Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers who are reading, as well as to all the grandmothers, aunts, and fathers who stand in for mothers on a daily basis (I know there are a lot of you out there, that might not be recognized on "Mother's Day" often).
... In a city far, far away... I tried for thirty-eight hours to convince Eldest to come out to play with the rest of the world. I'm so glad she did. (It's all hitting me at once. She tried on her cap & gown for me last night. Her senior prom is tonight. Panic, pride, and nostalgia on my part.)
On Saturday, Hubby & I spent several hours at a local farm whose incredibly tasty products we recently fell in love with. I wrote about this yesterday. If you haven't read it yet, do it now. Really. It will make you all warm inside.
During our time there, I learned a lot of new information about dairy production, and I learned a lot of information I thought I knew about dairy production. Here's what I learned, in no particular order. As you'll soon see, a lot of hot button issues really simply depend on the dairy and their individual practices.
1. Mechanical milking is not necessarily bad for cows. In reality, there is no way to physically express all the milk from a cow's udders by hand milking, nor can a single calf drink all the milk in her udders. A milking machine most efficiently expresses all the milk, reducing a cow's risk of developing mastitis. As Todd Moore (owner/operator of Lavon Farms, which supplies the milk for Lucky Layla Farms' delectable products) pointed out, his cows show up willingly in the mornings at the sound of his voice to be milked. If the machines hurt them, they wouldn't be such willing participants.
2. Different cows satisfy different priorities. Just as different breeds of beef cattle produce different grades of meat, different breeds of dairy cattle serve different purposes. Moore's family farm has been raising Guernsey and Jersey cows since the 1930's. These breeds were chosen, Moore points out, because their milk is of exceptional quality, with high butter-fat and protein content, though the quantity is much less than other breeds. For example, Guernseys & Jerseys produce about five gallons of milk daily, whereas Holsteins produce at least twice that amount but of lower quality.
3. Pasteurization is necessary, but somewhat evil. We tasted raw milk while we were at the farm, and it was absolutely delicious. Unfortunately, the law prohibits any farm that has a creamery from selling raw milk in addition to the finished, pasteurized products, due to possible cross-contamination. Pasteurization, unfortunately, kills a lot of luscious flavor in addition to the germs. If run in a clean, safe manner, dairies can produce raw milk that is as safe as pasteurized, but the law is designed, I'm guessing, to protect consumers from the farms who are operating for quantity of sales, not quality of conditions.
4. "Antibiotic-free" is a marketing ploy which ultimately means nothing. Having organic certification means that we are guaranteed that cows are not being given a steady stream of antibiotics to try to prevent infections, thus possibly increasing antibiotic resistance in humans. Sounds okay so far, right? However, it also means that a farmer cannot give a single round of antibiotics to a cow who has a non-transmissable, but still painful, infection like, say, mastitis. Additionally, milk is so highly regulated that farmers have to submit milk for testing on a regular basis; if any antibiotic is found, the milk isn't accepted. Antibiotics very rarely will ever make it into the food chain; you may as well buy "gasoline-free" milk. Knowing your dairy is very important, as is being able to ask them questions. If you can't find a local dairy, try Organic Valley. They are a sort of co-op situation that works with individual family farms. Horizon Organic may as well be a factory farm; they've been questioned numerous times for pushing the limits of technicalities for their organic certification.
5. The national average lifespan of a dairy cow is a pitiful three years. I wholly believe this is due to the stress of constant antibiotics and growth hormones given to increase productivity; sooner, rather than later, those cow's bodies wear out. Moore's cows live fully twice the national average, and this cow, named Sybil, who was getting ready for an appearance at Whole Foods, is ten years old. And due to calf in June. Happy cows apparently live longer lives. Imagine that.
6. Calves weigh between 40-100 pounds at birth. I never, ever would have guessed this. Looking at these "adolescent" calves, at about 12 weeks old, I wouldn't guess their weight to be 200-400 pounds, either. Guernseys & Jerseys weigh in at adulthood between 1000-1300 pounds.
7. Gestation for cows is nine months, the same as humans. Sometimes human intervention is required for calving, but most often cows handle delivery all on their own. Hubby, who is an anesthesiologist, and I found it quite amusing when Todd relayed that his wife, after giving birth the first time, came home and proclaimed that all the cows should be given epidurals when they labor.
