Meat Week

***Warning*** This post contains information that may be too graphic for those of you who eat In-N-Out burgers, but who don't really like to know the story behind the meat.  As you may know, I've changed my feelings about meat over the past five years.  Our dream is to catch or raise all of our own meat.  This is the story of one meaty week.

I have talked to several vegetarians who started eating meat after living on a farm.  One sweet woman told me she would have never dreamed of eating her animals, but slowly it became just part of the cycle of life. We raise Nubian goats, mainly for their milk (but also for their wonderful personalities).  The only way to get milk out of a goat, is for her to have a baby.  Cutie Pie was born early last March.  He was small and struggling, so we helped him latch on and warmed him by the fire.

Oliver and Pearl loved him to pieces.    

We have struggled with the best way to neuter and disbud a male goat in the past.  We had a veterinarian come out last year, but we weren't pleased with the way he neutered our boys.  My mom bought a neutering device so that I could neuter Cutie Pie as gently as possible.  The neutering device sat week after week untouched on my counter.  No one wanted to hold Cutie Pie down and castrate him.  As he grew, he became stronger and more unruly.  He was a wild man, and although he was almost as big as his mother, he was still nursing.  Oliver and Pearl were unable to play in the pasture without threat of injury.  We knew if we wanted to find him a home, it would involve separation from his family, a painful castration, and a life we could not control.  After weeks of discussion and thought, we came to the conclusion that ending his life and eating his meat might just be the most ethical choice.   

Goat Meat

A friend of our family is a chef and is very knowledgeable about how to slaughter an animal.  Glenn and Ben (the chef) brought Cutie Pie to the barn where he was fed his favorite food, blackberry leaves.  He had his head down in the leaves, when Ben shot him in the head.  He died instantly.  No stress.  No pain.  It hurts so much for me to look at his pictures and write this post.  I still get sad when I look in the freezer.  I try to think about all the burgers in the world that are consumed without a second thought.  Cutie meant so much to us and when we eat his meat, we will honor him.

Fish Meat

Two days after we slaughtered our goat, Oliver and I woke up at five in the morning to head out on a deep-sea fishing trip.  I have wanted to take Oliver deep-sea fishing for years.  I liked the idea of eating fish we caught ourselves.  We set out on a cold morning with choppy waves.

The boat's captain took us out to the deep-ocean water and told us to drop our bait to the ocean floor.  After two minutes, we had a fish on our line and began the long process of reeling him in.  Oliver and I were heavily medicated with Dramamine, so we were shocked when so many people on the boat started vomiting.  

At stop number two, we noticed less than half of the people on the boat were fishing.  I ignored the sounds of retching all around me and continued to drop our bait to the bottom, and reel in fish.  We caught two big red fish on one line.  Oliver was in heaven.

I just pulled in my eleventh fish, when I heard screams and saw the deck hands attempting to help a woman.  She was so sick, she passed out and hit her head.  Being a nurse, I have to get involved with everything medical I see.  The deck hands were pretty happy I was obnoxious and took over the scene.  I love yelling, "I'm a nurse!," especially in front of my kid.  I kept her going until the harbor patrol made a daring and dramatic rescue.  I think Oliver enjoyed watching the EMT jump onto the boat even more than seeing the whale.  

And with that, our trip was over.  Our nostrils were tainted with the smell of vomit and dead fish, but we were on a fishing high like no other.  We are excited for the day when Pearl is big enough, and our whole family can go together.  

The Freezer

  

Our freezer is now filled to the top with meat from our own chickens, our dear goat and eleven fish.  I'm not sure if I could handle another goat slaughter.  Or perhaps, it will get easier with time.  Glenn said the goat meat is tender and wonderful because he was milk-fed his entire life and was so healthy.  I'm very thankful to him for the nourishment he will bring to my children.  Deep-sea fishing will definitely be a part of our lives for good.  Thank you to the fish for six great dinners!

A little blog therapy for me...

