Life can be so challenging...friends, colleagues, family, in-laws...the more people you add the more complicated life seems to be. I struggle with some of my family and old friends...we all seem to change so much when we marry. I feel as though I have changed so much that my old friendships feel like they don't fit so well anymore, but I hold onto them nevertheless.  Maybe I am just maudlin. Before we all had careers, jobs, husbands, and my shackle (so everyone thinks)...the farm, getting along and talking seemed so much easier. I never thought living and working on an organic farm would cause so much strife in my personal relationships. It is a way of life that very, very few can appreciate let alone fathom. Being an organic farmer, I feel as though I am a member of a sub-culture of a subculture...a lonely place indeed. But it is the work that must be done, I feel. There are over 200 families counting on me, the boys, and the organic/non-gmo movement itself. And the animals...they are the most satisfying aspect of being here.

As I look back at picture of my childhood, I often had photos taken of myself with an animal, more so than my sister. We had rabbits we showed for 4H, cats, and dogs. Now, I have lots of milk cows. Milk cows are very special, especially Jerseys. Raised properly, they are so sweet and docile and I enjoy immensely the time I spend with our milk cows. One of my favorites, Olga, just had her first calf on Saturday. I watched her all day in the pasture waiting for that baby to come, since she might need help.

When I was off doing something with boys outside late in the afternoon, her calf came. Luckily, I went out to the pasture to check just moments, I think, after he was born. Once there, I discovered the sack was still over the front half of his body. I thought he was dead as I had no idea how long he had been laying there. Remembering Doug's instructions, I immediately tore away the sack, then thinking of my own birthing experiences, I stuck my fingers up his nose to clear his nasal passages. Then I got him sitting up as he had flopped back with his head on the ground, nose up, and began massaging his lungs. He began breathing! Success! Kilian said we should name him "Bullseye". It was such a special moment and my only "regret" is that he wasn't a heifer, for obvious reasons.

Goodbye, old friend.

Today we said goodbye to a great farm dog, Mike. Doug adopted Mike in December of 2003 from a neighbor as he was the son of Doug's beloved dog, Gus.  Mike wasn't quite 10 and in January the skin ailments from which he had always suffered, started to take a turn for the worst, becoming more noticeable in February. He would go through spells of skin eruptions, usually when I would fail to make the special garlic-based vegetable mixture that was part of his ration. In March, we realized he wasn't clearing up, and needed to treat him for mange. We consulted with our homeopathic vet after the peroxide/boric acid treatment we had found wasn't clearing things up. He recommended homeopathic sulfur internally and sulfur lime dip to his body. We ordered the liquid lime dip and treated him as much as we could between the blizzards we seemed to have every week. This past week, I had hernia surgery on Thursday and so Thursday and Friday, I couldn't doctor Mike with his morning dose of sulfur and vitamin c. Friday, he took a turn for the worst. Saturday, he stopped getting up to go outside, and Saturday night he wailed in pain all night. This morning, he was pretty "out of it", dying.  Doug had to do one of the hardest things imaginable, shoot his own dog. Put him out of his misery. Ahh...so sad.

Mike was such a character.  He loved seeing all the people come to the dairy, eager to greet everyone. He was always stealing bones from all the other dogs on the farm. When we would come home, he would wail a welcome and rub his face between our calves. He had the habit of going out to the chicken house when it was close to the house, and walking up inside and stealing eggs out of the nest box. His number one skill was finding the best shade on the farm. Having some St.Bernard and Husky, he was always very warm sporting his dense and beautiful coat. One of his more notable habits was walking the center yellow line up the road to the dairy from the house, something his dad, Gus, did also.

It seems like an end of an era...In the 9 years I have know Doug, Mike has been here...and now he is not.

Surgery Day

Today I had ventral hernia repair surgery. I was scared. I don't much like being in a hospital ...maybe because of all the horror stories one hears about the things that go wrong. As I was wheeled out of pre-surgery, kissed Doug goodbye, I fought to hold back my tears of fear.  But I had a great crew today taking care of me and turns out one of the ER nurses had been to one of our Harvest Parties several years ago (we know her dad). With that connection made, I felt a little more comfortable and out went the lights. Next thing I know, I am staring at the ceiling into hospital lights, post-surgery. I thanked God, the Universe, everyone, for this moment. I was awake, I felt o.k., and I was going to see my precious little boys again. My Mom was in moments later, and I teared up, so comforted by seeing her.

Now a stack of books and magazines, started and long-neglected, will keep me company today and tomorrow (my awesome parents who agreed to keep the boys Friday also). And while I am very dedicated to my Tracy Anderson Method workouts, I am glad to have a break, truth be told. I have put my workout subscription on hold as I won't be able to complete the intense muscular structure workouts for 6 weeks. So I will have to do other things. I also will not be doing any of my normal dairy work for a while. I will not miss bottling milk so much but I do miss the chickens. The cows are now on grass and in the fields by our house, so I can go see them, which will comfort me. 

A new spot

Ahh..how nice it is to have another spot for my voice aside from Facebook. I often feel limited in what I can say there. Here, now I have my own little spot...a little less visible than FB where I might feel a little freer. Nobody will see my "crazy" farmer comments in their newsfeed....In fact, you will only be reading this if you actually sought this blog out.

As I find my life has changed substantially since I married a farmer and am developing my agrarian skills, I often find there are few who can appreciate my life or respect it. I am just simply crazy for choosing to "dumb down" and live a life here. In college, I discovered that food was a big issue politically as well as environmentally. As a Environmental Studies (& Geography) major, I knew I wanted to make an impact on the world through environmental work in some aspect of agriculture. At the time, I just didn't know that it would be doing this on my own organic farm. I guess I realized what Joel Salatin mentions in his book "Folks, this ain't normal": "I am waiting for the day when environmental sciences majors realize the most valuable thing they could do is actually cover their hands in calluses growing ecological food." Yes!

Since moving here my political ideals have changed a little because I am seeing a little different side of life (outside of the city). I was pretty liberal, although always a registered Independent, but am feeling surprised that I am finding some truths in the more conservative side of politics. Here, life is much different than the city and we often must fight against governmental agencies and legislation to protect the rural way of our life. One very practical example is the recent gun issue.  Being in a rural area without neighbors, the "protection" of law enforcement, having the ability to own/operate a gun is very comforting in terms of protection from intruders (who can move much more freely without as many eyes), protection from wildlife, and/or aggressive farm animals.  I loathe Republicans and feel frustrated with Democrats and find myself in the middle. Not many can handle being there...in the gray.

Religiously...well, I don't fall on any side there either...in the middle again...raised Catholic for 10 years then Methodist for 9. During college, I was exposed to the religions and mythology of the world. During that time, I realized that all these people from different parts of the world seemed to be saying very similar things, and all had validity. "In that moment I felt that I was on the shores of Galilee, hearing Jesus speak, and understood that all the great wisdom comes from the same source." Thank you, Roshi John Tarrant, for writing the words to point to my feelings.

More to come...