cute overload

Now, the reality of the situation sets in. He smells like a skunk and I’ve discovered that fox pee smells like skunk. So that’s a bummer. Another con: will he kill our cats when he gets older? Will the other dogs kill him as a pup? Kate and I are well versed in inter-species friendliness but can we muster enough love to get a semi-wild fox to snuggle with a couple kitty-cats? Time will tell.

That all said, the state of vermont is trying it’s hardest to stop farms like ours from succeeding. We only need to sell about 6 gallons of milk a week to pay off winnie’s impending hay bill for next winter. That’s not so much milk at all, and it places us squarely in the “Tier 1″ dairy regulatory framework which requires no inspection or milk testing at all. That’s great, but it doesn’t really help that much. If one of our customers invites us over for dinner or a movie or anything at their place, we can’t legally bring them the milk they want. To follow the law, each of our customers must come to the farm to get her own milk. In addition, we can’t bring milk to a central location (like a farmer’s market, store in town, friend’s house, etc) to distribute to our 3-6 customers.

If we want to be able to deliver milk we need to comply with the state’s testing and inspection regulations. Yesterday I delivered a quart of milk to the state lab in burlington (1.5 hour drive, each way…) to voluntarily get a test. I care about the safety and quality of our products and would happily comply with the more stringent regulations, except for the fact that they would break the milk bank on our farm. The test itself costs $24 and must be done twice per month. In addition, I have to hand deliver a half gallon of milk in a cooler full of ice-water for each test. At 50 cents per mile and $10 an hour for my time, the trip, with the cost of the test, runs $124. Do you think that selling 6 gallons of milk per week I could support the expense of $250 each month? I need to sell 80 gallons of milk a month just to cover that expense. That is almost the output of a single cow. Two people can hand milk 4 cows, with a lot of hard work and much time spent milking, and 25% of those efforts go right into the state lab. That’s an enormous tax on the backs of very small farms. In other words, Vermont does not want small producers to have access to their market. We’re isolated to sales on farm and can only survive by the generosity of our customers.

It’s no surprise then, that after this law passed in 2009 there are only TWO raw milk dairies in the state that comply with the testing procedure. How many small dairies is the state of vermont ignoring, losing lab fees on and marginalizing? Rural Vermont estimates 150 dairies sell under the tier 1 regulations. If they care about safety, they are doing everything they can to drive producers underground…not the safest path, in my opinion. Did I mention that you have to pay for parking while dropping a sample at the lab?

Dear Vermont, please allow Tier 1 producers to deliver milk directly to consumers and to central locations for pickup provided they send a 4-ounce sample of milk twice per month to the state lab. Alternatively, allow for testing to be performed at other independent labs that already accept mail-in samples. Lastly, if that’s not possible, send your inspectors around the state as often as you like to procure samples from small dairies. Maybe those inspectors can meet us at our predesignated pickup location and make sure that we’re handling milk safely while picking up a sample. Basically, stop forcing small dairies into a black market and rejecting their right to survive and the rights of their consumers to get the products they want. I can’t speak for all small dairies, but I’m willing to work with you to find a way to keep raw milk safe, affordable and accessible. Are you?

Other great early spring meal-time combinations are; one duck egg on a bowl of grits or steel cut oats, chicken eggs on fried potatoes, mashed potatoes or mashed and then fried potatoes. Basically, protein on grain with some roots if you’ve got ‘em. Grab some hot sauce and salt too. This is a tough time of year for eating off the farm but it’s the time we remember all those bulk dried goods we bought in the fall like black beans, yellow-eye beans, rice, risotto, oats, and grits. I’m also dipping into some pickles and soups when I get really sick of everything else. And, of course, one can always splurge for a pizza in town.

It is a desert of biodiversity. Very few activities happen in the desert since very few different species can sustain themselves there. Similarly, with little food and clean water available, few creatures aside from humans can survive in the city. Is the lack of inter-species drama what drives us nose first into the palm of our hands? Or, with the more convenient and well advertised advent of handheld technology have we forgotten to look up and notice that the wildlife have left us?

Sure, many say that so much happens in the city. So many people talking with each other, eating together, having drama. But in my little chicken community there is real drama, only not sensed by most humans. My rooster, Petit Monsieur, is currently fighting with his heir apparent, young Barred Rock. Rock’s father was killed by Petit last summer, only a week before he hatched. Now the two are engaged in a blood feud over who will rule the harem, giving Rock the chance to avenge his father’s death. Meanwhile the hens are forced to ally themselves with their current monarch or to defect to the younger rebel’s side. Petit has the advantage of experience and 3-inch talons, but young Rock is bigger and just coming into his prime. All the while the common enemy, Mr. Fox, is ever present at the gates, temporarily enjoining the two clucks in common defense of the flock. They don’t speak english, but it’s obvious when you spend time with them that this feud is for real, and more drama than even Downton Abbey can conjure.

I love this man. Not only did he predict the current crisis of american agriculture in the above quoted book but his writing has untangled the frustrated rat’s nest of thought and feeling I walk around with. In this book he details our current crisis in terms of culture, character and ecology. So far the main take aways are; return to small farms because they are better for the economy, ecology and culture of america, they build stronger people and more resilient communities and they produce higher quality and more sustainable food. I’m so happy to have found a good writer like this.

Think of it this way. A large corn monoculture grows only corn, by definition. It also relies on heavy equipment driving up and down the rows, planting, cultivating, irrigating, spraying, etc. This highly specialized operation leaves no room for any other plant to be grown alongside or between the corn stands. Those 2 or 3-foot wide bare tracks for the tractor wheels are wasted land and wasted opportunity. Beans grow very well underneath corn stalks, using the stalks as a vine climbs a fence. But giant combines can’t harvest beans and corn together. Small farms, on the other hand, can grow multiple crops in the same space, which helps naturally to fight weeds and pests while enriching the soil.

Applying this complex and diverse farm to livestock; while it takes 2.5 acres of grass to support one 100% grass-fed cow and calf pair, that same space can support an additional 5 sheep and 400 chickens. The same 2.5 acres planted in grain at (9000 lbs feed grain per acre) and fed directly to cows would produce 2250 pounds of beef (10:1 feed conversion (p. 16)). The grass-fed calf, 5 sheep and 400 chickens will produce 2500 pounds of meat (600 lbs beef, 300 lbs lamb, 1600 pounds chicken). This would cost 400 pounds of grain to feed only the chickens which equals an additional 0.35 acres of grain growing. Net result, 2.5 acres of grain produces 2250 pounds of low-quality beef and 2.5 acres of grass plus .35 acres of grain produces 2500 pounds of high-quality, Omega-3 and CLA laden beef, lamb and chicken.

Finally, let’s consider the energy used to bring those pounds of meat to the table. Industrial food systems typically require 7 to 10 calories of energy to bring 1 calorie to the table (p. 120). That includes fertilizer, machinery, processing, hauling and refrigeration. That means 2250 pounds of grain-fed beef equals 1,800,000 calories of food which requires 15,300,000 calories to get to your home. That’s the equivalent of 486 gallons of gasoline. On my old livestock farm we used 500-1000 gallons of fuel per year to bring to market 150 cows, 400 pigs, 100 turkeys and produce 4000 eggs. This is why small farms are more efficient.

Buy local, cook at home, use less refrigeration, start a garden and get to know your neighbors. These are habits that will not only help us avert the worst impacts of climate change but also deal with what’s coming.

Billy had a mysterious background. Like our rooster, we don’t know where Billy was born or how he found us. A farm hand in NC found him in our 4×4 one day and he was friendlier than any kitten I’d ever known. He was obviously trained by some mama cat somewhere because he was an excellent hunter, hider and snuggler. I never worried about him getting eaten, he was a very careful cat. He never came out during the day and only seemed to have energy at sunset and sunrise. He was dark and barely visible. No coyote could ever touch him. He loved Rudy and slept against his belly. He slept next to me every night for the last year. First on the window sill next to our bed in North Carolina. Then on my legs at the River, on Cape Cod and finally in Western Mass. He came when I called him and loved raw liver. He spoke to us in some cat language we understood and he seemed to understand us. I never had to yell at him or put him in a cage. He let us carry him down a busy Boylston st. in Boston trusting completely that we would keep him safe. He never tolerated a cage or a leash, so we just had to hold him in our arms every where we went. He took the ferry to Martha’s Vineyard and rode on my lap in the Subaru. He was the greatest cat I’ve ever known and I miss him so much.

He’s buried under an old apple tree in Western Mass at 1400 feet. He didn’t look like Billy when I dug his grave but he felt like him when I put him in it. I don’t want to forget him.

Before it got so hot Kate and I planned to make moves North by August this year. The cow, 2 pigs, 21 chickens, 2 cats, 1 dog and a hive of bees made the trek last week on our micro-Noah’s Ark. The greasetruck pulled this small two-horse trailer from the late ’70′s 700 miles from here to our worthington, MA (I stockpiled 100 gallons of grease for the trip). Cow on one side, pigs on the other, chickens in the loft and bees in the tack compartment. Rudy and the cats rode in the truck and we drove through the night to keep things cool.

Our next home is in Western Massachusetts, a farm called Sawyer Farm. It’s run by a young couple who embrace low expense, low input farming. They run a “full-diet CSA” which will provide a small group of people their entire year’s worth of food. Their customers come to the farm once a week to take as much food as they want. There are no limits on what they grab, which fosters a real sense of community and support. The farm produces everything; grain and bread, milk and butter, eggs and beef and more. It’s like a community homestead.

It basically made me feel like I need to step things up. So here I am, sans smoker or any protection collecting honey from my hive. Turns out all those brood cells I saw in the early spring turn into honey cells later in the season. Just before leaving North Carolina I took 7 pints out of one super and am very happy with the flavor. Go bees!