Local Food. And Dreaming About A Farm.

This post is basically part 2 of Motivation. I’m still dreaming about expanding. So please just humor me. Thank you.

I’ve got goats in my head and they won’t go. Sheep in my head and they won’t go……

……..

Any Strumbellas fans out there?….no? Just me? You don’t know what I’m singing about? Well then. Let’s just move on.

Two years ago when we started planning on having a backyard farm it originally was just a way to feed ourselves. But the more I have dove into this life, the more I have talked to people – farmers and consumers – I have discovered that I’m not alone in my unquenchable thirst for fresh, local, humanely grown food. The more I learn, the more I want to produce.

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Because we need to go back to small farms.

We need to fix the broken system.

I can’t do everything. Nor do I really want to. Let’s be real.

It’s ok that I have a pig guy, a honey lady, contacts in the goat world and contacts in the egg world. It’s ok if I don’t produce everything myself. Growing wheat just isn’t my thing. But if you grow local GMO free wheat then hook a sister up! I’ll trade you something that we have. If we all only grew one thing and grew a lot of it, there would be no need for the grocery store. There would be no need for corrupt industry. There is always going to be a need for community, and the more local your economy is, and the stronger your community is, the better off you’re going to be.

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If you can’t have eggs or fresh milk because of where you live (and you’re not as crazy as I am to just do it anyways) – then find someone who can produce it. Can you can? Bake? Make soap? Sew? These are all bargaining chips. The more I get into the underground world of backyard farmers the more I have come to realize that none of them like to pay for services, but you offer up a trade and they’re more than open to it.

I could sit around for hours talking about food production. It is the one thing that gets my hands flying and I’ll prattle on until I’m blue in the face. Sometimes I get really excited and start yelling. Because that’s just who I am as a person.

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And most farmers are like that too. I’ve been over to visit a farmer who is raising pastured pork many times. We sit around in the kitchen, sip coffee (and tea for me) and talk about how our food system is going to hell in a hand basket. And then we bundle up against the cold and go out to see the pigs. He tells me about what they’ve been eating. I see how they’re living. They’re not penned up in a cage where they can’t move. They’re digging in the dirt, looking for bugs and eating roots. They’ve been dining on apples, pumpkins, local greens, fresh eggs, kitchen scrapes, and when they bust out of their enclosure they head straight for the giant garden and mow down anything in their path. (This is comical to me, because I’m not the one raising them. I just get to enjoy the lovely bacon.) I cannot begin to tell you how excited I am over this pig. Fresh food just excites me. Talking to local like minded farmers excites me. Raising animals properly excites me.

Someday getting to become one of those farmers excites me.

Being patient is hard to do.

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For now fresh eggs and milk will have to do. Although the goat demanded to dry off and the hens are hardly laying because of their molt but my egg customers are still yelling for fresh eggs. So I’ve got homemade bread. And not much else. Until of course I start selling that too.

Then we’ll just be empty plated.

Such is life.

Please pray for the big farm. We’re working on something big that is extremely terrifying but if it works our dreams might finally become reality. So keep us in your thoughts and prayers dear friends.

And amen.

A

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