8. Calves do not stay in the pasture with their mothers. The first surprise that greeted us as we drove up the driveway was the area where calves are kept. I wanted to be appalled; after all, the calves are kept tethered to their own individual "cow house" (my term) and the ground cover is large pea gravel, not grass. Upon inquiry, however, we learned that the babies are separated very early to prevent sickness. Just like sending a kid to daycare, if one baby, with a weaker immune system than adults, gets sick, it can spread like wildfire. After 10-12 weeks, the babies are moved to a pasture with other youngsters for a time before heading out with the big cows. The pea gravel was very clean, and the babies were well-fed and well-tended.
9. Horns are removed almost immediately. While many claim it is barbaric, it really is for the safety of the cows. If there is ever a "disagreement," these cows will fight to the death to settle it, so horn removal is necessary if the cows are kept communally in a pasture.
10. Cows are very smart and each has its own distinct personality. Some of them were timid, some of them were curious, some were very loving, and others were simply indifferent. (This one, whom we nicknamed Bucksnort, would snort and hop around if Hubby quit petting on her.) But all of them, Moore insists, are very, very smart. Do not be fooled by the somewhat vacant expressions (I personally consider it "serene," not "vacant"); it's all an act.
Very recently, during one of my regular trips to Whole Foods, Hubby and I noticed a display of drinkable yogurts, produced by Lucky Layla Farms, complete with a sign proclaiming them to be "Local!" Always happy to support Local! farmers, we picked up six yogurts in different flavors, even though the price was higher than your typical, more widely recognized (read: factory farm) labels. We figured that someone in the family would drink them, even if I wouldn't; I think yogurt tastes pretty gross (and the ickiness factor of the texture is off the charts). We didn't know how right we were.
Normally, when I buy yogurt (even those stupid "kid-flavored" devoid-of-anything-resembling-fruit Gogurt tubes), it languishes in the snack drawer of the fridge for two weeks before the last one is eaten. Our Lucky Layla yogurts were gone in 24 hours. That's one day, people! Even more impressive, I ate one of them... and I tasted everyone else's to test the different flavors... and I didn't barf or get goosebumps because it had a disgusting texture... in fact, I LOVED it!
We all fell in love with Layla that day, whoever she was (turns out she's a champion Guernsey). So much so, in fact, that during a subsequent trip to Whole Foods, we not only restocked on Local! drinkable yogurt, we also bought two types of Local! cheeses made by Lucky Layla Farms, neither of which we had any freaking idea how to use. We only knew that we loved Lucky Layla Farms, and they produced this cheese, and they were Local! so it was all good.
It was during one of these blissful yogurt drinking sessions that I started inspecting the labels of my Lucky Layla Local! yogurt. I couldn't find any indication about whether their cows were treated with Monsanto's (i.e. The Antichrist's) bovine growth hormone. I am disturbed by this additive, and I avoid drinking milk containing it; not enough data exists to fully know its long-term safety. Knowledge is power to me, and not knowing something means I feel quite panicky in certain situations. I need to know.
As such, I needed to know whether Lucky Layla was lucky enough to be rBGH-free. I emailed the two listed contacts on the website, to which I received a rather impressively prompt reply that, "YES!!!! Our cows are rGHB (BST) free. We are all natural from the calf to the cart. We graze our cows and do not use a confinement type operation." Joyous expressions on my part ensued. Then I read further in the email, from Todd Moore (who owns Lavon Farms, which produces the milk for Lucky Layla Farms, the actual creamery). It said, "Please feel free to stop by or e-mail with anymore questions." Oh, Todd, if you only knew; if you invite me, I will come to see a cow.
Through a series of emails with Mr. Moore, I asked if I could possibly, pretty-please come by the farm to take some photos and ask him a few questions. I would love to write about it on my small but clever blog. And so it happened that Hubby and I awoke at six freakin' thirty on a Saturday to make the trip to Lavon Farms.
I could barely contain myself driving up the driveway to the small store/office where I would meet Todd Moore, his wife Deeanna, and their boys. (I also met various parents, which is how a good farm should be. Everyone's a part of the good life.) Seeing cows grazing in a pasture, eating from troughs in a pasture, was heartening; this bucolic existence is too rare in the United States these days, and it is priceless.
