Happy Birthday Tom Vilsack!

It's secretary of agriculture Tom Vilsack's birthday!

kale is a vegetable. chicken is a bird.

Vermont sort of loves kale. Some wise man started making stickers and tshrits that say "Eat More Kale" (eatmorekale.com). And now Chick-Fil-A (who is already on my shit list) has decided that this little catch phrase encroaches on their brand and wants to sue this guy. Well, naturally good Vermonters everywhere including governor Peter Shumlin aren't gonna stand for this.

Read more about our dedication to our state vegetable here: http://www.vpr.net/news_detail/92656/shumlin-forms-team-kale-to-support-local-t-shirt-a/

Burned

I knew there was a difference before I started. I knew there was a difference between reading and planning and budgeting and, you know, the act of flinging yourself off a cliff that is starting something new. Lately it seems like a constant battle to keep positive. Even thought I knew that there would be things that I never thought of to contend with, I didn't really anticipate how many of them there would be.

Last week I came home to find that the goat had learned to climb the ladder to the hayloft, walked across the floor and onto the ceiling of the milk house. Then she fell through, knocking a 4x8 piece of plywood onto the water spigot breaking it off, flooding the milk house and 1/2 the barn. But don't worry, I got the plywood back up and the faucet fixed and the goat is fine, only because I cannot yet turn an animal into curry with the force of my rage.

And then there was the carpenter who after doing quite a bit of nice work for me decided to fuck me over to the tune of 800 bucks. Again, another person that has benefited from by inability to castrate things with the power of my ire.

I came home the other night and found that my aunt had posted the speech that my cousin gave at graduation on the internet. It's all about how we're pretty conditioned to try and avoid mistakes, but that really this is how we learn things. Well, trust me, my mistake to learning things ratio is in the 99th percentile.

But then I bring the cows in the barn and Paulina goes right in her pen and Moxie goes right into hers and they lay down with a sigh and chew their cud. Tiny calves come and nuzzle up against me for apple slices and people who come by to work on the barn say how nice the cows look. At the farm where work I give meds and pull a calf without incident and back the dump cart into the squirrely tiny garage opening on the second try.

"Chin up, tiger," my friend says and kisses me on the forehead. "You'll be on the road to prosperity soon. Either that or bankruptcy," he chides. "But no one will accuse you of being faint of heart."

Here's my cousin's graduation speech

what? i have a blog?

It seems like all I've done this summer is work for someone to make money to give to someone else. I bought my wood, my meat, my cows, my hay, my sawdust and of course supplies for the milkhouse. And always there is something else I want. A cast iron pot, a tiny yoke, a lantern chimney that isn't broken. But of course, this is nothing new. My friend lent me the lovely book Up in the Morning Early, a book of old photographs and recollections of Vermont in the 1930's. It begins with the poem "Farming It".

"FARMING IT" IN VERMONT

I've wondered all my life how 'tis
A farmer gets along so well;
He has so many things to buy
And such a precious few to sell!
His calling calls for such a snarl
Of tools, equipment, traps and gear,
I don t see how he saves enough
To go to Boston every year.

A legal gent can start in trade
With nothing but an office cat;
The town lot booster only needs
A little deskroom in his hat;
But Mr. Farmer has to have
An outfit, and that isn't all,
That outfit has to stand the strain
Of Summer, Winter, Spring and Fall.

He even can't slip into town
A day like this without a sleigh,
A harness, blanket, whip and lash,
A laprobe, horse and hank of hay;
While other "toys" that help him do
His work with neatness and despatch,
Are logging bobs, a traverse sled,
Some blasting powder and a match;

Two heavy harnesses, an axe,
A saw and sawbuck, adze and bar;
A hoghook and some candlesticks,
A tackle block and pot of tar;
A suction pump, a skein of chains,
Two kettles of capacious brass;
A barrel each for pork and beef
And soap and cider applesass;

Hoes, cultivator, weeder, cart,
A winnowing mill and Fairbanks scales;
A roller, cheesepress, pung and plow,
A hammer and a can of nails;
A 'vaperator, holder, tubs,
A sapyoke, pan and flail and churn;
A spreader, tedder, scythe and snath,
A grindstone and a boy to turn;

A sprayer, sprinkler, wagon-jack,
A canthook, shovels, stoneboat, sledge;
A nest of measures, baskets seven,
A beetle and an iron wedge;
A shotgun, fishpole, sickle, forks,
A government report on "Soil";
A harrow, barrow, sheepshears, vise,
Some Spavin Cure and harness oil;

Three kinds of rakes; horse, bull and hand,
A cradle, sheller, woodchuck traps;
A hayfork, planter, mower, drill,
An extry pole and holdback straps;
A ladder, lantern, saddle, dog,
An oxyoke and a yoke of stags;
A buggy, gig and lumber rig,
And last, a span of working nags.

No other business or profesh
Can come within a hunderd miles
Of such preparedness, and yet
The buying farmer buys and smiles;
He knows that when he fades away
The auction bill will spread his fame,
And show, although his name be Smith,
That he had something to his name.

look how tiny-dorable!

Rosemary's foster farmer took this picture of her. Is she not the most adorable calf you have ever seen? (Sorry, Lucky).

a better deal than a treasury bond!

My awesome farm property is really coming together. The pastures are getting fenced, the milk house plans were okayed by the carpenter and I even have a cow or two. But one of the biggest challenges for new farmers is obtaining lines of credit for capital expenses. Because you are a new farmer and because farming is inherently a risky endeavor (being dependent on weather and nature and all) banks and even the Farm Service Agency are reluctant to lend you money.

So I wanted to put it out into internet land that I'm accepting loans from the general public. They can be for any amount. I will repay all money lent to me in 3 years plus you get 10% of the value that you loan me each year in farm products. So, for example, if you lent me 100 dollars, you would get 10 dollars in farm products each year until I paid you back. Don't live in VT? I can send you goodies in the mail!

feel free to email me at ivy at smirx dot com to find out more about how you can earn my undying gratitude.

how very meta

Today, as I was cleaning the mangers out, "The Splendid Table" came on the radio. I don't often listen to this show because I think it can be a little bit annoying and my co-worker thinks it's really annoying. But the host was going to interview Anthony Bourdain so I figured I'd hear what he had to say. Then, she had Gordon Edwards on to talk about being a punk turned cheese monger in San Francisco, and I am always interested in anyone who is a punk turned anything. So, I stayed tuned for that also. And he started talking about our farm! On the radio! While I was cleaning the barn! It was very exciting. You, too, can share in my fleeting self-referential-ness by listening here: http://splendidtable.publicradio.org/listings/110709/ (scroll down to the Gordon Edwards link if you don't want to hear the whole show, although they do talk about mint dressings and sausage).