Party for Two

                    

When I was in Tennessee last fall, I was generously hosted by an older fella who proudly showed me around his state, his cattle and his business. He was gregarious and warm and lively. He also wore a brightly coloured, large lettered Trump shirt and did not shy away from talking politics with this nose-ringed, organically-minded, east coast Canadian. I love a political discussion so we got along quite well and one thing he said has really stuck with me.

    “There was a phrase I heard that said, ‘If you’re under 40 and you vote Republican, you have no heart. If you’re over 40 and vote Democrat, you have no brain.”

As someone just barely tipped over that maybe arbitrary precipice, I’ve been considering what it means for me. For those lifelong card-carrying partisan party die-hards, the idea that affiliation is so loose as to be influenced by something as passing as age, this concept may be borderline offensive, but I’d suggest that for a large portion of the population, some version of this may be true.  It’s true for me, in that I have grown more fiscally conservative as I age and I do look more critically at some of the social programs that I would have previously vocally defended. 

But given todays global political climate, I think this quirky phrase bears a reconsideration. How to decide when brain or heart should lead is a question we could ask ourselves about any decisions, but especially pertinent now as things feel more unstable and unknown than ever. 

But maybe choosing between the two isn’t the item of importance here. Maybe the real story is acknowledging that both are important and that having a multitude of voices is what makes up a democracy.  Maybe the real moral of the quirky phrase is that surely we can recognize within ourselves that there is value in all perspectives and villainizing one side or the other will only come back to bite us, as individuals and as part of a larger community. 

I know we’re being pushed into corners that want us to choose, corners that say “this is the heart-leading corner. Get in here with the rest of the people who care and have compassion and empathy.” Or, alternatively, “come to the corner of brain-leading. We make the best decisions and in the end, all of this clever strategy will pay and we’ll all be better off.”

And between the corners is a space where lots of people would like to go, but it’s impossible to rest there with all the screaming and yelling from the corners on both sides. “You can’t have it both ways!!! Take a side! Take a stand!”

And as long as we’re all yelling at each other, neither side ends up “winning” and instead global powers slowly grab more power from the powerless and billionaires find ways to grab more money. 

Instead of dividing yourself into a group that is wholly voting against something rather than for anything, try finding a middle ground with your neighbour on the “other side”. Listen with a curious heart and a vulnerable brain and remember that above all else, we’re all just humans who want love, security and good health. And if it feels like the chasm is too wide and deep between how we get there, consider that the other side feels exactly the same. They feel similarly threatened, unsafe, distrusting and anxious. Surely no political opinion is worth breaking relationships over when in the end, it comes down living in the same community, the same family, the same workplace and being there through both real hard times and true joy, together. Don't burn a bridge over a man in a suit when in the end, it will come down to a friend on a porch.  

Our Obsession with a "Good Deal"

Who doesn't love a deal? I spend probably too much time on Facebook marketplace, scouring the Island for good second hand items. I occasionally purchase books or games or craft supplies from Amazon when I can't find them locally. I get all the same ads that everyone else does for cheap clothing and consumer goods from China. And if I work hard enough I can convince myself that I deserve to save a bit of cash as a hard-working, well-meaning person who is noticing a tighter pocketbook and a higher grocery bill. 

Let me interrupt this little celebration of good deals with a seemingly unrelated story. 

The Uyghur people are a minority population in China, mostly of Muslim faith. They have their own language and culture and while they have existed in the north western region of China, Xinjiang, they identify more closely with more central Asian nations.  

China doesn't like the Uyghurs. There have been several human rights groups identify drastic crimes against humanity, including sterilizing Uyghur women, separating children from their families, attempting to break cultural traditions and putting more than 1 MILLION Uyghur people in "re-education camps".

Satellite images show rapid construction of camps in Xinjiang, the home region of Uyghur people. Photo from LA Times.https://www.latimes.com/business/story/2023-06-15/temu-sells-products-linked-to-forced-labor-in-china

The camps are not just housing and detention. Those who have escaped have reported physical, mental and sexual torture. But there are also factories in the camps. The factories produce clothing and consumer goods made for fast fashion retailers like Temu. 

Xinjiang is a major cotton-growing region, but primarily harvested by forced labour. The US even banned cotton from Xinjiang due to human rights abuses related to the labour conditions of harvest in the region but the Chinese companies have figured out various ways to ship smaller amounts (but many of them) to avoid triggering the $800 threshold that requires border protection and investigation. 

Most human rights organizations say that it is not a difficult assumption to make that between the cotton harvest and the slave labour in the factories, China is using the Uyghur people to manufacture the cheaply made goods coming from retailers like Temu. 

So back to a good deal. If we are a global people and what affects us, affects everyone, how good does our cheap deal look now? If we're dismayed at the state of our population, our mental health crisis, our opioid epidemic, our housing crisis and our 'cost of living', does 'saving money' by supporting companies like Temu, really help us as humans?  Does getting that cheap knock off sweater from Shein that will last one season, really elevate our energy in the world, as a human sharing the planet with other humans? 

Not to mention all of the creators on Etsy whose beautiful hand crafted goods are being stolen and remade in China by these "re-education camps" using fabrics that are not safe to wear anyway (so just imagine the conditions in which they're made).

I know, I know, everything is expensive now and we donate to charities and we pray for world peace, what difference can our few purchases really make? Aren't there organizations and government agencies responsible for managing these problems? 

Yes. But also we are responsible for managing how we spend our precious dollars and understanding where our money goes and how the things we buy are produced, grown, flown and shipped. We need to stop chasing the race to the bottom on all fronts.  Cheaper food!! Cheaper clothes!! Cheaper building supplies!! Cheaper furniture!! Cheaper cars!!  We have immense privilege as North Americans that most of us are justifying squandering away in favour of filling our lives with cheap shit at the cost of other people's lives.  

Stop supporting Temu. Our dollars will talk louder than any slow government can.

Brazilla vs Kong

If Brazilian ag was a creature, I picture it as Godzilla, emerging from the ocean, preparing to eclipse a nearby North American city, as seen in the movies. Maybe it's a friendly Godzilla, well-intentioned and not dangerous at all. But there’s no denying its scale and strength. And at this point we don’t even know how much is still hidden under the water. Each year, it’s still growing in production and exports, from 20-40%, depending the commodity.

