Little Adventure

I wasn't going to write a blog post tonight.  In fact, my late afternoon/evening plans had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with the computer.  I was going to spend my hours going through old magazines and newspapers, clipping and sorting the articles I wanted to keep, and throwing out the rest.  A couple hours in, at 5:15 pm, I decided that I had better go check the cows.  It's calving season and I check the cows every few hours.  Now, I have two options I can use for checking the cows.  I can do it the old fashioned way by pulling on my boots and trudging out through the mud to check the cows in person.  Or, I can turn on the television, control the camera that's mounted on the back of the barn, and check out what's happening on the straw pile.

At this point in time, I was feeling pretty sprightly, so I decided that a breath of fresh air would be lovely and optimistically pulled on my boots.  When I got to the calving pen, I saw that #67 - a white heifer that I've been watching extra closely for the past couple of days - was calving.  Or had calved.  I wasn't quite sure.

I'm going to get a bit graphic just now.  Normally I wouldn't do this, but this is a key detail in the story.  When a cow is going to calve, the water bag hangs out of her rear end.  After a cow has calved, the afterbirth hangs out of her rear end.  In some cases, these two things can look quite similar.

When I first saw #67, I thought she had already calved.  The stuff at her rear end looked like afterbirth.  But there was no calf.  That is to say, there was no newborn calf.  #67 was enthusiastically licking (or love-mauling) a two-day-old calf belonging to #212.  Certain that she had calved, I searched carefully all over the straw pack, but found nothing.  I checked in the calf shelters, looked around the perimeter of the hay feeder, examined each and every animal in the pen, and slipped through every inch of mud, but found no new calf.  Well,  I thought, I guess she hasn't calved yet.  I'll check back in an hour.

One hour later I turned on the television.  I didn't feel like slopping through any more mud.  I moved the joystick controller around until I had located #67.  She was alone.  That poor little calf she had been licking earlier had escaped to sleep in peace somewhere.  She had either already calved or had made absolutely no progress.  I moved that joystick all over the place, but there was no new calf.  It was time to call Dad, because I just couldn't comprehend what I was seeing (or rather, not seeing).  I was so sure that this heifer had calved, but there was no evidence.  No calf.

I called Dad and explained the situation.  He said it was probably the water bag hanging out.  He would come as soon as he had finished eating dessert, so I pulled on my boots and sloshed through the slush and mud to go see for myself that there was simply no calf.  I also looked carefully at #67.  That ain't no water bag, I thought. 

My dad arrived and we chased #67 into the barn.  Dad put on his calving suit and a long glove and reached into the heifer.  To his surprise (and my "I told you so") there was no calf in there.  We went back outside and scoured every inch of that calving pen.  Still no calf.

Both stumped, we returned to the barn and my dad reached in again, as far as he could go.  Still no calf.

There was only one more place to check.  It was possible - unlikely, but possible - that the newborn calf had slipped under a high part of the windbreak next to the straw pack, and had slid into the adjoining pen.  We had sort of looked out in that direction earlier, but hadn't seen anything.  We would have to go out into that larger pen and walk around until we found something.  Before we even made it to the the gate, my dad looked way out into the pen, down the hill, and said, "Well there's a new calf!"  Indeed, there he stood, a wet little calf just hanging out with a bunch of cows that are nowhere near calving.

We walked out and checked the calf over.  Dad noted, with some surprise, that the calf appeared to have been licked off.  I wasn't surprised.  I mean, if I was a cow and some warm little wiggly thing had slid into my pen from next door, I'd sure go investigate.  When cows investigate, they often lick.  I figure that calf probably had two or three cows licking him off, while his poor confused mama went around licking calves that weren't hers and waking them from a sound sleep.

Dad carried that little calf back up the hill and into the barn, while I opened gates and doors for him.  #67 was quite relieved to have her calf back, and we left them in the barn to get acquainted.

What an adventure it is to have cows.  What an even bigger adventure it is when they calve!

What If You Were Afraid to Eat?

I hate watching/listening to/looking at food-related advertising.  It seems that every time I come across such advertising, there is an undercurrent of fear within it, and that horrifies me.

At first, I wasn't horrified.  I was annoyed, slightly disturbed, and my blood pressure would rise.  But I didn't want to make too big of a deal about it, so I would detach myself and simply write fact-based blogs, or post true food facts on my farm's social media page.  I did what I could to learn the facts of food production so I could inform myself, forming my own opinions and values and basing my practices on those values.  I also wanted to be able counter any misinformation I might come across in general conversation.  

