois to champion farmers and generally on actions being taken nationally. Congressman Ron Paul has gone out on a political limb through his support of raw milk sales and he needs farmer support in this work.

So there you have it. Announcement over. Please go back to your regular programming, but don't forget to come back. Put it on a Post-It Note.  Works for me...sometimes.

I got your CHIVES right here !

Less than 24 hours until The Stewards of The Land first Farmers Market of the Season. We have confirmation of the following

     Grass Fed Beef
     Organic Pork
     Rhubarb
     Radishes
     Free Range Eggs
     Herbs like Chives,

                                                                       Comfrey,

                                                                        Tarragon

     Hand Crafted soap to clean up your cooking mess

Really, its soap, not caramel bars. Made with 95% organic materials
 I call it "Hippie Hemp Soap". due to the  Hemp Oil in it which is great for dry skin
 No dummy, you can't smoke it, but you
can bathe with it.

Not only will you be able to buy fresh produce but we are located in front of one of the coolest antique Shoppes I have even seen. So make a Saturday out of it and come visit us at 301 W. Oak Street in Fairbury, Illinois, USA

That "USA" part is for the thousand or so of my blog followers coming from other countries. You know who you are ! Still time to grab a flight over to see us. I'll get the guest room ready. There, I chased the cat off the guest bed, the guest bed is ready.

Look at me , look at me, LOOK AT ME !

Yes, believe it or not ,the elusive and mystical white peacock with its silvery plumes and masculine chicken legs. resides here on South Pork Ranch in Chatsworth Illinois. In early Druid  times of Southern Wales he was thought to have awesome powers. If a famine struck peasant was lucky enough to see one and prove such by obtaining one of the creatures beautiful tail feathers, he would be rewarded with overwhelming wealth and good fortune. His critical wife would honor him and once again find him wildly attractive despite his poor dental hygiene and his 19 children would respect him, bragging about his wisdom to all their sheep thieving friends. His landlord would GIVE him the one room shack slash barn  in which he was living. The peasant would be able to speak many languages endearing him to the leaders of the world who would seek his opinion in all matters of importance.


Oh please. Its just a bird. I made up all that stuff.


But they are fun to watch. Strutting all over the farm like they are somebirdy.  First when you approach, you get the full frontal view but if you offend them in any way like say, looking at them they blow you off  with this view:

Nice, eh ? Once you've calmed their huge egos you might be lucky to get a  Barbra Streisand side view. Usually saved for bigger camera's like those of National Graphic, consider yourself lucky to get  his,  "this is my best side" pose.

Trying to impress anything else with feathers, such as the lowly chicken, the uninterested duck, the also too self involved rooster,  the white peacock soon becomes bored with the attention of such common farm animals and flounces off.

I mean really just look at that back leg, extended with heel up. Is that not a "flounce" ? He has never quite gotten over the fact that he ended up here instead of at Brookfield  Zoo like so many of his performance minded family members.  Receiving a urgent call from his agent he rushes to his private jet

Seconds later, because he was so busy with his model runway classes and never got around to getting his flying license, he crashes beak first into the chicken yard.

Mr. Bird Cage here is just one of several critters gearing up for spring. In fact, The South Pork Ranch Spring Review will be on stage for the next few weeks. Matings, birthings, flouncings,  etc etc...Mardi Gras time, farm style.

Who is sustaining who ? or is it whom ?

 

Hey !  Yes you. See that wooden box over there ? The one right next to you with the word  "SOAP" on it ? Yes, that's the one. Kick it over my way would you ? Hey, not so hard !  OK then, let...me...just step...up here...umphhh...groan...THERE. I'm up and ready to go. Cute suit huh ?

In case you are new to this blog, well first I apologize, and second many thanks, but you  may not realize that I have  just mounted my soap box which means an opinion is coming. There is still time to bail if you click on that little "X" in the right hand corner of your screen. Otherwise you'll have to read on and endure.

Farming is full of trendy terms right now. Organic, beyond organic, local, all natural, grass-fed, free-range and of course sustainable. I've ranted before about the the organic label with its correct and incorrect use and its likely I will come back to it but today's word is "sustainable."
We've used it to describe our own farm for some time now and it is  used frequently by other farmers we know and even some non-farmer types which is odd but true. I recently read an insurance companies ad that referred to itself as sustainable. Truthfully, I have found the term confusing so I've done some research. The definition (from several agricultural sources ) is this:

A method of agriculture that attempts to ensure the profitability of farms while preserving the environment.