Before I went to Brazil, I hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about it. I was worried about the Amazon and knew that soybeans and beef were a big deal there and that was about it. None of that was misplaced but there’s a lot more to it, obviously. For scale, Brazil is roughly the same size as the contiguous US, or Australia with equally varied landscapes and growing conditions, although proximity to the equator means they can achieve two harvested crops per year, plus some grazing in between (following under-seeded corn to grass).  It wasn’t unusual to see a combine harvesting soybeans, followed closely by a corn planter. It was also common to see a crop in all its various stages within an hours drive. Soybeans being planted, harvested and at every growth stage in between. The lack of highly varied seasons makes for accelerated rotations that can do a whole lot more than us northern hemisphere folks limited by winter.

While Brazil has historically been through a roller coaster of export-driven markets from brazilwood to coffee to sugarcane to rubber, it’s been a roller coaster that has been steadily climbing up a hill with no great downfall anywhere in sight. Large scale agriculture there really only took off in the 1970s so it’s a relatively young country in the big ag world and it has taken some valuable lessons from those “developed” countries who are now trying to recover from decades of soil exploitation. The ground is rarely bare in Brazil, partly due to those two crops per year, but also because there is an acceptance that cover makes sense. They have put all their eggs in one particular grass basket which seems like a bit of a vulnerability but the Brachiaria variety of grass resists pests and grows well under Brazil’s conditions. It is sensitive to herbicides so requires lower doses in a no-till system and does well as fodder for cattle.  There is quite a robust network of researchers and extension agents for farmers at all scales and the trust and respect between the two seems very strong. 

The rules around deforestation are clear but enforcement may be spotty and it depends on who you talk to when it comes to the perception of fairness. The policy makers are clear on the rule being 20% of any private land holding must not be cut down, which is to say that 80% can be cleared.  Within the bounds of the Amazon, those numbers are reversed and it is 80% of any land holding must be maintained and not cut down. The governor claimed that penalties for breaking these rules were very severe, from large fines up to jail time.  But this also means that 20% of deforestation in the Amazon region is perfectly legal.  More than one farmer, when pressed about international pressures in regards to deforestation in Brazil said, “Bah, all the rest of you already cut your forests centuries ago, it’s our turn.”  One cannot help but be simultaneously dismayed and empathetic with this perspective. 

As a country that can grow a full sized hardwood tree for timber in 7 years, compared to our 45 years, can harvest two cash crops in one year and is still continuing to increase exports and yields year over year, Brazil could be the biggest ag-Godzilla the world has ever seen. But with great power comes great responsibility and to turn a blind eye to the crisis of the Amazon in favour of focusing on productivity, no matter how successful, is to ignorantly accept the “if I’m going down, you’re going down with me” adage, to detriment of us all. 

In a world convinced that it will be unable to feed itself soon (totally false but propped up by the “science” and the deep pockets of chemical and fertilizer companies), Brazil is doing its damnedest to fill the gaps and as it stands today, will continue to grow in leaps and bounds for years to come. By that measure, Brazil will soon reign supreme but by failing to recognize its very strong dependance on tenuous inputs and economies of scale that are exactly as efficient as they are vulnerable it will be very interesting to see what it looks like in a couple decades from now. Will Brazilla (see what I did there?) become the force that dwarfs King Kong (the other major producing and exporting countries)  or will they fall on their sword of currently-justified hubris? 

(Not Godzilla, just an ANACONDA that was in the same river I snorkelled in!! Glad I didn't see it while I was in there with it!!!)

'Nuffin' to see here

 I thought I had worked through all my insecurities when I primed myself up to apply for a Nuffield Scholarship. It took me several months of thought and internal debate. Months of trying on the idea of travel and time away from the farm. It was the inspiration for my solo bike trip to the Maggies, proving to myself that I could do scary things. I filled several pages of a couple journals, working out all kinks in my confidence, convincing myself that I was worthy, clever enough, experienced and not just doing it to prove  to everyone, but especially me, that I am a legitimate farmer. 

That was 2022, 2023. Yet here I am in the early days of 2024, making real travel plans to places where I'll be sitting down with folks who might ask me questions that I probably should know the answers to and I'd rather crawl under a nice wide tree canopy and stay there. 

As a young woman, in the final days of waiting for my first baby to arrive, for some reason I became fixated on having enough receiving blankets, those soft flannel, rectangular burp catchers and baby wrappers.  My recurring nightmare in those last days was coming home from the hospital to not having any receiving blankets. Laughable even then, in the tornado of hormones and insecurities. 

And now, in the final days of making plans, spending money, booking flights, finalizing connections here I am, worried about not knowing the answers to questions like :

PEI's average annual rainfall, our farm's soil type, the variety of clover in my pasture mix, seeding rates for everything, the number on the side of our grain drill, how many horsepower our tractors are, the current price for beef on the commodity market, average yield for grain corn in the Maritimes, going price per bushel for every crop, organic acres on PEI, and on and on. 

The kind of easy, friendly chatter that creates a comfortable bond, a reciprocal sort of agreement between farmers that we're all in this together. But I don't know those things, not off hand. I'm not great at farmer small talk at all.  I could easily find the answer to all those things in a matter of minutes, mostly by mining the mind of my very legitimate farmer husband. He sits comfortably in a room of farmers, able to chit chat with any of them. 

And yet, I know both of us would claim I'm the people person. But farmers aren't regular people are they? They carry a library of facts that they've built over generations of working with the elements and they carry a certain reverence for those in the same boat, and a very quiet surprise that there are those who don't carry the same library. 

I know by the time this is over, those questions will feel as silly as a deficiency of receiving blankets but right now I'm entirely caught up in the minutiae of human relations at a farm level. I thought maybe putting this out in the world, it would help get it out of my mind and set me free, but maybe writing down just a few of those questions that so many farmers just unconsciously learned as barefooted kids only highlighted my foolishness. What am I doing on this adventure? How did I think having the Nuffield name to open doors would also lend me credibility when it comes to relating as farmer to farmer over a kitchen table? They'll see through me so fast, know that I love cattle, but don't understand the cost of production like I should, don't appreciate the depth of the current reliance on synthetic fertilizer in our globalized food system, don't know the first thing about equipment maintenance, am as debt-averse as it comes, am often confused by the lingo at annual accountants meetings, etc. 

