Working with calves is insanity.
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I am not a person prone to doing things part way. Consider, as an example, my fashion.
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I am not a good butcher.
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“I feel pretty secure having reached this milestone. Other businesses can try as hard as they want but I’m not sure they’ll ever catch us as long as we produce Enough.”
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I am not one who considers difficulty a necessary or inherent part of cattle rearing.
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I think it’s plain to see that I’ll soon be kicking back and relaxing with my wife and kids because I’ve worked out such an amazing strategy to save time – it’s just not quite pulled together yet.
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It feels weird taking so much time to explain something so very simple, so we avoid the awkwardness and stick to that wonderful mantra of failure: “Just do what you think is right.”
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It does not take too much time to hand write something. I find it easier to pick up a pen and jot a few thoughts in a moment of tranquility than it is to fire up the computer and open the document to do the same.
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There is something of a war going on between the folks who believe a farm is a business and those who believe a farm is not.
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For me and my sister, the biggest DO NOT CROSS line was boredom. Just alluding to the possibility of being bored conjured up Mom’s List of Suggestions that we could undertake in order to overcome our unfortunate childhood entertainment deficit.
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If we can get a handle on this one thing, nature will accomplish for free everything we’re failing to mitigate with technology, from air quality to water quality to quality of life.
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Most of my days are spent on the edge of my proverbial seat, waiting for something to go wrong so I can proclaim my rightness for worrying about it.
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If you’re thinking that beef grades are proof that people do understand beef quality, consider what it is that makes steak appealing. Is it just savory fat? Consistent texture? Reliable supply? No!
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My goodness, if that’s the whole philosophy backing sustenance production, then maybe we really are forever doomed to be on the brunt end of hick jokes passed around more urbane classes of society.
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By accepting distress, I can operate the baler very effectively using my own abilities. Inside a soundproofed cab, I felt vague and disconnected, clawing at my ears as if the motion would somehow clear an obstruction.
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Picking a specific animal out of a mob, then convincing the chosen steer to walk through a narrow gate and into a new location is a misunderstood form of art.
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Here is the impending predicament: Expectations and reality are going to collide as local-food-loving families inherit land managed by farmers they claim to support.
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New faces generate a lot of questions. Here is what you need to know in bullet point format:
YES, we are open at the Beef Barn.
Beef Barn hours are Tuesday-Saturday from 10-5. Mondays by chance.
The store (Beef Barn) has been busy, but that doesn’t mean it’s crowded. You can shop here without milling through masses of loafers.
We raise all of the cattle that produce every piece of beef available to you at the Beef Barn. Why is this important? We’ve learned a lot about diseases recently. Co-mingling spreads disease. Isolation does not. Our herds remain completely isolated from the outside world from birth to harvest.
Ask just about any outdoor enthusiast, environmental geek, or suburban homeowner for the best method to improve a specific piece of land and the answer will ring clear: get people off of it!
There are significant problems with this approach.
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This place has gone bananas. I might need some sanity reinforcement this week. Let me fill you in on the events from yesterday:
Mom, Dad, and I got dressed and headed over to Grammy and Grandpa’s house. They were home and Aunt Kate was there, too, waiting on Uncle BJ to jog in from town. Nothing unusual so far.
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