When I was 22 weeks pregnant with Oliver I started having contractions.  I was sure I was going to lose him.  My midwife told me I would have to fight for him and I would never regret dropping everything to keep him from coming too soon.  I stayed on the couch praying I would be able to meet the baby boy I loved so much.

Oliver arrived at 33 weeks.  He was the most beautiful three-pound creature on earth.  From the moment I met him, I worried.  I worried about how the NICU might affect his personality.  I worried about his abnormally-shaped head and his tiny body.  I worried about what his future might be like.

At age four Oliver had major surgery to correct the birth defect that had been misdiagnosed for too long.  I was angry and felt guilty I had ruined his chance at a normal life.  I worried more about the affects of surgery and if he would ever look "normal."  I worried he would have delays in school because of prolonged pressure on his brain.

Several months after his surgery, Oliver began having stomach pain.  He stopped growing and became irritable.  He had multiple symptoms such as fevers, sweating, shaking and headaches. He was pale.  I stayed up late researching diseases.  I worried he had cancer.  I worried he would need another surgery to release pressure on his brain.  For a year, I worried he would never get better.

Six months ago Oliver tested positive for the gene that causes Celiac Disease.  We took him off wheat and he began to feel better.  He started eating and sleeping.  He stopped shaking and sweating.  He started gaining weight.  In the past month, Oliver has reached his goal weight and has caught up academically with his peers.  He looks and acts like a regular six-year-old.  It has taken me six months to shake the worry, but I think I'm finally there.

Oliver auditioned for and was cast in a local production of The Little Mermaid Jr.  I sat in the audience last weekend, watching him sing and dance and I could feel his joy.  I don't think I've seen him happier.  I don't think I've been happier.  My little boy is going to be just fine.  

The Truth About Pigs

Wow, I have been a terrible blogger lately.  I'm working full time and with two kids and two new pigs, I haven't had anything left to give.  In January, we adopted an adorable pig names Rutley.  Rutley is a miniature pig, which means he won't be as large as a classic farm pig (he still could grow as large as 200 pounds).  We have learned SO much about pigs, I thought I would pass on our knowledge to others interested in adopting a pig.  We read a lot online about pigs and was promised certain traits by the pig breeder.  I would like to clarify a few common myths about miniature pigs.

Myth #1:

Pigs and dogs make perfect companions.  This is false and I find it scary that most miniature pig breeders spread this untruth.  Dogs are carnivores.  Pigs are delicious.  What more do I need to say?  We quickly learned that our sweet dog could not be left alone with Rutley.  Rutley was not able to speak "dog" and would quickly anger Pumpkin when he failed to pick up on subtle dog clues.  They are cute much of the time, but I would not recommend leaving a dog and pig alone together ever.

Myth #2:

It is okay to adopt just one pig.  You will end up with two.  I promise.  Just go ahead and pick out two at the very beginning.  You will thank me in the end.  Life with one pig was overwhelming, but when we brought Truffles into the mix (we thought Rutley was depressed), our lives were just slightly less complicated.

Myth #3:

Pigs love baths.  Sure, pigs might like to splash in some dirty water on their own terms, but just try to put a pig in a nice bath of water.  Then add some shampoo and see if you can handle the high-pitched screams.  Rutley is a mellow pig and we were able to quickly bathe him while he gorged on peas.  Truffles would have none of it.  She does, however, like to stand in her water bowl.

Myth #4:

Pigs make great house pets.  I really wanted this one to be true.  I thought it would be just like having a puppy.  Pigs need an indoor and outdoor area.  They need to have dirt to push around.  Pigs would rather use the restroom outside (see Myth #5), and they do not like being carried.  Please do not even consider a pet pig unless you have plenty of outdoor space.  If you have kids, they will insist the house is a fine place for a pig.  I'll admit, we did have some good times.