How did I fool Nuffield Canada so thoroughly that I'm at this point in the game?  

And don't worry, I know I've got lots going for me, and that these things won't matter that much. It's more of a sign of this becoming real, this hyper fixation on foolish, irrelevant things.

Mostly I'm posting this so that future scholars who get themselves to this point, can see that they're not the only ones.  And for me, to read later on and remind myself how far I've come. I'll probably never remember the model number of every (any?) tractor we own, but I can talk to anyone and my Mom always said I've got the kind of smiling face that makes people feel comfortable, so I'll just rely on that I guess? *laughing/crying/mostly laughing I think*

Quite a post for my first Nuffield one eh?? Inspired to follow along or WHAT!? :)

When The Opposite of Popular is Depopular.

 Renting hens is far from central to our business, but it is the most profitable thing we do. And even at that, it's not a make or break part of the farm.  But it does fulfill a value I have of promoting food awareness and food security. It brings agriculture to those who would otherwise not know where to start, not have the opportunity. It builds confidence in people to try things like gardening, canning, try other livestock, start to notice the difference in the quality of food. It gets people thinking about the food their food is eating, which is something most people don't do. 

Yes, renting hens is a cute story and a cool side hustle, but last year we opted not to do it because of the new threat of avian flu. 

I had decided that this year, I would give it a go, on a smaller scale. Partly because the demand was SO high and because there haven't been any cases of the flu here in domestic birds. There were lots of wild bird cases in the sea around the Island last year, but none managed to infect the thousands of poultry that live here. So I felt like maybe it was ok to give it a try again. 

Until we had a little visit from someone representing the perspective of the egg producers board. It was a very cordial visit and ended on good terms but it was clear that how we're farming is a threat to the livelihood of others, farming differently.  We're within a couple kilometres of a couple egg farms who would be affected if my farm was affected. Although, similarly for me, should they get it. 

And when I say affected, they could be forced to depopulate (euthanize) their flocks. Same as me, should they get it. Or similarly, if one of my rental hens should get it, it could be decided that my flock is a threat, even if the rental hen is in Souris and then we're all 'depopulating' (what an odd euphemism). 

While renting hens may not be a cornerstone of our farm profitability, making feed is, and that business could be halted if avian flu is found here due to vehicles being unable to move on and off the property. Kind of hard to sell feed if it can't leave the grounds. Let's not even begin to talk about all the folks who come here to get their feed for their backyard hens. 

So here I am stuck between a rock and a hard place. The pressure and risks of avian flu which may or may not happen and the potential to introduce the love to hens to a bunch of new folks this summer and foster a love of real food connection. 

I lean more and more into libertarianism as I get older and if I lived in the states, I'd likely be laughing in the face of something like the egg board, renting more chickens than ever just out of spite. But I want to be a good neighbour. I want to ensure we keep our feed business going. I don't want to feel like a threat to an entire commodity. I also want chickens to live lives outdoors. I want folks to experience cracking a still warm egg for breakfast. I want kids to train a chicken to follow them around. I want folks to ask what's in their chicken feed and care about the answer. 

I can't help but wonder if our egg and chicken industry in North America is so incredibly vulnerable to a disease because we've built it around breeding of chickens that are designed for one purpose and have no ability to cope with exterior threats? So much so that the barns are airtight, light-tight and so biosecure that workers have to change clothes to go in. What a surprise that they might be vulnerable to different pathogens. 

I suspect that Avian Flu will become like Covid is for us now. Always in the background, a real threat to some and less concerning to others. Does it mean I will never rent hens again? I'm sure some would hope that would be the case. 

So what do I do?  Forego the few thousand dollars and share my values in other, less effective ways? Or snub my nose at the 'guidelines' and my neighbours and send my little hens across this sandbar, spreading the chicken love, one feather at a time?

Duplicitous Denny

In college, at the end of the year, we'd have a night called "Drink the Pub Dry" in the name of clearing out the fridges for the season, in the form of cheap liquor. 

In the agricultural debate that the PEI Federation of Ag hosted this week in the run up to the election, I was reminded of that night, for the first time in years. I listened as my premier bragged about the time he approved a Pump the Dunk Dry during a "drought that was as high as it's probably been" for farmers whose irrigation permits had been 'shut off'. He foolishly went on to compare the sprinklers being used in downtown Charlottetown to the watersheds of the potato belt here in "the middle part of the province".

Denny King's own civil servants had to sit in committee and answer questions from concerned MLAs following that decision by the premier, that he was so proud of and those very civil servants agreed, time after time, that it was indeed detrimental to the watershed, it was against the rules and was a bad decision. 

https://www.saltwire.com/atlantic-canada/news/dunk-river-pumping-would-have-contravened-water-act-regulations-pei-civil-servant-tell-committee-100574243/

Why the needs of a potato crop would be put before the needs of residential wells or the water needs of a livestock farmer would be difficult to fathom anywhere else in the world. But not here in the Potato Republic. Apparently thats exactly the kind of thing that you can be so proud of that it's central to your debate strategy against the other party leaders in a provincial election. 

My main concern is not even the rash decision or the bragging about it. My primary frustration with this scenario is Denny's duplicity. You can be sure that his debate notes (spoiler, he doesn't really have any because he's so condescendingly confident and cocky) for the Environmental Forum didn't mention this wonderful decision he's so pleased to take responsibility for. Pulling from the handbag of tricks of the greasiest politicians of yore, King will say whatever it is that he thinks the people he's talking to want to hear. This was evidenced when he was recorded making statements about the drag and trans community, or even, for heaven's sake, CBC radio! He had to backtrack and pretend that they were out of context and apologize. But we all know that he is that kid in high school, so eager to be voted onto student council, that he'd sell cigarettes to the smokers, while simultaneously helping to draft the petition to get rid of the smoking area with the try-hard kids.

