~ Rosie ~
☆ August 8, 2012
Yesterday, a dream I’ve held for thirty years was fulfilled.
I rode in a big rig!!!
Bethany is even more amazing than her truck ~
I’m thrilled she’s my driver and I wish she were my neighbor!
Much more to share but I am frustratingly exhausted….
over & out for now.
You Win Some. You Lose Some.
☆ August 3, 2012
Daisy calved Saturday night ~ she had a breech birth and it was hard and horrible and I thought I might lose her. My vet came out to assist and, against all odds, the calf was born alive.
He was up and nursing after the birth, and bouncing around the next morning, nursing on one of Daisy’s front teats as I milked the back ones. But he started failing that evening, and though we did everything we could, he died two days later.
What can you say about a baby calf who died? {Who knows the book whose first line I just slightly altered?} I can’t really scream and cry about things being unfair, because in the last six weeks, Sir Baby and Daisy have been thisclose to death and pulled through beautifully. But it’s still terribly sad.
The End, The Beginning
☆ July 25, 2012
This morning I stood in a meat locker surrounded by my hanging sides of beef. Talk about intimacy. I have wanted to write about the last days, and have, for myself ~ but haven’t published any of it here because I have learned that sometimes, while emotions and thoughts might seem crystal clear to me, I don’t always express them clearly enough for The Internet and this topic is too potent and too dear to risk misunderstanding. But it’s time to try.
Two weeks before my little herd was slated for processing, Mike and I trailered them from their huge spring pasture to a lush smaller pasture just a quarter mile from home where it would be easier to sort them off when the time came. Over the course of their lives, I have trailed them half the time and trailered them half the time ~ from the beginning, I knew their last day would entail a trailer ride to the processor and I didn’t want that to be a new and stressful experience for them. Trailering them to various grazing land is always a long, hard day for Mike and me, because it takes so many trips, but it’s quick and easy for the animals, and they walk right into the trailer in small groups and think nothing of it. This means so much to me.
When the time came, we took them to the processor in small batches over the course of a week. I chose the processor I did because they are incredibly good at what they do and they care deeply about their work ~ and the animals. It’s just two women and three men, small and personal, and stereotypes do not fit here ~ they are patient and gentle. On the first morning, one of the men looked right into my eyes and said, “I can see these animals are loved,” and that comment reaffirmed my confidence that I was leaving them in the right hands (I did not stay for the slaughter).
That day, I cried several times but it was not for the reason most people assumed, that my animals were being killed. I see it more as a transition than death ~ they were transitioning to beef, to food for people who need it and will respect it and deeply appreciate it, just as I do when I eat meat. No, I cried because of the sheer intensity of being this closely involved in the process. The reality of the process. Stores make it so easy to disconnect from the process ~ whether it’s a grocery store or a clothing store or whatever store ~ because in that context, we ARE disconnected. But the process is potent. It demands acknowledgement and responsibility. It leaves no doubt that waste is disrespectful.
It soothed my soul to know that in addition to the meat, every organ and bone of every beef was spoken for. That every lower leg with the hoof, usually thrown away, was going to someone’s dog. To know that even an ear and an eyeball were going to fuel a child’s imagination (one customer emailed me to say her daughter was in the midst of the Harry Potter books and had asked for an ear and an eyeball with which to make spells). The transition of my herd was not in vain.
When I began this venture two and half years ago, everyone in town who knew about it thought it would fail. Even Mike. Mike and certain friends were wholly supportive, but skeptical nonetheless. I’m so grateful to all of you who have allowed me, over the past several years, to get to know you ~ for even though I don’t know what any of you look like, I knew that our vision and values aligned. I knew, deep down, that this was not a great risk or outrageous fantasy, but simply a step in the right direction that we are taking together.
On a lighter note ~ the beef looks fantastic. The processors were amazed by the sheer size of each beef and by the quality of the meat. It is perfectly marbled ~ the holy grail of beef ~ yet lean overall, without the thick, heavy layer of outer fat that they usually have to trim off with conventional grain-fed beef. I’m really pleased, and think that everyone who ordered will be, too.
Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner
☆ July 18, 2012
Tweet from July 15: Sir Baby is feeling better ~ he gently tossed Mike into the water tank tonight. SO FUNNY.
Why did Sir Baby toss Mike into the water tank? Because he could! I took it as an enormous compliment, because Baby never pulls that kind of stunt with me. And he could, if he wanted to. And it shows, yet again, just how intelligent and clever these animals are. It was SO deliberate. A gentle plop. God, I love him, and Mike, too, for being such a good sport.
He didn’t hurt Mike at all (except for a bruised ego); he simply hooked his head under Mike’s left ass cheek, lifted him up – ever so slightly – then tilted his head and Mike was in the water tank. And I burst out laughing. And Baby calmly looked at me to say, “Who’s your Baby? Who’s your Number 1?”
Baby is healing well. Part two of my homemade hoof treatment is a salve ~ I’d never made a salve before, but once Sir Baby’s infection finished draining, I wanted something else to put on the wound to keep it soft and protected and to aid in healing. Back to the internet to learn from the masters.
I infused cold pressed organic olive oil with comfrey and calendula, then strained the oil and mixed it with beeswax and added a little lavender oil and calendula blossoms. I slather this on Baby’s wound twice a day. It has kept the cut from scabbing, allowing him to heal from the inside out ~ a slow process but far better in the long run.
I dabbed some on a nasty barb wire cut I had on my hand (that had already scabbed over), and the next day, the scab fell off, and the day after that, the cut was closed and pink. Now I can’t even find a scar. Miraculous stuff. And it smells DIVINE.
Where There’s Smoke…
☆ July 16, 2012
…there’s fire. And where there’s fire, there’s a slew of firefighters. And where there’s a slew of firefighters, there’s an EMT or two on standby in case they need us. Job perk.
It’s been unseasonably hot and dry ~ no rain and 100ºF temps since May. Add a midnight lighting strike and you’ve got fire (two, actually, at the same time). Add 40 mph winds and suddenly the fire has a 4000 acre perimeter ~ significant for around here but nothing compared to Colorado or Montana. It was out in about a week. Though I don’t want that sentence to minimize what it was ~ the local volunteer fire guys were working around the clock during that week.
I don’t have any actual fire pictures to share ~ on the first day of the fire, Mike and I drove out to see exactly where it was and where it was headed, knowing if it jumped a certain creek it would be headed right for Mike’s cows. I was so concerned for the animals I didn’t even think to bring my camera, an oversight I cursed when we reached the scene ~ midnight at noon under a black sky, entire trees alighting before us, smoke roiling over hillsides. It was…. gorgeous. It really was. But not something I wanted to go back into a second time just for photos ~ I still have shades of PTSD from my apartment building burning down in San Fran.
Instead, a photo from the staging area (where we were stationed with the ambulance) ~ the heli that carries water to the fire. The round thing on the right is the giant bucket.
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