Myth #5:

Pigs are easy to house train.  Rutley came home with a case of the runs.  We took him to two veterinarians and tried all kinds of remedies.  Still, he squirted.  He squirted on walls, under tables, down my shirt, and behind the fireplace.  Our house, for three months, smelled like the bottom of a porta potty.  The pig farmer offered to take him back, but we loved him, so we carried on.  Occasionally, he would squirt in the litter box and our optimism would grow.  We brought home Truffles and she quickly began using the litter box.  Rutley followed suit much of the time.  The problem with two pigs using a litter box is that they are not cats.  They have feces the size of a dog, but go five times more often.  It's a miracle our marriage survived the three months they lived in the house.  We finally got to the bottom of Rutley's diarrhea (it was a bacterial infection) and he now has regular stools.  The pigs have since been relocated to the barn.  Our sanity has been restored and the pigs are enjoying life outside as well!

                            

Rutley and Truffles now have a perfect pig pad in the barn, complete with a comfy sleeping area, an indoor retreat and a small yard.  We (meaning my dad) are in the process of building them their own pasture.  Pigs are wonderful, friendly farm animals.  I highly recommend having a pig for a pet if you are okay with lots of poop, loud squeals, snuggling only on the pig's terms, and if you are willing to have two.  Pigs are a joy and we are happy they have joined our family!    

Any pigs we own in the future will be rescue pigs.  We have since learned that pigs are abandoned quite frequently.  Another lesson learned!

A Post for Future Turkey Farmers

I thought I should give you a post-Thanksgiving turkey follow up post.  Here is a detailed Cost-Benefit Analysis of our turkey business for anyone interested taking on such an adventure.

Cost: Financial

The night before the big slaughter, Glenn and I got out our calculators and notes.  We had no idea how much our turkeys would weigh.  Glenn added up all of the bags of food, poult price, and slaughtering fees.  We determined the turkeys would have to weigh over 11 pounds each at our price of $6/pound to break even (and not pay ourselves for any work).  Glenn was slightly disappointed when he picked up the turkeys and their weights were in the ranges of seven to thirteen pounds.  Most were under ten pounds.  I had been warned (by a wonderful heritage turkey farmer) I needed to raise the price to $8-9/pound to make a small profit, but I wasn't sure they would sell.  Because they were relatively easy to sell (I only advertised on Facebook a couple of times), I don't think raising the price will be a huge problem.  We also need to start raising the turkeys earlier in the season to give them more time to plump up.  

Cost: Time

One difficult aspect of raising turkeys, is keeping them out of the mouths of predators.  We had to be home each night before sunset to wrangle all of the turkeys and lock them up for the evening.

Cost: Emotional

The weekend before the turkeys went to slaughter was a dark time in our house.  Glenn and I were depressed about the impending slaughter.  I had nightmares and wanted to lay around in my sweats all day.  I caught Glenn sitting on the couch in the front porch gazing at the turkeys.  The morning Glenn had to drive the gang to the butcher, he had the most difficult task of all.  Glenn had to make "Sophie's Choice" and decide which turkeys were going to live and which were going to be food.  Once we knew the turkeys were gone, a huge weight was lifted and we could focus on them being food and delivery of them to our customers.

Benefit:  Education

Raising turkeys was such a wonderful learning opportunity for our kids and ourselves.  We learned about turkey behavior, the meat processing industry, and  poultry anatomy.

Benefit: New Pets

I love having turkeys as pets.  They follow us around the farm, chase off stray dogs, and just look cute walking around.  You can read my whole blog post about the benefits of turkey ownership (see previous post).

Benefit: Community Farm Movement

I feel really good that we (as a community) saved turkeys from the major meat-processing industry.  I love that so many people got behind us and were willing to pay (a lot) extra for quality, humanely-raised meat.  Plus, when your customers CARE about about their food and the welfare of animals, they tend to be pretty cool people.  This is one of the reasons I wanted to keep the cost down the first year.  Did we stick it to "The Man?"  I like to think we did.