I started this election as a sincerely undecided voter, but it's become increasingly clear to me that the current government has no interest in my opinion, my water security, land use, reforestation or any other number of topics relevant to voters here on PEI. To our faces, maybe, but once we're out of earshot, it's just an eye roll and a shake of the head, a dismissive snort and back to the game of selling PEI and her resources to the highest bidder and the best lobbyist.

PEI is not a pub to be emptied of the old booze, and we're not a bunch of college students, all too eager for cheap drinks that we'll swallow whatever drivel you're feeding us. 

Questions for Candidates

The Canadian stereotype of politeness is often dismissed by some and certainly there is no shortage of examples to prove otherwise, but I think that Maritimers may be particularly polite, if not downright friendly, as a default. With the provincial election called here on PEI this week, it reminds me that sometimes folks find it hard to strike a balance between polite and assertive when party candidates show up at their door. 

I've only ever had one politician come to our house and it was years ago, when nitrate levels were the topic du jour, particularly in our potato belt district. This particular politician tried to convince me that what had been overlooked in all the hullabaloo about fertilizers, was graveyards and the amount of nitrates coming from decaying bodies. Needless to say he did not get my vote and he remains a household joke to this day. 

Mark's family are not overtly political, unlike my roots. So I expected to have more politicians arrive through the years, vying for my/our affection. Then I made the move of outwardly supporting one party, which likely quashed any chances for candidate visits. *sigh*

But this year! This year, I'm a clean slate, a truly undecided voter. I'm certainly leaning but its not definitive like other years, so I'm hopeful for a door knock and an opportunity to be swayed. To prepare, I've made myself a list of topics from which I'd like to hear candidates' thoughts and figured maybe other polite Islanders might find useful as a reference.

• If you could pick two main priorities for yourself as a candidate and also for your party as a whole, what do you think they would be?
• How do you spend your leisure time?
• If you had a significant surplus, can you think of a better way to spend it than to give everyone making less than $100,000, a $500 bonus at tax time? (hint, the answer should be yes)
• Deforestation is a major concern of mine and there seems to be very little willingness to wade into the topic by government. What do you think should be done to address deforestation in the province? What can be done to encourage diverse plantings of native species on available land? Are you aware of the impacts of deforestation on a region and the greater community?
• Just what the heck is going on with the GEBIS and the land down in Kings County anyway? The whole thing is shady and I want to know what your party has planned to address the issue of land limits and those who are skirting them with loopholes.  This includes the Irvings. If your party is elected, how would you address conflicts of interest in land sales when currently final approval comes from Executive Council?
• On a related topic, how do you feel about the water use legislation and the permitting process for new irrigation wells? What is your party planning for water conservation going forward? Does your party have anything in the platform regarding water use in this province?
• What's your take on the rent control situation here on PEI? Has it been fair to both renters and landlords do you think? How could we do better?

• This one is particularly for the incumbent candidate but regarding health care, it was nice to see some ideas and plans in the platform but why were these held off until an election?  They seem like ideas that should have been implemented a year ago when it became clear that we were headed for disaster. Why wait until now and why should I believe that you'll implement anything now and not just decide to wait until the next time you need votes? 
• And if it's an opposition candidate, what are you most proud of from your party in the last term?

That would probably take as much time as they could give me for that day, and the answers to the first couple might tell me everything I need to know to form an opinion. 

Feel free to make use of these questions when you get a knock at the door!  This might be the only time you ever hear from your representative so you might as well make it count now!

Let the Games Begin

I've been spending the last few days trying to figure out why I haven't been reading commentaries like the one I'm about the make.  Is there some risk to one's social license? Is it politically dangerous or unpopular? There must be some reason because surely I am not the only one critical of the current wave of temporary green and blue garbage covering the Island in the name of the Canada Games. 

In a province crumbling under a health care crisis, dealing with their first real experience of a significant community of folks suffering from homelessness, still very much in recovery from a hurricane and shaking off the weights of pandemic restrictions, it is truly astounding that no opposition politician is asking a single question regarding the budget for the Games and how any (inevitable) overages will be managed. 

One oil truck driver claimed that he has been dispatched to the nordic trails every day since November, to fuel up a generator for a snow-making machine, which made the snow onto a wagon that hauled it into the woods by a Games-purchased tractor, only to melt over the following days. Like some kind of manic, oblivious manifesting would keep this mild winter at bay and continuing to throw money at the problem would solve Mother Nature's shortfalls in the snow department. 

That is but ONE tiny part of this massive undertaking, so lauded as the saviour to the local economy. A local economy that is seeing a VERY significant portion of its population gone to the tropics, taking advantage of the unnecessary extra week of holidays as a result of the Games.

But my questions about foolish choices and over-spending are nothing compared to the shock I'm experiencing from the lack of empathy or consideration for the folks hardest hit by this whole show of fiscal foolishness. Working parents who cannot afford to take one or two week's vacation and must now find child care that they also cannot afford for the extra time their kids have off school. And those lower and middle income kids for whom even the $10 entry fee to any of the events is cost prohibitive.

So essentially, we've asked the folks who are already hurting, to take on just a little extra financial stress in the name of the goddamned Games, that are not even accessible to them. 

Perhaps the thing that irks me most, is that rather than standing up and giving me a hint that any of the politicians share even one of my concerns, they're all too eager to get big toothy photo ops with the Games mascot, Wowkwis, causing one to wonder which has more stuffing in their head. With the writ expected to be dropped before the green and blue banners have even been taken down, or the jackets taken to the Value Village bin, there is a drunken energy in the air around any incumbent, no matter the colour. The tone-deafness of politicians celebrating about taking in multiple events, during most people's working hours while for many families, even one event would exceed the entertainment budget of many households, rather than taking the opportunity to take the government to task is a bit of a shock. 

If I have to see one more picture of a local politician with their arms around that fuzzy, big-headed fox, grinning like fools, expecting that their enthusiasm for this show of money and mismanagement will impress me, they can Wowkwis me arse.

