The Cow -- Part 2

Remember what I alluded to yesterday?  That you could buy "what appeared" to be milk at the grocery store.  First of all, may I be so bold as to declare: it's not real milk. What appears to be milk is really water and reconsituted non-fat dry milk solids.  Fortified with vitamin D.  Take a look at the label next time you buy it.  You'll be amazed as I was when I first discovered the "ingredients" (ingredients?) in milk!

Over the last decade we've all been admonished against drinking anything but store-bought low fat milk.  Scare tactics have discouraged us from even touching anything remotely resembling "raw" milk.  Even the term "raw milk" has a rather odious cast to it.  How about "fresh" milk? The implication nowadays is that consuming dairy products --"raw" and otherwise--is dangerous and threatens good health. We have a sort of Big Pharma sponsored cholesterol mania in this country as television ads pour over us nightly with dire threats of imminent heart attacks interspersed with loss of libido!

For years, margarine has been the recommended "spread" over butter; and a more recent wrinkle, ultra-pasteurization--is sold to us as the ultimate in bacterial elimination, but instead, has managed to kill most of the essential vitamins and minerals in natural milk.  UP accomplishes shelf-life extension; it is not for benefit of ensuring a safe drink.  As the number of dairies has shrunk (and their size grown), their locations are scattered more sparsely across the country than ever before; shelf life becomes a critical element in shipping "milk" to the Krogers, Walmarts, etc. and industry has addressed this issue by compromising nutritional value.

If you'd like to learn more about REAL milk and why it's good for you, the Weston A. Price Foundation   offers a wonderfully thorough commentary on what they term "nutrient-dense" foods.  Visiting their website, one pretty quickly gets a picture of the true benefits of eating unadulterated foods of all kind, including milk. I've taken the liberty here of lifting a paragraph from their rich website:

"Back in the 20's, Americans could buy fresh raw whole milk, real clabber and buttermilk, luscious naturally yellow butter, fresh farm cheeses and cream in various colors and thicknesses.  Today's milk is accused of causing everything from allergies to heart disease to cancer, but when Americans could buy real milk, these diseases were rare.  In fact, a supply of high-quality dairy products was considered vital to American security and the economic well being of the nation."

If someone wants to launch a deeper exploration of milk and what modern agricutlure has done with/to it, check out The Untold Story of Milk by Ron Schmid.  It's available both used and new at Amazon.

Sub-titled Green Pastures, Contented Cows and Raw Dairy Foods the book is a compendium of useful information including discussions about Vitamin D deficiency, which is widespread in this country.  Yes, "store-bought" milk is "fortified" with vitamin D (another ingredient), but according to Schmid, there is strong evidence to suggest that "imitation" vitamin D that is re-introduced to food, is not as well absorbed by the body as is that which is resident in natural, unadulterated foods.  According to the book, vitamin D deficiency is extremely common and adults aged 50-79 who are not getting sufficient amounts of vitamin D in their diets suffer up to four times the incidence of hip fractures than those consuming adequate amounts.  Guess what?  Natural milk from cows and other milk-giving ruminants, contains oodles of vitamin D.  I've sprinkled a few pictures throughout, just to tempt you with the goodies; the photos of strawberry ice cream, a 5-pound round of cheddar, and sunset here on the farm simply gives a small idea of our bounty.  Monday, a little on attitude adjustment. (That should keep you awake all weekend wondering just what I mean!) See you Monday.

The Cow - Part 1

Indulge me for a couple of days here as I talk about The Cow.  Some who would otherwise favor all kinds of self-sufficiency precepts, often disdain the prospect of owning a milk cow, even if they had space for it. Strictly my opinion, but they are missing out on something wonderful.  So, let's talk.

First of all, why would anyone in their right mind, in this day and age, (when you can buy what at least appears to pass for milk at the grocery store) even think of keeping a family milk cow?  Are we mad?

Probably.  And yes, we're "tied down;" (kind of...more about that tomorrow) And yes, we have to milk Johni (funny name for a girl!) twice a day, rain or shine most of the year; we have to keep her fed with hay in the winter--hay that we worked hard to put up during the summer (great exercise, especially for two elders!) baling and throwing and loading those bales onto the trailer, hauling them to the barn, bringing them back out as the snow flies; and then there's the fact that we have to DO something with all that milk--every day!  Finally, Johni is big and she is unpredictable, even cranky sometimes, and she can create her own brand of special excitement every now and again.

Nonetheless,  we sure wouldn't want to be without her.

Johni's produce gives us lots of valuable nutrition.  From her lovely ivory-colored milk, rich with cream, I make beautiful yellow butter in my food processor.  It's the only fat we use..for baking, for toast, for baked potatoes; I make cottage cheese (remember Little Miss Muffet, sitting on that tuffet (which is either a mound or footstool), eating her curds and whey? 

Well, we get the curds,  and the dogs, pigs, and chickens get whatever whey (the water-like leftovers from cheesemaking) we can't use; I make cheddar cheese and age it for over a year; I make Mozarella that melts lusciously over homemade pizzas; add to that yogurt which can be flavored with any number of homegrown fruits; and for top-of-the-heap dessert, strawberry or chocolate ice cream.  All of that from an animal that eats grass.  No grain. Just good quality grass.