Recently, though, I came across a study that chilled me.  The more I think about it, the greater my horror is.  The  study takes a look at the effect of food marketing on consumer choices, particularly when it comes to marketing that pits organic fruits and vegetables against conventional fruits and vegetables.  The study concluded that consumers are hearing messages that make them afraid to eat conventionally-raised fruits and vegetables, mainly because the organic marketing questions the existence of pesticide residues, etc. on these products that are raised using conventional methods.  

I already knew that consumers were worried about the safety of their food.  The new part that I learned from the study is what sent chills down my back: low-income families and individuals are receiving these marketing messages along with everyone else, but they can't afford to buy organic produce, so they simply don't buy as many fruits and vegetables as they normally would, which means they are not eating as many fruits and vegetables as they need to.

Think about that.  

People aren't getting the nutrition they need because they think their food is going to make them sick.  Furthermore, they can't access or afford to buy the stuff that marketers say is safe.  But the conventionally produced food isn't going to make them sick!  I know this because I grow crops in a conventional manner.  Yes, there are a few minor practices that I don't agree with and don't utilize, but by and large I know that any food I get at a grocery store is safe.

Somewhere in this world, probably in my own county, in your own city or town, is an individual standing in front of a grocery store produce section and making the decision to just skip buying fruits and vegetables because they can't afford the organic stuff and they are afraid to eat the conventional produce.  

What if that person is someone living on disability, who needs a specific diet to keep healthy?  

What if that person is a young mother who is afraid to feed her children these essential, nutritious foods because her family is on a fixed income and she can't afford the organic produce?  

What if that person is a senior citizen living on a government pension?

What if that person is someone in a remote town with limited access to organic produce?  

What if that person is someone you know?

What if that person is your friend or your family member?

What if that person is you?

I feel sick thinking about this.  Even cleaning out the barn didn't get me calmed down about this.  People are afraid to eat some of the most nutritious foods there are.  What are we going to do about this?

I'll tell you what I'm going to do.  I going to keep writing my blogs.  I'm going to keep learning and informing myself.  I'm going to keep using production methods that reflect my values.  And I am not going to fear my food.

Don't Fear Your Food: GMOs Are Not Evil

I was at a bridal shower recently, sitting at a table with three other women, visiting over our refreshments.  To my left was my friend, who grew up in town, but married a farmer this past summer.  Across the table was my friend's mom, and to my right was another lady from church.  Somehow, we began talking about how so many farmers had been harvesting late into the winter this year, because high moisture levels and too many rainy days had kept farmers out of the fields in the fall.  My friend's mom was wondering if someone might discover that crops left to be harvested in the winter actually have some secret benefit that would make them rather valuable.  Her musings went on until this came out of her mouth: "I don't know, maybe the melting snow and all the rain would just wash the GMOs right out of the grain!"  I just barely managed to keep myself from crumpling onto the table in defeat.  Talking isn't my favourite activity, and I certainly had not showed up at that bridal shower prepared to give a lecture on the benefits of GMOs.  Besides, how am I supposed to refute the myth that GMOs are evil when people don't even understand what a GMO is?

A few weeks after the shower, my mom picked up some gluten-free snacks for me since she knew I was having a guest stay at my place that required a gluten-free diet.  She did well, but I now have certified non-GMO stuff in my cupboards, and we had a conversation about the difference between non-GMO and gluten-free, which highlighted to me the fact that many people just don't know what all these fancy new labels mean.

Well, I'm going to try to give my readers a brief look into the world of GMOs today.  I won't go into deep detail, so please check out the "Further Reading" section if you want to know more.  And if you are wondering how to find reliable information regarding GMOs, check out my blog post, "How to Get Accurate Information."

What is a GMO?

GMO stands for "genetically modified organism."  But what does that mean?!

Genetically modified organisms are organisms (living things) that have been modified (changed) from their original form at the genetic level.  In crops, this is achieved through a certain breeding process called transgenesis, or genetic engineering.

Transgenesis occurs when crop breeders take a trait that is found in another plant, and insert the genes associated with that trait into the crop plant they are wanting to modify.  Crop breeders may also "turn off" genes associated with certain characteristics.  Transgenesis is the modification of specific genes to give the plant traits that naturally occur in other organisms.  The changes are predictable and controlled to affect just that one trait in the plant.

So, are scientists just extracting genes from one organism and injecting them into another one?  No.  The plant breeders find the gene for the desired trait in the plant that has the trait, make a copy of that gene, and use it in the plant they are wanting to modify.

Are GMOs Harmful to Human Health?

No.  Scientific studies have proven the following:

• there is no evidence that GMO foods cause
• new allergies
• gluten intolerance
• cancer
• autism
• poisonings
• any other diseases or conditions
• creating or modifying crops through the use of biotechnology is no more risky than doing so through the use of conventional crop breeding techniques
• there is no difference in the nutrition or composition of GM crops, compared to non-GM crops and there is no difference in our ability to digest them

All GMOs that are approved to be sold for food consumption undergo extensive testing to ensure that they are safe.  Some of the tests include tests for allergenicity, digestibility, and toxicity.

What are the Benefits of Using GMO Technology?

Rather than going into great detail that may bore you, I will simply list a number of the benefits of growing GMO crops.  You can check out the details in the "Further Reading" section at the end of this post.

The use of genetically modified crops

• improves soil health
• reduces food waste and loss
• improves air quality when coupled with sustainable farming practices
• helps preserve water
• increases crop yields, which allows us to use less land to grow the crops
• decreases insecticide use

What GMO Crops are Commercially Available?

The following chart tells you which commercially available crops are GMOs and what the modifications achieve:

Keep in mind that not all apples, potatoes, etc. are GMO.  Only some are.

How Long Have People Been Genetically Modifying Crops?

Farmers have been genetically modifying crops for thousands of years, ever since people began to domesticate crops via selective breeding.  However, only crops that have been improved using transgenesis are considered "GMO".

Are There Any GM Animals?

Yes.  Scientists have been working on modifying the genetics of certain animals.  A while ago, there were Enviropigs, which could digest plant phosphorus more efficiently than other pigs.  They were never in the food chain.

Health Canada recently approved as safe for consumption genetically engineered AquAdvantage salmon, which grow twice as fast as conventional Atlantic salmon.

I know this has been a very shallow look into the deeply complex world of GMOs.  Be sure to check out the "Further Reading" section for more information.

Further Reading

GMO Answers - I just discovered this website.  It is dedicated to answering everyone's questions about GMOs.  How awesome is that?!  Especially helpful is the educational resources page.

"The Farmer's Daughter" - This is a blog from a woman in the United States.  She completes the most thorough research I have ever seen in the blogging world before writing her blog posts.  I consider this blogger reliable.

"Uptown Farms" - This is a blog from another woman in the United States.  She and her husband raise GMO corn (and also sheep - to clarify, the sheep are not genetically modified).  She isn't as big on research, but I love to read about her honest "this is how we do it" approach to informing her readers.

"The GMO Labeling Battle" - This is an article by National Geographic outlining how different members of the food industry are responding to calls for mandatory labeling regarding GMO ingredients.  National Geographic isn't my favourite source for well-balanced information, but this particular article is pretty good for looking at how consumers impact the food industry.

Globe and Mail article regarding Health Canada's decision to approve AquAdvantage salmon.

Rough Morning

It is 7:30 on Saturday morning.  I am still in my pajamas, bundled in my heavy overalls and work coat, fighting through drifts that weren't there the last time I was outside.  It is time to check the cows to see if any have calved or are calving.  Actually, it's past time, but I figure everything ought to be okay.  I'll do a quick check and get back inside before my hands get cold.  I neglected to wear my heavy mitts, but for the short time I'll be out here, my gloves with suffice.  The last time I checked, none of the cows seemed close to calving.

I check the cows by the hay feeder first.  If they're eating they're probably okay, but you never know.  Those ones are all fine.  Next, I turn my attention to the far end of the corral, where most of the cows are lying contentedly on the straw pack, chewing their cud.  A few are standing.  One is lying off to the side, where a puddle or ice patch always forms, depending on the temperature.  Right now, it's an ice patch.  I briefly wonder why this cow - no, it's a heifer - is lying way down there, but she's not exactly apart from the others and she's still at least half on the straw.

I walk closer to the group of cows, looking for any signs of a calf or any cow that might be calving.  The heifer that is lying by the ice patch is ignoring me.  Her back is to me and she is looking intently at something that I can't see.

She doesn't have a calf there, does she?  No way.

I walk even closer.  There is definitely something beside that heifer.

A few steps more.  It's a calf.  And it's not moving.

Watching the mother closely, I walk right up to the calf.  The mother stands up and gets out of the way.  She's not the protective type, apparently.

The calf is stretched out on the ice, mouth slightly open, covered in snow.  There is no doubt in my mind that it is dead, but I bend down and nudge it's head to be sure.

Yes, it's dead.  It hasn't been for long.  The body is frozen, but hasn't become stiff yet.

I want to swear.  I can remember only one other time in my life when I wanted to swear.  Choking back the temptation, I leave the calf and walk around the rest of the cows, finishing my check.  No one else needs me right now, so I go into the barn to get out of the wind (my hands are starting to feel a chill), and call my dad.  It's his calf.  He tells me to put it in the calf sled, pull it out of the corral and leave it until he gets there a few a hours later.  I was going to do that anyway.

The calf sled is back across the yard, by the dog kennel, because I usually use it to take straw from the barn to the dog houses.  The dogs chewed the rope handle off of the sled a while ago and I replaced it with some twine.  I soon discover that I made the handle a bit too short, but I don't stop to fix it.  I just want to get this task over with.

Trudging back through the snow, I pull the sled into the corral and over to the calf.  The mother once again gets out of the way.  She doesn't want to leave her baby, but it's like she thinks I can help it.

I ignore her, still keeping one eye on her and all the rest of the cows, of course, because I don't want to die today.  Hoping the calf won't be frozen to the ground, I pull on it's front legs.  It is frozen down.

Sighing, I slowly work to pry the frozen body from the frozen ground.  Fortunately, it is not frozen down too badly.  Like I said, the calf hadn't been dead very long.  Maybe an hour, maybe two.  I should have checked earlier.

Once the calf is released from the ice that holds it to the cold ground, I lift it into the sled.  First the front end, then the back end.  The mother watches my efforts with interest.  Stupid animal.  She should have calved on the straw.  I should have come out earlier.  I could have put her in the barn before she calved.

I sigh away the tears that threaten.  I learned a long time ago that it's not worth it to cry over animals.

Leaving the dead calf in the quonset, where dogs and coyotes aren't likely to get at it, I return to the house.  Maybe later I'll do a necropsy on the calf to determine if it was born dead or if it died later.  I hope it was born dead.

In the house I pull off my boots, coat, and overalls.  I rub warmth back into my hands - I should have worn the heavy mitts - and go upstairs to change into my work clothes.  I have already decided to skip breakfast, so there's no point keeping my pajamas on.  Normally I would hate to skip breakfast, but there's something about prying the frozen body of a calf off of a patch of ice that ruins one's appetite.

I might as well just get chores done and then I can spend the rest of the day inside, only going outside periodically to check the cows.  I begin to plan my day.  I can do some baking, prepare my Sunday School lesson for tomorrow, do that necropsy if I can find the sharp knife - oh, and Mom is coming over this afternoon so we can discuss landscaping options for my parents' new house.

Little do I know that while doing chores I will discover that none of the cattle waterers are working.  I will spend time and energy trying to get just one fixed, flipping breakers and pouring warm water over the waterers in an effort to unfreeze them - if indeed they are frozen.  I will finally give up with the knowledge that the cows can eat snow until Dad gets home from his curling tournament.

Those tears that were so easily sighed away earlier will run freely down my cold cheeks.  I should have checked the cows earlier.  Why aren't the waterers working?  Why don't I know how to fix them?  Dad should have taught me this before now.  My frustrations and mental accusations will build up to be released in tears and sobs, in between glances at the driveway to make sure no neighbours are dropping in that might see me crying.

Eventually, my dad will come home, fix the problem (which is in the pump house, not at the waterers), and leave me slightly calmer.  Mom will feed me lunch and we will have our landscaping discussion.  I will get some baking done and prepare my Sunday School lesson.  The necropsy will wait for another day.

Every farmer has rough days, when it seems like everything breaks or goes wrong.  Those days are frustrating, but the worst are the ones that start rough, because when you've discovered deep drifts, a dead calf, and three waterers that are down for the count, and it's only 9:00 in the morning, there is no light at the end of that tunnel.