Extreme Cold Prep

 Frigid. Arctic. Extreme cold.  Whatever you want to call it, the weather is finally doing what it's supposed to be doing, which is to say, getting cold. Perhaps a bit colder than we'd all like and maybe for not quite as long as the traditional "two-week cold snap" we often encounter in January or February but at least this winter we're going to get temperatures cold enough to hopefully give some of those summertime pests a dent. Last year's mosquitos seemed more numerous and voracious than I ever remember (do I say that every year?) and I attributed it to the too-mild winter. So I'm hoping that when I'm walking out to water the bull on Saturday morning in -50 degree, 100km/hr winds, I'll remember those August nights of mosquito swarms while I shut in the hens. 

The curls on Beowulf, the Belted Bull. Doesn't he have the best head?

I know the Galloway cattle are better prepared than most for cold temperatures. Their ears are covered in long, shaggy hair and they've got curls for days all over their heads.  Their thick coat is lush, they're pretty fat and they've got pretty stellar instincts.  Combined with the barn I shouldn't think twice, but of course I worry and wonder if there's more I should do. One of the girls seems to have shed some of her ear hair and I know when I'm laying in bed on Saturday night I'll be wondering about her ears. Oh #13, I hope you snuggle up close with #16 who seems blessed with especially long hair. 

We've had to designate one cattle barn as beef and the other as dairy, which is hilarious, given that only one inhabitant produces milk but "the cow barn" was leading to far too much miscommunication in a relationship that already has its fair share of communication mishaps.

Anyway, the dairy barn is housing the beef heifers while they are weaned, along with Petunia, and their door is to the west so we're planning to shut it once things start to really cool off but the heifers have never really been in a barn, and are still a little worked up about the weaning so I hope they appreciate the warmth more than they're stressed about being shut in. 

The other animals of concern are the hens, who will hopefully avoid any frostbitten combs. We put plastic over their windows and made alternative watering arrangements for when it inevitably freezes up. I'll give them some cracked corn the next couple evenings to warm them up from the inside out while they sleep and try to gather the eggs every hour or so in the mornings. 

Other than that, I'll be curious to see if Hagrid, the maremma opts to head to the barn at night. He so loves the cold and snow that it's so rare to see him choose the indoors, but Lennox, the Australian shepherd has been sleeping in the barn at night for a few weeks now. 

As for me, I'm off to NB to pick up our bacon and hams and sausage from our favourite butcher and tuck in with my parents in what we jokingly are calling the hottest place on earth, which is my Mom's kitchen with her sweltering wood stove working overtime at all times. Mark is going to hold down the fort, on pipe duty and Lucy is going to be on egg gathering and animal watering. 

In unrelated news, I have been having a horrible week on the board game/card game front. I have lost miserably and I don't just mean not first. I mean, I've been bringing up the rear in the score of a 5 person game! I am not accustomed to this, nor comfortable with it.  Last night after losing badly in Carcasonne, I insisted on Five Crowns, which I promptly lost as well by 200 points. I was tempted to insist on one more game of something in an attempt at redemption, but opted instead to go to bed, knowing if I lost another one I'd hardly be able to sleep.  Ugh. Tonight is hockey, so let's hope my losing streak doesn't translate to the ice!

I'm trying to think about what my future self might want to read and I think they will feel like I'm already stretching it with board game stats, so I'll sign off for now. 

May this find you putting up your thermal curtains and digging out your heaviest quilts and looking forward to the hunkering down.

-Sally

Dear Past Sally, thank you!

 I've been struggling in this new year to really settle into my goal of reducing my use of social media in favour of working towards my goals of writing more, reading more, playing more guitar and just generally being more present in the now. That subtle addiction to short, intriguing Instagram posts and videos is unbelievably powerful. 

After making an action plan for how to combat that omnipresent pull to pick up my phone, I decided to check out some old blog posts. when I used to share farm and family stories weekly, or even more frequently. Seems like 2010 was a banner year for posts on For the Love of the Soil and this post from October had me simultaneously laughing and incredulous that I have very little memory of the life detailed within.  I know my house was fairly chaotic at that time and it's inevitable with little kids that things will be unruly, but I am so thankful that I documented all of it!

And thankfully, re-reading those old posts has inspired me to take back up the sharing of stories from the Barnyard. They're decent reading, but more than anything are an invaluable snapshot of life that I am so thankful to have to look back on.  Future Sally will inevitably love these posts as much as current Sally is enjoying the old ones. 

So here's a start:

Last week I picked up our pork and beef from our favourite butcher shop. Our three pigs, Destiny's Child, and Thor, the jersey steer came back in banana boxes and the 6 of us worked hard to get them all vac-packed and in the freezer quickly.  That large vac-packer was probably overkill for the CSA at the time, but it's been incredibly useful, however infrequently. That said, I think I'd like to try wrapping some things in butcher paper next year. The roasts, and chops with bones don't do so hot with the vac-packer, often puncturing the bags and missing the point. 

What a blessing and glorious fruit of our labour to have the freezers full of the meat we raised! 

(No, we're not selling any.  Seems we 6 humans eat an awful lot!)

We FINALLY got some snow after what felt like a never-ending mud season in January of all months! It wasn't a HUGE dump or a terribly nasty storm, but there's enough to cover the fields and make some drifts. The kids have been taking advantage of two snow days off school to wear the bottom off one of their (expensive) LL Bean snow tubes but hauling it behind the four wheeler and seeing how many of three can stay on while the fourth tries to whip them off by doing donuts.  Lucy hit the frozen, heavy concrete planter by the front step hard enough to knock it over, so they're getting velocity and momentum!

The Belties are doing great and thoroughly enjoy their barn.  One of the OGs, #25, came into heat late last week, but by the time we managed to get her in with the bull, we had missed the heat, so it's on the calendar for next month.  I was torn about breeding her now as it'll mess a bit with the schedule for next year, but it seems more prudent to have her calf in October than let her get too fat all summer on grass, only to get bred in September.  

I'm trying to take the positive out of this situation, which is to say that I THINK she's the only one who came into heat, which hopefully means that Beowulf, our bull, did in fact manage to breed the rest of the herd. 