And by the way it puts a whole new meaning on the phrase a "cold glass of milk" having to dress up like a stuffed chicken, milk buckets in hand, and venture out on a 10-degree F. morning to milk the cow!  Believe it or not, though,  it's exhilerating and fun!

In the next few days I'll share the nutritional considerations, excuses, sources and solutions along with other cow comments.  Hope this will be helpful to those thinking about getting a cow; and at least interesting to others who may never get within petting distance of a cow!

A Cloudy Day...

It's a cloudy, foggy, misty day here just off the one-lane road.  And it looks like that's going to be the story for the next several days.  Some might label this kind of weather "gloomy" or "depressing."  Typically Pollyanna, here, I figure life is what you make it, so make it fun!  I love rainy days.  I love the sound of the rain on the roof.  MM (husband), originally from sunny Denver, believes I have webs between my toes and moss on my back!  For me, rainy days are guilt-free inside days and I have lots of "toys" to enjoy. 

I lived in the Pacific Northwest as a child.  There, weather was more often than not less than ideal if one favored a daily dose of sunshine.  My mother was a staunch defender of our marine climate and a firm believer in the half-full theory of living--always looking for a "bright" side.

She had a way of encouraging brightness in me, too, especially in the face of (to me) obvious gloom.  If I complained that it was raining, and that I had nothing to do Mom would let me know that if I was unable to discover something captivating pretty quickly, she would find something for me to do, and I would probably like my own ideas better than hers.

So, I was motivated to dig into my full complement of simple toys, puzzles, and books...never realizing the unlying truth and wisdom of my mother's teaching until later in life.  As it turned out I still love puzzles on a rainy day, my "simple toys" nowadays are an embroidery/sewing machine, a spinning wheel, a lifetime supply of wool for handspinning; a knitting machine, handknitting supplies and yarn, my camera and computer...and, of course,  books.  What a wonderful lesson--creating your own "brightness" when none seems to exist.

West Virginia has beautiful clouds.  So what better way to gain a philosophical perspective about cloudiness and cloudy days than to enjoy some "cloudy" (bright) photos.

Sunshine on my shoulder...

Dawn had hinted at a ray of sunshine yesterday, and the day did not disappoint.  With each passing hour, the temperature climbed, until by late afternoon, it was approaching the mid-fifties F.  The creek was in full melt and had come alive.  We had, too, as the January thaw is well underway.

We spent the morning pruning plum trees, and then took a walk to see what we could hear:  the shushing of water down in the valley.  On the way, we passed a vibrant green, moss-covered pile of logs--more like giant sponges--that only a week before had been covered with 18 inches of snow. 

The ground is soggy.  It gives with each step.  The cows sink in at least four inches. Yet, every puddling footprint, regardless of species, promises replenishment of needed water below the surface.  Muddy and squidgy it may be, but gradually, the water will soak in to sustain our gardens and hayfields this coming season and continue building the water table to what might even be above normal this year.

Reaching the creek, the musical burbling and plunking of the water, coursing through the lichen-covered rocks was such a delight!

                                                    

                                                      

There's something about moving water that stirs the soul.  Simple, yet magical, beauty.

                                       

  Oh, and by the way...I miss John Denver, don't you?

Getting Off the Mountain

Getting Off the Mountain


Last Friday was “town” day for us. Living just off the one lane road, and having been snowbound since before December 18th, you would think we would have been suffering from the proverbial cabin fever.


Actually not. In fact, just the opposite. Going to town once in awhile, is a necessity, not a pleasure. Stuff has no fascination because living “out here” is pure bliss.

On the other hand, we do get to the point of needing a few things we can’t make or didn’t grow. I must also admit, though, to a certain belief in something that a friend noted, long years ago: “If you don’t get off the mountain once in awhile, Elora,” she admonished, “you get funny.”

So part of going to town, is designed to prevent “funniness.”


The best part of going, is that except for library books (vital for keeping us entertained and educated as the blizzard howls outside), we don’t really need all that much. A replacement elbow for the woodstove, some electricians’ tape, a printer cartridge, paper towels (used sparingly) We plan ahead for town trips, saving up our needs and resist impulse buying, doing our part to reduce consumerism to its rightful, but not prominent, place in the GDP.


Certainly, shopping till we’re dropping, isn’t entertainment. Nor is it one of life’s rewards, except when we shop at home. We shop for food by visiting the basement and by browsing the freezer where we find the abundant fruits of our last summer’s labor filling the shelves and offering wonderfully healthful eating all year long. Jars and packages filled with greens...

dried beans....

squash...

...and strawberries, plums, apples, peaches, chicken, pork, asparagus, snow peas, green beans, carrots, parsnips, beets and so much more. If truth be told, we eat better than royalty. Best of all, we know where our food came from. We get our milk, butter, and cheese totally fresh and with all the vitamins still intact, right here from our own cow; our eggs—at least most of the winter—are chicken-direct. So, other than a few off-farm necessities, we simply don’t need town very often.

Years ago, we had a system that allowed us to skip going out even for library books. It was called Mail-A-Book and was designed to serve more “remote” regions of the county using the postal service and their near zero postage rates (at the time) for library material distribution and return. Patrons could select, I believe, four books (for each family member) keep them for two weeks and return them by mail.

But long ago, the postal service went the way of becoming a “profit-making” enterprise, (and is now nearly bankrupt, I might add) and these types of book services were deemed “costly” and “inefficient.” So, like most good things which have served rural America, we have no rural “constituency” (translated, no money to pay off the powers that be) for maintaining these kinds of services. But I wonder, since when did a post office have to make a profit?? USPS stands for United States Postal SERVICE. As I recall, though, they went into the retail business, instead, selling Bugs Bunny neckties.

Oh, well. If we still had the Mail-A-Book program, we’d be back to the funniness issue. At least going to the library gets us cleaned up once in awhile! We just don’t spend very much, but at least we stay sane!

Sunrise...Sunset...

...Swiftly flow the days...
Seedlings turn overnight to sunflow'rs
Blossoming even as we gaze

It was in July last year when I decided to sell my flock of nine Leicester Longwool sheep (the lineage of the breed was brought to this country originally by George Washington) and make the switch from one joy, handspinning, to another--photography

Ages ago, I was a photographer, but I had decided--too soon, it turns out--that with my vision diminishing by virtue simply of getting older, I despaired of ever enjoying my inner "eye" again.  But a friend--close to my age--had a digital camera.  Envy set in ferociously.  Best of all...SHE wears glasses. And still she does graphic arts and photography.  I made my plan.

I got an eye exam followed by a pair of progressive, transition lenses, (voila, I could SEE!) and I was on my way!  We are not wealthy, so I needed to trade some assets to get the camera and PhotoShop Elements (the latter of which I wanted in order to "play" with my images.)  I looked around at things I had here on the farm, took some to the flea market and found good homes for the sheep--one of which was at Colonial Williamsburg.  The package was enough to purchase a Canon 450D Rebel Xsi with two lenses and PSE, plus a new desktop computer.

My first photograph was the shot of the sunflower, taken August 19, 2009.  Since then, I've taken close to 1,000 photos.  What pure joy it has been!

If I bring a message of any kind to Just Off the One-Lane Road--but especially to those, like me, already in or approaching the Third Age--it is this:  you now have the TIME.  And, it's time.  We've been on that one-lane road for a good part of our life, never swerving, dedicated to following where it led.  Now, though,  it's time to pull off to the side and breathe.

Follow those yearnings that center around the things you've put aside because you never had the TIME.  Now, you do.  Embrace this wonderful time in your life.  Open the shades and drink in the colors of your dreams.  Pursue them!  Yes, these are tough times economically.  But life need not be expensive, providing you have your health, as I so fortunately do.  Discover the smaller joys in living, the world in minutae.  Perhaps the horizon is closer now, but re-focus a bit, maybe take a macro view, and capture in your mind the images of a full and glorious time of your life.  Then share your vision with others who don't yet see.

So in this Janus month of looking forward and back, I take my cue from Goethe:

"Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it.  Boldness has genius, power and magic in it."

Have a wonderful weekend!  See you Monday!

Living in the Present Moment

With all this freezing and snowing of late, and the burdens of keeping animals fed and watered, it's tempting to fall into the trap of yearning for spring and summer.  Living in the present moment and finding the rewards therein--now that is the trick! 

The infamous January thaw is licking at our heels and we respond by eagerly diving into seed catalogs.  So far this year we have received at least ten.  And those new garden gloves always do make my hands itch.

We create our lists, praying that winter will soon be over so we can start those little lives on their way to providing us with our annual food supply.  But for the moment in the midst of our euphoric myopia, we're completely oblivious to the dangers that lurk for little seeds.  Thunderstorms can wipe out an entire garden given the right conditions! 

                                                           

It's a heady, monumental task, planting, transplanting, fertilizing, watering, seeing the brave little shoots through to maturity.

 

Not to mention the hordes of buggy mouths that hide above and below the soil surface, just waiting to suck the very life out of our toddler-plants and spoil all our plans. We must keep in mind, too, that those pretty little foot tracks in the snow that we've been watching all winter, multiply and turn into dozens of voracious mouths that mow gardens and decimate dreams of grandeur.

 

Apparently, the number of gardeners has increased tremendously during these harsh economic times.  Fedco and Seed Savers--our reliable sources for non-"engineered" seeds--both say they had legions of new customers last year, the thought being that the Great Recession has inspired a surge of self-sufficiency.

But have patience.  Caress those seed catalogs only so long,  and then get busy and order your seeds right away.  Soon.  The sooner the better because last year, inventories of popular varieties were reduced to zero earlier than anticipated.

And, remember, this is the dreamy side of gardening, when the gardener can conquer anything and produce food for the whole world.  It's a lot more humbling when you realize your failings about mid-July.

So, this is the time to savor the present moment.  Bask in the feeling of complete control, for soon, way past the January thaw, you'll be thinking fondly once again of a snow-covered garden, a lively warm fire in the woodstove, soup bubbling, and lots and lots of time to read...more seed catalogs.