Funny. In my peacock sized brain, I thought "sustainable" meant simply the ability to support ones farm without outside financial assistance, Which is why I have felt so guilty, yes guilty for so many years because our farm was surviving due in large part to the income I brought in as a nurse. My husband, who was the one doing the majority of the farm work up until my "retirement"  from nursing 5 months ago, would be the first to agree, as would our tax man.

But in looking at that definition above, in no way does it imply that the financial resources a farm requires to operate must come from the farm alone. Once again I created my own definition and was incorrect.  (cue the song "You're so Vain" here) Or am I ? In the first three words , "A Method of Agriculture" suggests that it is in agriculture alone we can ensure profitability. But what if in those early years the products you produce, grow and hopefully sell are not enough to meet expenses ? Are you "less sustainable" as a farmer if you require additional non-direct-farm income in order to make the hay payment or buy the grinder needed to mix your own hog feed or heaven forbid, you accept assistance from government programs such as NRCS ?  

Moving on to the next section of "attempting to ensure the profitability of farms," I have to wonder about that word "attempt."  Pretty weak isn't it ?  Down right wishy washy in my opinion. Like, "OK, I'll attempt to be profitable but you can't blame me if corn prices go to high. "  Granted one farmer is not able to control all grain prices but that same one farmer can decide how he will deal with those circumstances on his /her own farm. Perhaps the pastured hogs will get less corn and  more of the other sources of less costly protein such as soy bean hulls , hay or raw milk if one has access to a nearby dairy and the means to transport the milk. Options.  We all have enough options to allow us to accomplish a task instead of  just "attempting" to accomplish it.  Attempt, such a defeatist word. No wonder farmers feel so low sometimes.   

And now "Profitability."  Our farm has never been hugely profitable yet bills were paid and some luxuries were allowed.  My salary covered all the household expenses and then bought the things the farm needed that the farm could not pay for. We drove used vehicles and Keith's farm equipment was even more used. In the 18 years we have been married we have purchased just two brand new pieces of farm equipment. One Kubota tractor and one livestock trailer which was paid for with grant funds from the ever generous Frontera Farmers foundation. These are not complaints. These are facts. But when our methods didn't work we changed them. Sometimes the changes  were BRILLIANT (like selling whole hog carcasses directly to the back alley of fine restaurants ) while other times the changes we made failed worse than  those changes barked about by that hotshot politician from Chicago.

And in light of all that we decided the best way to become more sustainable and more profitable was for me to leave a job that paid financially very well but had taken me to a dead end spiritually. So here we are trying, "attempting" every day to be independently sustainable. Will we make it ?  Only Mud, Sweat and Tears will tell. If we mange to support our farm with no outside income are we "more" sustainable than those farmers who still must farm all day and perhaps work all night in a factory or all day for perhaps another farmer and then working a second shift on their own land ? Whose wives must teach or cook or nurse or God willing , write, to bring in more income ? I think not. Farming is hell and heaven all mixed into one wet and cold, warm and sunny day and in my opinion, again, if you are still getting out of bed each day thinking about how you can make your farm just a little bit better than it was the day before, you are indeed "sustainable"

And if all that is not enough, the definition of sustainable goes on to require preservation of the environment. Again, very subjective. How WE  choose to preserve the environment (through the very stringent standards of the National Organic Program) may not be the same way YOU choose to preserve the environment. To some gardeners a little bit of Round Up to control weeds is acceptable while to others it is frowned upon or even to others may be illegal to use on their farms.

Regardless of the buzz word you type on your farm products label YOU are accountable to that customer. who buys your product. Say what you mean and mean what you say verbally and in writing. But please think hard about what you put on those labels and be willing to defend with pride the words you have chosen to identify the farm you represent. Honesty and integrity are still the best buzz words of all.

Farmer Pirates and Dancing Cowboys

Apples without pesticides or fungicides,
 take longer to mature
and ripen. Good things are always worth the wait.

A night to remember.  Last night at Station 220 in Bloomington Illinois miraculous things occurred. The first annual meeting of The Central Illinois Sustainable Farmers Network (CISFN) took place. More than double the expected number of farmers showed up to meet old friends, greet new friends and eat a meal that was out of this world. The meal evolved through the efforts of many local farmers sharing their produce and meat, all raised with hard work and a dedication to growing food with massive taste benefits and minimal harm to the land. A meal put together through the sweat and worry of  chef  Ken Myszka of Epiphany Farms, who jumped in at the last moment when desperately needed. A meal that combined tastes of  paper thin radish peels and pieces of pork belly, maple syrup with carrot cake and honey crisps. The kind of meal where you are dreadfully sad when the last plate is served as you know you could easily eat one, five, ten more of any of the courses.

And now a word about the servers and cooks we did not see. Men and women who did not get the fame of the microphone but whom without their services a meal like last nights would never had made it out from the farmers truck, into the kitchen and onto our plates complete with the flowing circle of Aronia berry juice perfectly framing our dessert.

So many people coming together to focus on one thing, the small family farm.

The evening was already perfect but then an introduction was made. While listening to his resume being shared at the podium, our guest speaker hung his head. His well worn hat tipped low, he wrung his hands ever so slightly around his note cards. It was obvious to this other small farmer that our man of the hour was not so comfortable in the recitation of his life medals. The introduction went on for some time, appropriate since our guest had in his very young middle aged life, already accomplished some amazing things. They are discussed here:
http://smallfarmersjournal.com/who-is-lynn-r-miller

When Mr Miller spoke everyone listened. He is the rare  individual who walks the long, often muddy, usually heavy but then again often rewarding walk of the small farmer. He started HIS speech by pushing the attention in another direction. Pointing to the Sugar Shack King, Will Travis of Spence Farm in Fairbury Illinois, he said "The future of everything we care about in this room is right there in that young man. " He went on to talk of many OTHER farmers stories from across the country. "Small"  farmers who were making HUGE differences in their own neighborhoods ways of looking  at and utilizing food grown sustainably by "their" farmer.

He reminded us about the rest of the planet where every four seconds a child dies of hunger. The elegantly served goat meat and pasta in my own belly rolled over in guilt and I thought of the many opportunities that had passed by to share our  wealth of food in our own community.  Something to put at the top of our "To-do " list which contained far less important things like updating our assets sheets for our tax man

And he chastised us for not knowing our neighbors across the fence. " We need to allow our farms to be part and parcel of those who live around us."  And he encouraged us and made us smile when he said " Living the life of something you love is the sexiest life you can live."  12 hours later I am still giggling about that one. Wondering how to incorporate it into our farm slogan. South Pork Ranch where raising the Red Wattle hog is sexy !  That should generate some community interest.

He told us of the Japan's Ministry of Agriculture who visited his own farm in Oregon and his pure laugh out loud joy at seeing Lynn working with real horse power. The kind with a tail and a mane. He downplayed the importance of such a visit and the passing of the real food baton reminding us that,  "The answer is scale." More specifically , "The farm should be no bigger than what you can get your arms around...no bigger than your embrace."  I looked down at my own short arms suddenly realizing why I was so tired lately. At that exact moment my husband , sitting behind me, reached up and placed his hand on my shoulder. Strong words I won't soon forget, as long as I write them down on some post-its and stick them up all over the house and the barn and in my notebooks and on my blog. Nope. I won't forget them.

He filled his time with real stories about real people and a few stories of questionable nature like the snake who knocked on the side of his boat looking for another drop or two of Jack Daniels. Anyone with half a brain knows snakes prefer Jamison. Ever since driven out of Ireland they've missed it terribly.

After the meeting I stood in line to get our worn copy of Farmer Pirates & Dancing Cows signed. When I reached out to shake Lynn's hand he grabbed it, pulled it towards him and KISSED IT !  He then thanked me for all the hard work we were doing on our farm.  Timing...is...everything. Just the day before Keith and I were talking about all we do, why we do it, should we do it, can we stay solvent doing it, without killing ourselves while doing it and then someone comes along and out of the blue thanks you for doing it.

And you are able to get up the next day and do it again.

THANK YOU Mr Lynn R Miller. Thanks a million.