We castrated the little bull calf that arrived on New Years, Buster, which was a bit sad, given that he is purebred to fancy genetics, but my management capacity can't at this point manage two bulls with the mere hope of selling him as breeding stock. (That's one thing I was stunned at reading my old blogs. It seems we had unlimited optimism and confidence as younger farmers! Breeding sheep, getting a dairy cow for the first time, purchasing extra chickens, making first-time dairy products, all with multiple babies underfoot and almost no experience with any of it!  I don't read much doubt or worry in any of the posts. Just a wide-eyed wonder and enthusiasm that seems to have more-than carried over any hardships. While I don't feel "old" I think that is a defining characteristic.  Am I overthinking it all now or was I under thinking it all then? Good on ya young folks, you're what makes things tick along at break-neck pace!). So all that to say, Buster will likely be our first taste of Barnyard Organics beef at some point in a couple years!

Mark's new blue tractor is meeting all expectations and making him a very happy farmer. There's some talk about PTO problems or implements not matching the power of the tractor or some such thing, but generally things seem to be working fine.  Here's to optimism for planting season!

Our farm hand, Browen, is away for the month of February, which adds some challenges in some ways, but also reduces Mark's mental load in ensuring valuable work for someone else. It also means I'll have to step up to be the feed miller more reliably, which is fine. 

The kids are well. I'm really enjoying raising teenagers (which is incidentally the mantra I repeat when Lucy is particularly difficult to deal with). 

I don't want to risk losing my audience (is anyone even out there?) too soon so I won't go on with further details just now, and I have to get out and make sure my bull has water on this chilly morning but I'm thrilled to be back! Stretching these particular writing muscles feels like a deep, delicious yoga I'd almost forgotten. 

May this find you feeling some winter sun on your face and crunchy snow under your feet!

-Sally

Eating Each Other's Food

Our household isn’t growing by numbers anymore, but our collective appetite is in a stage of exponential growth and one I expect to continue for a few years yet. Mark and I are not small people and neither are our offspring and we all love to eat. We acknowledge, nearly daily, how lucky we are to be able to raise and eat the food we do. We say the name of the animal and the part we’re eating, we talk about the farmer who grew the veggies, or the country from which some exotic ingredient came. We’ll research how something we’re not familiar with grows, how it might be harvested, how it gets to us. We’ll marvel over the colour and stain of a pickled beet, the yellowness of creamy, summer butter, the orange brightness of egg yolks from pastured hens and the flavour of the milk when the cow moves to fresh clover. We’ll all give a new cheese a deep whiff, gently poke at rising bread, nip some chilling cookie dough from the fridge and crunch into a sweet, cold carrot from the winter storage, gripping it with a mittened hand as we make our way back to the house with a bunch for supper.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t get in a rut and tired of cooking. Some days, especially if I haven’t prepared anything in advance, it feels like drudgery and I start to resent this part of my job. I’ll mutter to myself about time wasting and hastily throw together a meal of relative convenience that checks bare-minimum boxes of completion and nutrition, but is hardly inspired or inspiring. Like, who decided that rather than just eat wheat, we should have to grind it up, make flour and then turn that flour into arduous pasta, or pie crusts, or bread or crackers. Why do we go to such lengths to put together some elaborate cream sauce when we could just eat some garlic, drink some milk, chew some herbs and save all the time and effort?

 

So this year, with my usual new years resolution gusto, I decided I wanted to avoid those occasional resentful moments in my kitchen. And I got to thinking about an idea I heard a couple years ago that suggests that at the most basic level, our entire purpose here, as humans on earth is to eat each other’s food. 
We might have grand ideas about the change we’re making in the world, or the importance of our careers, our goals, etc. But at the foundation of it all, at our very core as part of humanity, we’re here to be a member of a larger community and within that community, we eat. 
Why not make it awesome? Why not perfect that favourite sauce, why not make the fluffiest pancakes, use the sweetest cream from a cow on alfalfa pastures, find the best variety of corn for our garden soil, explore new flavours and interesting ingredients? 
 
When I’m able to think about it in that context, I start to think that we’ve actually been tricked into thinking cooking is drudgery and the kitchen is a jail cell. It’s easier for the profits of food companies if we think that so that we’ll buy more convenience foods, we’ll rely more on others to keep us fed so we have less control over what we eat and how it’s made. If we believe the lie that food is complicated, expensive and better left to someone else, we’ve missed the entire point of being here. 
 
To eat each other’s food.

to be continued...

One Helluva Pipe(dream)

Big numbers can be tricky to get ones head around. It's why they get kindergarten kids to bring in 100 of something on the 100th day of school. Our brains sometimes struggle to grasp the enormity of big numbers. 

 340,000 is a huge number. I've been trying to get my head around just how big that number is in the context of litres.

A Boeing 747 uses 14,400 litres of jet fuel per hour. So 340000 litres would be enough for a 24 hr flight and then some. 

A round, backyard pool measuring 15 ft across and 5 ft deep holds 25000 L. You could have nearly 13 pools in your backyard and still not have 340000 L of water in them. 

A large milk truck holds roughly 20,000L. So you'd need 17 milk trucks to hold 340,000 L. 

Yet, somehow last summer, a pipe moving liquid cow manure through a culvert and across a field burst and for three hours, gushed liquid shit at a rate of 340,000 L PER HOUR. FOR THREE HOURS. That's a total of well over 1 MILLION LITRES OF TOXIC LIQUID MANURE in a matter of THREE HOURS. 

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/prince-edward-island/pei-farm-fish-kill-manure-fined-1.6395209

I keep waiting for this number to be corrected in the CBC article, thinking it simply cannot be correct. But it still stands, a day later and is based, presumably on court documents, so must be correct. It is little surprise then that the reported number of brook trout was 600 and that's just the ones they found. The nearby public beach was closed for the season and shellfish was limited in the area. 

The take away from this article is not about this specific farm however. It's not even about the shit or the fish. It's the fact that we've designed a system to heralds the capacity and size of farms like this. We've placed efficiency and cheap food on such a high pedestal over the values of sustainability and ecological awareness that we shouldn't be shocked when disasters like this happen. 

We can discuss the multiple dangers of liquid manure another time, but consider that a small farm wouldn't likely be moving manure so far. They wouldn't be moving it by pipeline. They wouldn't have such a large pipe or pump system. Manure wouldn't be a waste product to be rid of, but a valuable input to be managed and monitored closely. A small farm would never have found itself in the position of being in court for spilling liquid manure at a rate of THREE HUNDRED FORTY THOUSAND LITRES PER HOUR.

