Posts Tagged ‘Ag Business’
The Saddest Words I Know
Throughout my life, as a sheep breeder, a farmers wife, an Ag business professional, a 4-H leader and a suburban homesteader I often talk with people who want to do the same kinds of things I’m doing—growing my own food and living a more simple life. They claim to want this more than anything else; it permeates to the very core of their being. But, as I talk with them about what I am doing and encouraging them in how they too can walk this path, an interesting thing happens. A litany of reasons why “I can’t” begins to emerge. The reasons usually revolve around the fact that they don’t own a farm, or their family will not move out of the city, or still yet they have to wait until the kids are out of school. You get the picture.
As I listen to the excuses one thought runs through my mind—if you want to farm then farm. Just get started; no matter where you are.
I understand the reluctance and obstacles. Some people have city rules or HOA regulations that prevent them from participating fully in a farm life, but I do not understand doing nothing. No matter where you live you can start growing your own food NOW! If farming is something you want to do then nothing will stand in your way. Not location, not time, not money, not the job, not family reservations. Nothing. If this is your dream, stop dreaming and start doing. If my seemingly lack of understanding makes you mad then get mad. But, remember one thing…all these excuses…all these reasons…all the “I cant’s” for not doing has stopped you before; stopped you from pursuing areas that interested you, projects you wanted to try, places you wanted to go. You know I’m right. No matter where you live or what your immediate situation is you can start now. Start with a potted garden on your condo balcony. Start with a small unused planter near your patio, but do start. Give yourself permission to start.
If you live in an apartment or city high-rise you can still order seeds, set up some grow lights or pot up a bunch of herbs to set in the kitchen window and start growing a little of what you use. You can volunteer at the local farmers market; get acquainted with farmers who can mentor you. You can offer veggie starts or eggs for sale to co-workers, eventually working your way up to a small business. In a few weeks starting with nothing but borrowed equipment and a few packs of bought seeds you can be on your way to becoming a farmer. This may sound crazy, but it’s not. Not unless you are still hanging onto the long list of “I can’t’s”. If you want it to happened, really happen, you will find a way. Nothing will be able to stop you, and once you start you’ll be surprised how things just come your way. A friend may offer an extra table to use as a potting bench; another may ask to partner with you to raise chickens for eggs or meat. When your new life begins, your old life begins to fade away. You become a careful spender, an avid seller of unused belongings, and that brings money into your world, allowing you to do more.
Don’t be influenced by the people who don’t understand, who don’t agree, who perpetuate the “I can’t” excuses that chip away at your resolve and you dream. Stand with people who are excited about your ideas and prospects. Stay clear of those who want you to wait until life gets a little easier, gets a little slower, when you have more time on your hands because those days will never come. Life is always busy. Always crazy. The question is what do you want to be busy with or crazy about. Wouldn’t you prefer to busy yourself gardening or getting crazy planning for a new batch of chicks? I know I would.
This is my advice to you, folks, my wish for you—start today; not just dreaming, but doing. Take a few steps towards that farm in your mind and make it a reality. Surf the net for information. Call the farmers market organizer. Find a local garden club or sustainable farming organization and join. Borrow books. Barter for help. Find people who are trying to do the same and set up a group to encourage each other, support each other. This is not something you will ever regret. Not ever!
If farming is not your thing, but you still want to live a simpler less stressful life there are steps you can take to move that direction too. The moral of my story is “if you want it badly enough, crave it ‘til your stomach aches, even cry at night because it hurts you don’t have it…remember one thing…NOTHING and NO ONE can stop you from pursuing your farming dream if you have taken “I CAN’T” out of the equation.” And every day you put if off is one more day you have killed off life’s enjoyments. Choose life my dear friends…choose life.
From Field to Fork
I finally had enough down time this past weekend to watch a movie I’ve been wanting to see for quite some time – Food, Inc. As an Ag Business major in college who has worked for some of the countries largest agricultural companies, who was married to a production farmer for 15 years, and who has since turned agrarian homesteader I was impressed with the information given in the movie.
It was also sad to see how far we (farmers) have fallen. Saddened because this is an industry that I fell in love with almost 30 years ago, grew up with really, and have since separated from because I can no longer identify with or condon many of its practices.
It was just past my 9th birthday when I spent the summer at a cousins farm in a small town in the middle of Missouri. Joe had a few hundred acres and raised cattle and hogs, corn, wheat and alfalfa. Each morning I would go with him to “take care” of the animals. My job was to sit in the back of a flatbed truck and throw flakes of hay over the sides for the cattle. This was no feedlot operation, but cows on pasture with hay as a supplement. When we finished we would pick up a load of feed and fill big hoppers in the pig pens. Even though the pigs were not on pasture or rummaging around wooded areas they were out in the sun with plenty of mud holes to wallow in.
When the time was right we cut and baled alfalfa. Because I was not big enough to stack hay on the trailers I got to sit on the tractors wheel covering and watch the whole thing like a bird high up in its nest. The view was great. I loved being outside, the smell of fresh cut hay, picking corn off the stalks to take home for dinner. Even when the occasional animal died, a fact of reality on a farm, I was not put off by the experience. Not even a little.
Every few days we would stop by the farm next door, a dairy, full of black and white cows munching on cool green pastures. We’d stop just after the afternoon milking was finished, I’d take our stainless steel milk pail to the cooling room and out of the biggest tank I’d ever seen I would pour us a gallon of milk. Fresh and ice cold, milked from the cows just moments before, I had never tasted anything like it. I couldn’t drink the milk right then, we had to wait for the cream to separate so it could be skimmed off and made into butter. This was the full on, unadulterated, unpastuerized real stuff – smooth and creamy.
Once a month Joe and I would go to the sale yard to sell hogs or cattle that were ready for market. When we weren’t at the yards we were taking grain to the mills or visiting other local farmers either on their farms or at their local gathering places, small cafes or coffee shops where locals would meet to talk shop, farm subsides, politics and the like. It was here, between the summer chores and the small town talk, that I fell for this world of farming. I loved the people, the places, the smells, the work. You name it I was hooked.
At night, Joe and I, would listen to farm radio programs for weather updates, market prices, harvesting info and news. Even at nine I was beginning to understand that there was more to getting food to my table in California than just stopping by the store, there were people I’d would never see, places I’d never visit, trucks and trains involved in the whole process that I didn’t know anything about. But, on that farm in the hot humid mid-west summer I knew I wanted to know, wanted to learn, wanted to be one of them. I wanted to be a farmer!
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