During the next three hours, I learned a ton about cows and dairy production, including the politics and "greenwashing" practices of dairy production and the food supply in general. Moore was a great teacher, speaking frankly and patiently enduring all my questions. A lot of myths I, and probably half of America, had previously held were dispelled during that time. (In fact, those misconceptions will be the subject of tomorrow's Tuesday Ten list. It's about time for another one.) I had planned on our trip being something of an interview, which I would type up here, but the more we talked, the more it just became a conversation during which a lot of knowledge was passed (indeed, I grew very powerful). We very much enjoyed talking with Moore and his family. (Todd, don't be surprised if we show up again soon. You have a new fan club.) Hubby and I left feeling that this was the best use of a Saturday morning we'd had in a good while. I also left with a renewed confidence in my decision to consume dairy products from ethically treated cows; in fact, some of the more rabid PETA activists could stand to learn a thing or two about ethical practices from these folks.
Come back tomorrow to learn Ten Things I Learned About Dairy Production.
A lot is happening in our gardens this week. A baby cardinal hatched in our jasmine. The first two or three flowers on the jasmine have popped open.
The first elephant ear has poked its head tentatively out of the ground:
The landscapers finished my weeding for me, and I planted a bed of annuals (Gerberas, zinnias, vincas, creeping phlox (which I suspect is actually a perennial)), full of riotous color:
A couple of close-ups, taken in the morning dew:
No Photo Hunt for me today. I'm up at 6:30 a.m. on a Saturday to go on a very exciting and special field trip with Hubby. I will be writing a blog post about it on Monday. (Hints are in the Technorati Tags.) Tomorrow is Green Thumb Sunday, and I have something just for the occasion: new zinnias, Gerbera daisies, and phlox to plant today when we get home! Yippee!
Anyone who's spent a goodly amount of time around here knows that my politics lean pretty far to the left. I'm even pretty socially liberal. Or am I? My social liberalism has recently been tested by a situation in our neighborhood. I'm a fake. A sham. A freakin' NIMBY, for pity's sake!
We live in a nice, established neighborhood. The houses were all built 20 or more years ago; there are a few families with kids, but not a lot. Often, we leave our front door and our cars unlocked. It's usually pretty quiet, despite our across-the-street neighbor, who is a lawyer with an obnoxious, drunken twentysomething-year-old son.
Long story slightly shorter is this: We have relatively new neighbors with a young son (hereafter called "K.") who has begun taking liberties with other people's boundaries. In the span of a week, he's taken toys that don't belong to him; walked into our fenced-in backyard & jumped into our pool after being told he could not, as adults were not home; walked into our unlocked front door when no one answered the doorbell; walked into another neighbor's unlocked front door under the same circumstances; gotten into yet another neighbor's vehicle uninvited; and hauled out our garden hose to play with on several occasions. He does not leave when asked or directed, even by an adult.
Here's where my fake liberalism shows up. Through the grapevine, I've heard that a local church is buying and/or renting houses in town, then setting up underprivileged families in them, sometimes even putting a couple of families together in a larger house. This is how K. and his extended family (I've seen at least five different cars in the driveway) allegedly came to live in this house. A truly liberal person would think that this is a fine charitable thing that the church is doing to help the lower class families in town to get up on their feet to make a better life for themselves. Is that what I'm thinking? Well, yes. But, I'm also thinking that maybe it's not so wise to scoop someone up out of the 'hood and dump them, ever-so-benevolently, in a 4000-square-foot house in a quiet neighborhood with obviously very different expectations than the ones they seem to be accustomed.
I soothe my wounded progressive pride by telling myself it's a good thing we're not hard-core Second-Amendment-or-bust types, or K. might be pulling some buckshot out of his ass right about now.
I've had this week's photo picked out for a couple of months now, anxiously awaiting the time I could share it. This week's theme is: Funny Signs. We found this sign in downtown San Francisco. We thought it not simply funny, but quite hilarious. The accompanying, um, stains add to the effectiveness, no?
Busy, busy, busy as a bee. That's me.
A few things that I have had going on:
Those are the main things that have been occupying my time the last few days. What have you been up to, gardening or otherwise?
Edited to Add: The birdie who made this nest is a robin, and she has three eggs!
Some of my favorite personal images of Mother Nature:
Great Smoky Mountains, 2007
Texas Highway 289, 2006
Arches National Park, 2006
Do something kind for the Earth today. Even if we can't all agree on the causes of climate change, surely we can all agree that treading lightly on the Earth can only result in good: plant some flowers, pick up some trash, recycle some plastic bags, try some local and/or organic food from farmers near you, make some homemade jelly.
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