Public opinion of agriculture. I often wonder what the consumer thinks when they buy their food at the grocery store or wherever. When I buy food, I'm trying to think of what my thoughts are when I peruse through the aisles. I look to see the price of clementines, when they are in season, and then I check that they are from Manila because they are either seedless or have very few seeds. I look at the price of mangoes. I check the size of the green peppers because I'm going to buy it anyway, and the price of the red peppers. I just started buying out-of-our-season strawberries which I wouldn't do before because California was making money by sending big, white waterberries, not strawberries and until they found the link between heat stress and flavour, they were irrigating way too much. I buy Ontario peaches and cherries, only because I used to sell those fruit at the St. Lawrence market for Cherry Avenue Farms in the late 90s, early 2000s and he's still my friend. Every once in a while I find a Moyer's Farm caramel chocolate covered candy apple and buy it because I know the same Cherry Avenue Farms guy worked hard to make it. Sometimes, it's even outdated or looks horrible because the caramel has slid down the sides of the apple but I know it's the store's fault because they have placed the apples on top of the salad fridge, instead of inside the fridge. Then I text Paul and tell him how good it was but that he might want to have a discussion with his buyer because it's making his farm name and his awesome apples look bad.
When I lived in Quebec, I learned a lot about labels and it was really only because of what I didn't want to purchase. That being carrots that I knew were grown in black muck soils. I chose to find the Prince Edward Island carrots from Brookfield Gardens. Carrots in black muck have too much water and not enough flavour. I don't really consider myself a connoisseur of carrots but if you had the chance to taste the difference, you'd be a believer.
I tend not to buy Mexican foods, except bananas, just because I've been to Mexico and I'm not sure they are up to the food safety guidelines of the rest of the world.
When buying beef, I tend not to choose the marbled beef because I don't like gristle, but rather choose the biggest, reddest piece of meat I can find. Somedays I wish I knew more about cuts of beef that I might even do my own cuts, but that will have to be another lifetime when I become a butcher. Do other people think that way? Are other consumers maybe considering where the beef came from? Are they wondering if the beef is from Argentina, the US maybe, or is it an animal that was grown on this Island? Or is it even from Atlantic Canada? I don't consider the way it was grown because I know how animals are raised and I know that if I'm buying Atlantic beef, then it was raised with respect to the animal and to me, the consumer.
That brings to a point. Farmers are not trying to add chemicals and antibiotics to their produce because they are trying to swindle you out of a dollar. It's because they are trying to provide the consumer with a decent product that is not full of wormholes or gangrenous meat. I realize that is disgusting to say but the reality of it is, if an animal gets a cut from a fence and it is starting to look like an infection, then it needs to be treated for the benefit to the animal to be healthy, not as a way to poison you and fill your body with antibiotics. For many beef cattle in Canada, they have never had a dose of penicillin. Why would a beef farmer who is making only a dollar a pound for his or her work, add the extra cost of penicillin to the finished product if it's not necessary?
And then I go to the chips aisle and the ice cream freezers, debate the price of potatoes versus the cost per gram of chip being offered, check for the blue cow symbol on the label to make sure its made with real milk, head off to the check out counter and call it a day.
Sunday, June 1, 2014
adrenaline
I didn't realize just how much I relied on adrenaline to keep me going. I am far from a deadbeat, but I find that I am not as energetic as I once was. Call it age, blame it on Multiple Sclerosis, maybe it's a combination of the two, but I just can't seem to find my groove.
I have had a very stressful farm job over the past year in which this is not the farm life that I had envisioned that I would be a part of when I signed on. I do love farming but not the daily stress of just-get-the-job-done-asap type farming.
I wanted to be a part of the farm's growth but growth is slow to stagnant at the moment due to many factors, the main reason being their succession plan, or lack of participation by certain family members in a succession plan. I, as an employee, did not want to be a part of the daily "hatred" that exposed itself. I do not want to be a part of that type of family dynamic and I wish them all the best in their future endeavours without me.
Today, I am faced with ideas and opportunities that I look forward to but my body is not ready to face yet. I have a broken finger with a splint, a sore thumb that doesn't seem to be broken but also has a splint, a sprained ankle on one foot, a strained arch in the other foot, and general muscle aches that I wake up to every morning since I quit. I think it is just my body telling me to relax for a little bit. This aches and pains lifestyle is also giving my brain a rest and allowing me to move on to a healthy spirit. When I quit my job, I was so serene. I was almost proud that I had taken that leap and left the farm without spectacle but also that I had finally allowed myself to step away. To what, I had no idea but I was away from the negativity. That in itself was enough to lift my spirit.
Now, I just need to find a way to feed the adrenaline junkie....
I have had a very stressful farm job over the past year in which this is not the farm life that I had envisioned that I would be a part of when I signed on. I do love farming but not the daily stress of just-get-the-job-done-asap type farming.
I wanted to be a part of the farm's growth but growth is slow to stagnant at the moment due to many factors, the main reason being their succession plan, or lack of participation by certain family members in a succession plan. I, as an employee, did not want to be a part of the daily "hatred" that exposed itself. I do not want to be a part of that type of family dynamic and I wish them all the best in their future endeavours without me.
Today, I am faced with ideas and opportunities that I look forward to but my body is not ready to face yet. I have a broken finger with a splint, a sore thumb that doesn't seem to be broken but also has a splint, a sprained ankle on one foot, a strained arch in the other foot, and general muscle aches that I wake up to every morning since I quit. I think it is just my body telling me to relax for a little bit. This aches and pains lifestyle is also giving my brain a rest and allowing me to move on to a healthy spirit. When I quit my job, I was so serene. I was almost proud that I had taken that leap and left the farm without spectacle but also that I had finally allowed myself to step away. To what, I had no idea but I was away from the negativity. That in itself was enough to lift my spirit.
Now, I just need to find a way to feed the adrenaline junkie....
Bluenose weekend was a great success. A whole lotta fun with beautiful sunny and warm weather, a group of people that all have the same goal: enjoy a run and have a good time before and after the run.
The hotel issues were even minimal, just because we booked a room with 2 double beds and only got a double bed and a pull-out couch, we managed to overcome our discomfort and the cost of a less than ideal room and still enjoy the weekend.
So running as a family was the initial idea and we were going to run 3 minutes and walk 1 minute with Martha and Rachel, the oldest and youngest of our group. Well, that only lasted till the gun went off to start. There were so many people that were running and walking the 5km route that it was hard for seven people to stick together. We lost Martha in the first minute and shortly thereafter, Ronda was gone too. That left Debbie in the lead dodging the people and passing from behind, jumping up and onto the sidewalk and down on to the street, to the left of the street to the right of the street just to get ahead of the walkers and slow runners. Lindsey and Emma right on her heels, Rachel close behind and me keeping Rachel in my sights. Rachel had never run a race by herself so I kept my eye on her long blond ponytail, telling her pass left, follow closer behind Emma, dodge right.
There was absolutely no sign of Martha. Debbie wasn't concerned that my watch was beeping every 3 minutes to take a one minute walk break and Rachel seemed to be keeping up. I did know that she couldn't keep up this pace so after about 5 three minute beeps went by, I asked her if she wanted to take a walk break. Breathlessly, she shook her head, and we slowed our pace to a walk. I hollered ahead to Debbie that we were taking this break, giving her the option to slow down and run with her granddaughter in her inaugural 5k race, but Debbie glanced back with Lindsey and Emma hot on her heels and she gave me the nod and hollered back that I was ok to stay with Rachel? Yep.
Still no sign of Martha or Ronda. We came to a water stop and had a few sips and started again. I brought us down to a more manageable pace for Rachel and kept my eye out for Martha and Ronda. I gave Rachel a few pointers on her running posture and how to land on her feet which she quickly adapted her stride. A few seconds before we started to climb the hill to the Citadel, Ronda caught up to us, said hi, have we seen Martha, no, and was on her merry way.
As part of our route, we had to climb the hill to the top of Citadel Hill and follow around the historic route, passing soldiers in period dress, bagpipers in kilts, fans that were lining the route and down below in the street, the 10k and half marathoners were beginning to line up at their start line. It meant the world to me that the announcer made everyone in line turn and look uphill and cheer for the runners above. So cool. I had my iPhone in my hand and since we were at a more manageable pace and fewer people to maneuver past, I was taking pictures of Rachel and I running and Rachel passing the 3k mark and the people at the bottom of the hill. I was having a grand time as Rachel managed to run with somewhat ease. She'd have been happy to walk the rest of the way, I'm sure, but I wouldn't let her.
Down the hill we went and made a quick left and quick right and then another quick left. It was all downhill from here! Sort of. We did one more walk break and off we went again. I was telling Rachel that we just passed the 4 k mark, less than a kilometre to go. The watch beeped another three minutes that we had run and I asked if she wanted the one last one minute walk break. There was only 600 meters left, could she run it to the end? Sure she could. Onto the last street we went. The finish line was right there but it was a slight uphill. Keep up the good work, Rachel. Don't forget to breathe. Only 400 meters to go. Do you want to race to the finish? NO! Ok, keep your pace, almost there! Start smiling for the cameras! Are you smiling yet? Cameras are from here to the finish line! Look like you're having fun when you cross the line! Let's go!
I left her in my dust and when I crossed the finish line, I raised my arms and cheered in vistory like I had just won the race. Rachel was only 2 seconds behind me. When I turned to give her a two-handed high five, she clapped my hands and told me she was gonna be sick. I smiled again and tried to steer her to the garbage can along the sideline but she was going to be alright. We got water and tried to find the rest of the gang and wondered where Martha may have gotten to. We were pretty sure that she was probably sitting in the Metro Centre waiting for us to finish but just in case, we waited on the sidewalk. Shortly after, she came strolling up to us, arms swinging like dead weights, and cussed us for leaving her in the dust with no watch, no directions, nothing. I blamed Debbie but felt a little guilty because I had said that I would stay with her and Rachel the whole way. Too funny. Oh well, she'll get over it.
The hotel issues were even minimal, just because we booked a room with 2 double beds and only got a double bed and a pull-out couch, we managed to overcome our discomfort and the cost of a less than ideal room and still enjoy the weekend.
So running as a family was the initial idea and we were going to run 3 minutes and walk 1 minute with Martha and Rachel, the oldest and youngest of our group. Well, that only lasted till the gun went off to start. There were so many people that were running and walking the 5km route that it was hard for seven people to stick together. We lost Martha in the first minute and shortly thereafter, Ronda was gone too. That left Debbie in the lead dodging the people and passing from behind, jumping up and onto the sidewalk and down on to the street, to the left of the street to the right of the street just to get ahead of the walkers and slow runners. Lindsey and Emma right on her heels, Rachel close behind and me keeping Rachel in my sights. Rachel had never run a race by herself so I kept my eye on her long blond ponytail, telling her pass left, follow closer behind Emma, dodge right.
There was absolutely no sign of Martha. Debbie wasn't concerned that my watch was beeping every 3 minutes to take a one minute walk break and Rachel seemed to be keeping up. I did know that she couldn't keep up this pace so after about 5 three minute beeps went by, I asked her if she wanted to take a walk break. Breathlessly, she shook her head, and we slowed our pace to a walk. I hollered ahead to Debbie that we were taking this break, giving her the option to slow down and run with her granddaughter in her inaugural 5k race, but Debbie glanced back with Lindsey and Emma hot on her heels and she gave me the nod and hollered back that I was ok to stay with Rachel? Yep.
Still no sign of Martha or Ronda. We came to a water stop and had a few sips and started again. I brought us down to a more manageable pace for Rachel and kept my eye out for Martha and Ronda. I gave Rachel a few pointers on her running posture and how to land on her feet which she quickly adapted her stride. A few seconds before we started to climb the hill to the Citadel, Ronda caught up to us, said hi, have we seen Martha, no, and was on her merry way.
As part of our route, we had to climb the hill to the top of Citadel Hill and follow around the historic route, passing soldiers in period dress, bagpipers in kilts, fans that were lining the route and down below in the street, the 10k and half marathoners were beginning to line up at their start line. It meant the world to me that the announcer made everyone in line turn and look uphill and cheer for the runners above. So cool. I had my iPhone in my hand and since we were at a more manageable pace and fewer people to maneuver past, I was taking pictures of Rachel and I running and Rachel passing the 3k mark and the people at the bottom of the hill. I was having a grand time as Rachel managed to run with somewhat ease. She'd have been happy to walk the rest of the way, I'm sure, but I wouldn't let her.
Down the hill we went and made a quick left and quick right and then another quick left. It was all downhill from here! Sort of. We did one more walk break and off we went again. I was telling Rachel that we just passed the 4 k mark, less than a kilometre to go. The watch beeped another three minutes that we had run and I asked if she wanted the one last one minute walk break. There was only 600 meters left, could she run it to the end? Sure she could. Onto the last street we went. The finish line was right there but it was a slight uphill. Keep up the good work, Rachel. Don't forget to breathe. