all life is a blur of republicans and meat

Name:
Location: Midwest, United States

Hello. I'm Johnny Cash.

Monday, July 28, 2008

Old MacDonald had a Concentrated Animal Feeding Operation...

Eee-I-eee-I-O!

And on that farm Cargill owned the pigs and the feed and the medication....

Eee-I-eee-I-Noooooooooo!

I visited a pig "farm" CAFO last week. It was part of Cargill's master plan to brainwash the public into thinking that factory-farming (don't use that term!) is inevitable and the animals are well-taken care of and the food is all good for you. It's called the State Pork Association "Lunch and Learn" series. You eat pig in front of pigs but, as it turns out, not with a bunch of pigs.

The people who work for food mega-giant Cargill are just people. They're not on par with Nazi doctors or anything. At least, not the ones I met during the lunch 'n' learn--the ones actually taking care of the animals. The couple who owned the farm, the 'field service agent' who checks that regs are being followed on this and about 12 other pig nurseries, and the neighbors who sometimes worked there were all from farming backgrounds and all wanted nothing more than to make a decent living and have their children follow them into farming one day.

We ate lunch (pork!) under a tent set up in a pasture that, according to piles of evidence, had recently been vacated by cattle. There were state representatives and senators, college professors, bankers (of course), a few stragglers (yours truly included), and Mennonites who pulled up in horse-drawn buggies. We listened to Mrs. Farm Owner talk about how she and her husband own the land and the barns where the pigs are housed, how they have to fill out reams of paperwork whenever they spray liquified pig shit on their soybean fields, and about how they only do that on days when they know their neighbors aren't having a picnic or doing anything else outside.

Then the Cargill rep spoke (I knew she was from Cargill because she--and many others--had on baby blue, V-neck-with-collars [odd] shirts with "Cargill" embroidered on the breast). She talked about how Cargill and the whole CAFO world are "Committed to their Communities". She talked about the tax dollars that Cargill farmers pumped into the community, how State was in the top five or ten producers in the nation for swine, beef cattle, dairy cattle, corn, and soybeans, and many more statistics. After her spiel, she said that anyone with questions could ask one of the blue-shirted people, and we adjourned for the tour.

Most people left, but my burning curiosity led me to one of three barns where a couple of thousand piglets (weaned at 3 weeks--it's about 3 months on a real farm) were kept for the next 5-7 weeks of their fabulous lives.

I was only allowed in because I took a blood oath that I had not been around any other pigs for at least five days, and because, in the office of the main barn, I donned heavy plastic 'boots' that looked like clear Christmas stockings and a full-on jumpsuit made out of some substance created by Dow. (Awww....all these gigantors work together!)

I walked into the barn and WAFT! What a stench! It's true that the big manure lagoon out back really wasn't that smelly, but the ammonia and turd aroma bullying its way into my nostrils nearly brought tears to my eyes (mustn't cry...). In front of me, under a low ceiling (if you have visions of a big red barn full of sweet-smelling yellow hay, or any other image conjured by Charlotte's Web, you're on the wrong track), were a shitload of little pigs, in groups of 6-15 or so, contained in many, many little metal 'paddocks'. The floor consisted of beige plastic in a rectangular mesh pattern, the rectangles being almost big enough to allow most of the turds to escape to the mysterious place below the mesh and, eventually, to take flight to the lagoon. The fencing was tubular metal, about an inch in diameter, and it was very open--you could step over it, and each pig could see the pigs in nearby pens. The windows were open and a breeze was moving through the screens. Even with the breeze, the smell was thick, with dangerous wafts that made me feel that I might have to get out of the barn and throw up. (Mustn't vomit....)

Along the ceiling, pipes. Pipes carrying food into the metal troughs, pipes carrying water to the metal auto waterers, pipes piping fresh air in in the winter? What is the smell like in the winter? There were also many propane heaters hanging down. This is a Nursery Operation, and the pigs--separated from mommy at a very young age--need to be kept warm.

They were born in a Sow Operation, where the sows live their lives in a circle of go in heat, get bred, be pregnant, give birth, and feed for 3 weeks. Does that happen on a normal farm? Sure! But the gals also get a little time off, walk on grass over areas larger than their bodies times 2, eat something besides corn (Cargill corn, of course). Then they are trucked to this nursery, or one of dozens like it in this State alone. They live in these pens until they're big enough to be trucked to a Finishing Operation, usually in Iowa or Illinois, where they are closer to the corn. Cargill corn. Then they are slaughtered--excuse me, "harvested", when they are the correct weight. Guess who harvests them? You go, reader! Then they are sliced up into different products and sold under some kind of brand, usually a subsidiary of...Cargill! When you see "Nature's . . . something--I can't think of what it is. "Gate"? "Choice"? Something like that. Anyway, something with "nature" in the title is the brand name of Cargill ABF (antibiotic-free) products. Coming to a Kroger near you! You've been informed.

While in the barns, I had a chance to ask a few questions, mostly of the field service agent, a woman about my age, who was the spittin' image of a pretty, scrubbed-clean farm wife who probably canned all of her own vegetables and could drive a tractor. I asked, "I see a lot of kids running around. What if one of these kids wanted to be a pig farmer, but wanted to raise their OWN pigs from birth through harvest?"

It was an interesting moment. She said, "I'm glad you asked that question. It's actually a very personal question for me." She picked up her own daughter, a girl of maybe four, who was obviously comfortable in the barn. Then the field service agent's eyes filled with tears. She said, "I just hope that one of my children will want to be a farmer one day. But I don't think they'll be able to farm like that."

I could almost see the Cargill PR gun jabbing into her kidney.

The consensus of the Cargill employees (and a young pig-farming intern from Texas Tech) was that the 'furrow to finish' pig farming of the past was just that--the past. What small farmer could possibly compete with the vertical oligopoly that is Cargill?

Well, there is a place for us. And our pigs. There are people who are raising pigs the old-fashioned way and making it. Chipotle restaurants are buying pork from humane, natural and largely regulation-free operations, usually co-ops, where the pigs can walk around, eat a wide variety of things (including the slop that helped a farm family recycle all of their food), and wean naturally, meaning that they didn't need the artificial heaters and antibiotics or go through the stress that comes from weaning too early for efficiency's sake. They also don't have to eat corn--Cargill corn--their entire lives.

Make no mistake--the Cargill people want their pigs to be healthy, and the pigs receive much attention and top-notch medical care. There was no piglet juggling, no sick pigs getting kicked from the pen to the 'compost' pile (where they do put dead pigs), nothing of the sort. Not only is it not economical to have sick and dead pigs, but the people running the show get no pleasure from mistreated pigs. I really believe that. That point got through to this extremely skeptical consumer during the lunch and learn. And I did question my anti-CAFO prejudice on the ride home through some of the best pasture-land in the world. Is my prejudice based on teary-eyed liberal claptrap? Or is there a real reason to oppose these kinds of operations?

I decided that there is a real reason to oppose CAFOs. The whole system is a mess. A big, complex mess. I can't even begin to explain it here. I encourage you to read books like "The Omnivore's Dilemma" and educate yourself about what agriculture in this country (and others) looks like. A monoculture of corn. 94% of the soybean crop going to animal feed (in this State--according to the literature I was provided). Animals raised indoors and trucked to specialized facilities several times in their lives. Farmers producing so much with their expensive equipment, seed, and fertilizer that they bring on the price collapse of the commodity to the delight of companies like Cargill, who can then buy the corn cheap (in almost all years), and leave themselves facing another year of having to produce even more to pay all that shit off. And, finally, the dearth of true, diversified family farms.

But there is some good news. The local food movement has real, positive ramifications for small producers and I hear about it all the time! Our consumer choices really do make a difference. And we can chase giants like Cargill, and giant assholes like Monsanto, right out of business. One day.

I didn't mean for this to get preachy but, since it is, here are my commandments:
1. Try to avoid high fructose corn syrup. It's making us very fat.
2. Try to buy meat from local, family farms--especially those who believe they owe their animals a happy, stress-free life and a painless death. Or just go vegetarian.
3. Raise a few vegetables in your backyard. Try to eat seasonal fruits and vegetables, preferably from local producers.
4. Cook more.
5. Give yourself time to do all this. Don't get nuts.

See? Not that hard! It's a slow, very imperfect process in my family, but it's coming around. My cows are looking great--and happy--and ready to be bred. I bought 1/4 of a beef and 10 pasture-raised chickens from a local farmer the other day. It was cheaper on average than meat in the store--the beef is going to be about $2.20 a pound, and that includes steaks. And they weren't trucked, were given no antibiotics (because they don't get stressed and sick when raised the right way), and all the money in the transaction stays local.

I learned a lot at the lunch and learn. Mostly, though, I learned that every lunch is an opportunity to educate yourself about what you're eating.

Friday, July 18, 2008

OK, it seems I freaked some of you out.

It's all OK. Really!

I DID get help from my husband with the sheep fence. I told him I was demoralized with the whole fence thing and I just needed him to do whatever to keep those sheep in. And a gal with no morals will do just about anything to get that kind of help.

He did! And a couple of the sheep still got out, but I put one back in (little Olive--and we both got shocked as I lifted her over the fence and her back hooves caught the tape!) and Kevin hassled Cotton so badly he decided that he'd rather be a good sheep AND STAY IN HIS ACRE AND EAT THE MANY, MANY VARIETIES OF GRASS AND OTHER GREEN THINGS THAT REQUIRE NO HUMAN MONEY OR TIME.

So...the sheep will not be eating any more expensive hibiscus. I'll replace the one, my m-i-l was very nice about it, and the farm stress level has gone way down.

Since I'm talking about animals already, I'll give you a brief update on the others. I haven't worked with Daisy at all, which will probably piss off her farrier but oh well. I sprayed fly repellant on the cows and wow! what a difference! That shit really works. The chickens might be my favorites. They are just so goofy and charming. I took the cutest pictures of them getting into their roosting tree. They make about a million head movements as they contemplate which level to jump to to get where they think they might want to go. They typically go to the same branches each night and the maneuvering is hilarious to watch. Almost hypnotic.

The kids are good. Last weekend I made an effort-that-was-really-easy to spend as much time with them (well, with Mark--Stevie likes to really chill out on the weekends) doing whatever it was they wanted to do. Mark wanted to build things with blocks. And play trains. And read books. And paint his toenails and fingernails with blue Sharpie. And walk on the garden wall. And lots of other things and it was a pleasure to hang out with him. The hideously-termed mommy guilt is catching up with me. I work a lot, and am required to attend meetings in the evenings, and it does occur to me that he and I are missing out on each other a little too much. I need to get through a few more months, get the culture down, and then present a plan for why I won't, as executive director, attend every evening meeting of every committee in this Chamber.

And that moves me into work. Our Silent Partner has taken over the paperwork at the shop. We spent about 12 harrowing hours last week trying to fix the books after 2 1/2 months of neglect. Now that they're 99% fixed, he can handle the invoicing and bills and all that crap on his 1-2 times per week visits. I'll still work on advertising and 'consulting'. I'll also be getting the revised web copy to our new webmaster so our cool new website can go LIVE!

After straddling the uncomfortable line between duties at the shop and commitment to my new jobs, I've fallen toward commitment to the new jobs. If I just tell myself "this is your work and you will be here awhile" it will really help. I'm almost there. I like this work--it's the other obligations in my life that bring on the stress. Must find balance. If I try and can't, I'll have to make a change. But I like what I'm doing, feel it's important, and people are starting to rely on me--on a regional basis, even! There's a lot going on with tourism and economic development in Hometown and the 12 or so counties that we are affiliated with, and I'm becoming quite the playah. Indispensible? Absolutely not. But definitely part of it and, if I leave, it will set things back at least until a good person is hired. So here I sit. Blogging.

Why am I blogging when there is so much to do? Because I don't have enough time to talk to all of you at once! (Great to hear from you, jon!) I need a place to spew.

Bottom line?
1. Get work hours under control and keep work at work.
3. Spend more time with my family.
4. Take advantage of creative opportunities to expand business at the shop.

That's it!

Friday, July 11, 2008

Oh my god.

It's getting to me. I'm very busy and very stressed. It's the little things that'll kill you. I partitioned off an acre of pasture for my sheep and spent a few hot and tiring days painting t-posts (they have to be brown according to my f-i-l's typed "pasture agreement), pounding them in, measuring, running tape, etc. And the sheep get out STILL. They still have some wool and, apparently, wool is a helluva insulator against electric tape that will contain animals 10 times as large.

As of yesterday they've started eating my m-i-l's flowers--an event that I knew was coming and, because I'm so in tune with my sheep, I could almost feel them munching hostas and hibiscus as I worked and worked and worked yesterday. But since I've worked at least 12 hours EVERY DAY this week (including today, Friday--well, it's only 11 hours today), where in the hell am I going to find the time to secure those little pasture maggots? And do you think I'm going to get a lot of help out of my husband? HA!

More later. I've got to get home and deal with those sheep. They're lucky I don't have any easy mutton recipes....