$50,000 is a significant fine in the world of PEI agriculture and it might even lead to changes on that farm. But it doesn't do anything to move us toward a system of more, smaller farms with more farmers and happier neighbours. 

The Dangerous Part

 The argument over whether the trucker convoy headed to Ottawa is a bunch of hillbilly-anti-vax-white-nationalists or the most hopeful momentum of protest against government restrictions is a distraction from what I think is the real tipping point here, and it only serves to continue to divide the country even further.

This has grown into a much larger issue than just vaccine choices and while some will certainly frame the protest in such a light, given the scope of support it's seeing, I think it's important to consider that it is much more than a single issue movement (and in fact, some would argue is not about vaccine choice at all). 

When Trump was elected, I was among those who was astounded and confused. And I stayed that way for the first months of his election, confused over the support such a deplorable leader could rally. But the more I paid attention to the kind of folks who were behind him, the more clear it became that it was less about him as a person and more about him as a boisterous voice, an attention getter. He was offering a very public and loud voice for a large segment of people who felt ignored and marginalized.  Whether they actually were or not, is up for debate in a different article, but they FELT they were and they were angry about it. 

I think we're seeing a glimpse of that with this Freedom Convoy. There are a lot of people who have kept their opinions to themselves about the rules and regulations over the last couple years. The risk of saying anything against the rules was to risk being labelled a careless, selfish bigot who doesn't care if vulnerable people die so rather than question a publicly supported narrative, a lot of folks have kept to themselves. Some, more vocal folks have fanned dangerous flames on the internet, spawning lots of questionable information and garnering support from some vulnerable folks. 

But there are a lot of people who roll their eyes at the angry Facebook warriors and still have questions that they're scared to ask and are frustrated at the limited dialogue. Just as there were a lot of folks who didn't attend Trump rallies but who still quietly put their vote beside his name because they finally felt heard. Just as there are a lot of people in support of the convoy who have never posted a comment on the internet, waved a flag or complained to you about any of the rules. 

So if you're someone who has been publicly critical, shared a dismissive article, maybe posted a clever meme or come up with a cynical new pun for the name of the movement, consider that there may be someone close to you who you assume has the same views as you, but has just been keeping to themselves because that is what is acceptable. Consider that by sharing your negative views of what is (thus far) a peaceful protest that is clearly supported by a lot of folks, you're making yourself yet one more unsafe place for that person to turn with their questions. 

And if your reaction to that is, "Good! I don't want to be a safe place for 'anti-vaxxers'! They're not worth my time!" then it's time to consider that you're no better than the most vocal, unmovable protester and we'll never reach common ground as a country. 

And the problem with that, is that we risk electing officials over ideologies and not policies. That's where things get dangerous. 

Values Chain

 I've been putting off writing this. For all kinds of reasons, but mostly because I just don't want to acknowledge what's in it. 

We have to raise our feed prices. 

Womp womp.

Sometimes we get teased that we're the vertically integrated Irving-esque organic farmers of the region. We grow much of our own seed for our own grain, for our own feed for our livestock that we process and market ourselves. We didn't start out that way, but I will admit the comfort I take in some of our food security here, to a degree. 

And I think as a result of that vertical integration I thought we might be immune to all the wacky fluctuations happening *gestures wildly about*. I think I foolishly thought that because we knew our cost of production and our margins, we could to control the pricing and honour that crucial part of our values statement that says,

"Barnyard Organics is a diversified, family-friendly, soil-focused farm with a priority on organic integrity from seed to feed and keeping products fair and accessible to the regional community."

I knew better. I know enough about our upside down global food system to know that no one is separate from the policies and politics that affect our food. Including us. 

As East Coast Organic Grainery grew, we have had to purchase more and more grains from other farmers. And we're thrilled to do so. It says right on our bag how much supporting organic farmers matters because more consistent demand means more acres turning over to organic production. Which means fewer pesticides & chemical fertilizers and more emphasis on soil biodiversity and agroecology. But those same organic farmers have choices of where to send their product and we can't blame them for choosing the highest bidder. If a broker in Ontario will pay $1500 per tonne for raw organic beans, we can't expect them to take last year's price from us, just so we can keep our feed prices the same. 

We saw organic field pea prices rise last year and a general shortage meant we had to source from outside the Maritimes for the first time which meant a subsequent rise in the price for peas. It was our first sign of things to come.

Overall, this current price hike is due mostly to the significant increase in the price for soybeans, one of our main staple ingredients. But all the grains have gone up. Which means all of the feeds have gone up. Even the SoyFree options. 

We know that choosing our feed is already a decision made based on values. Not the lowest value, but the highest valueS. Like wanting to support a local mill, Maritime farmers, soil health, non GMO, simple ingredients, organic grains, etc. And because we share all the same values, we absorbed the higher costs for a while, hoping this blip would pass and we could get back to ensuring our feed was accessible to all those who wanted it. But now, even after trimming our margins and having a hard look at all the excel sheets and data, we can't absorb it anymore. Prices are going up. 

And it isn't easy. There are undoubtedly cheaper options out there. Some of you may be forced to switch based on dollar alone.  We understand and hope that you will be back. We will still continue to insist on the best grains, simple recipes, high quality minerals and really great feed.  

 We're all swimming upstream against this strange and sudden tide of inflation that no one can make sense of and no one seems to be able to avoid or control. 

This is an outtake from an OLD Christmas card of ours, but it feels appropriate for the moment. Things are a little fuzzy, a bit confused, not quite aligned and we sometimes put on an overdone smile, but we still hold out hope. For it all.

Warts 'N All

 Well well well, three holes in the ground. Or in this case, just one big hole with a bunch of PEI potato farmers tossed in it by the Feds while politics plays itself out in the theatre of cross border posturing. And one "farmer" sitting up on the edge of the hole looking down, grinning and counting his money.

We all know how much I love to hate Cavendish Farms and the Irving oligarchs. But if this current situation isn't one in which to take a more critical look at them, I don't know what it will take. Of all the businesses and farms affected by the potato wart border closure, Cavendish farms is the one business that stands to BENEFIT from it all. As buyers of potatoes, they now rest as the closest and easiest market for all the potatoes from the fields with wart and now all the potatoes that won't be sold across the border. Desperate farmers who are watching their market go up in smoke will be looking for willing buyers and who will be gleefully rubbing their hands together at an abundance of local spuds at reduced prices? 

Even if the potatoes DON'T go to them, what is their incentive to keep the wart in check? They are virtually unaffected by any fresh potato border closure and are always looking for more product so besides the hassle of extra cleaning of their gear at digging time, and some extra CFIA oversight (for which they have people hired to deal with), why would they be particular about keeping it contained? What is their inventive, as a business that buys potatoes that are not sale-able, and then buys farms that are no longer viable because of lost markets? 

I know there are lots of farmers and employees on PEI who will never speak their mind on the Irvings for fear of retribution, loss of contract, loss of employment, etc. But until we look this exploitive monopoly in the face and call it what it is, we're just continuing to rail at the heavens, clutch our pearls and pretend we don't know any better. When we know better, we can do better and now we know. 

VHA (vax hesitant anonymous)

 My name is Sally and I am vaccine-hesitant. I'm here because I am scared about the reactions and expectations of people when they learn that about me and I thought if I shared it here, it won't be such a shock for my friends and family when they see me in person. 

My concern is strictly on long term effects. I don't buy into any of the computer chip, anti-science rhetoric, but the companies producing the vaccines will be the first to admit that they have no data on long term effects. I understand how the vaccines work, both the mRNA and otherwise, and I understand the work that has gone on for decades prior to these being available today. Many will think that I have been influenced by radicals or extremists, but the truth is that I just want more information and time before making a decision.

To be clear I'm not all-vaccine-hesitant. All my own and my kids' vaccines are up to date and I believe in the importance of herd immunity against diseases that we know have saved pain and strife for so many over the decades. I had hesitancy against H1N1 when it was all the stir, but ended up taking the kids in for that one as well. 

I will not be supporting my children getting the Covid-19 vaccine in the near future. 

I got my own first dose of Pfizer in early June and it was under duress and great anxiety, but I knew that my province would not allow me to freely visit my out-of-province family without it. Since long term effects is my concern, it is less of a concern for me than what I perceive for children. 

When I compare the data of children contracting Covid as well as the data around children getting ill from Covid, to the data of myocarditis showing up in adolescents (particularly boys) following the vaccine, I cannot wrap my head around justifying the vaccine for kids. Some science suggests that children can pass the disease to others, but with vaccine rates so high, especially vulnerable populations, I continue to struggle to understand the pressure on 12 year olds to receive a shot that carries more risk than the risks associated with the extremely low rates of Covid symptoms in kids. 

None of this opinion should matter, except that my home province of PEI has made it very burdensome to travel without vaccination. For example, my two children who are over 12 and have not been vaccinated will be required to isolate for 8 days upon returning from NB to visit their grandparents who they haven't seen in 7 months. This means they are not to leave the property to go to the beach, to go to sports, to see friends, etc. Given that we usually go to NB every second weekend, that would give them roughly 4 days every two weeks of 'freedom'. Their isolation includes multiple trips to the testing clinic 20 minutes away, and they cannot be tested at the check point at the border, so thats another special trip. 

But again, none of this is even the greatest concern for me. It was a recent moment at a bonfire with friends when it became clear that one friend felt that vaccines should be mandatory and children without them should be kept separate from those who have the shot. I knew these opinions existed, but I foolishly assumed that it would be those on the fringes. Just as I'm sure she thought that those who weren't getting their kids vaccinated were on the fringes. I suspect we surprised each other and it was helpful to hear the perspectives of others. 

But as I slipped away from the fire to take some deep breaths and consider what I was feeling, I realized that a lot of my anxiety about going home, finally, after all these months, lie in worry over the opinions I'll meet there.  Will my assumption that family ties are stronger than emotions about vaccine choice prove true? Can I hug everyone without worrying that someone will turn away? Will I be invited to all family events, knowing that some in my small family have chosen not to vaccinate? Will anyone confront me and share anger over my choices? Will my 'home' be a safe place? 

It's this anxiety over what this pandemic has done to relationships that breaks my heart and keeps me up at night. I 100% support the choice of everyone to do what feels right for them. I am so glad that there is a vaccination that helps people feel safer and able to move around again. If it doesn't make me feel safer, and in fact feels scary, where do I stand with the people I love? Can we agree to disagree or is my family a perceived threat to those who feel vaccination is necessary? I'm at a loss to reconcile these parts of who I am and I am so tired of the all-consuming space its taken up in my head and heart. 

So there it is. Are we ok?

The Barnyardigans Grow Up and Get a Schedule

 

The closest we've ever come to a strict schedule around here is "No one works on Sunday (besides the mandatory livestock chores)".

But with planting season approaching and the feed mill busier than ever, we're testing the waters of a new scheduling system which is going to require a little more planning on the part of our customers. Any orders of feed being shipped directly to them, including retailers, should expect two delivery days per week. We have been, to now, shipping on demand, but to streamline things a bit for space and human resources, we're hoping that a regular schedule will help (and maybe even get us some better shipping quotes?).

As for folks who pick up at the farm, please note the daily shut down from noon-1. This is going to be a tough one, since it seems that many customers like to come at meal times, but if someone comes between those times, they may have to wait until 1. 

Behind the scenes of all this is a more scheduled feed mixing schedule as well. We're hopeful that Monday and Wednesday will be enough to complete the orders for the week. So for example, if you place an order on Wednesday night, it means that it won't be made until Monday morning and then shipped the next day, Tuesday. We recognize that this could pose some real challenges for folks who have gotten used to our on-demand service.  We will be flexible for the first few weeks, but are hopeful that we can all transition to this schedule in order to ease the pressures on everyone at this busy farm.

I hope that this does not create a difficult challenge for you, outside of a little added planning. Happier feed millers must make for better feed?!?

Thank you so much in advance for your understanding and willingness to give this a go. 

Sincerely,

Mark & Sally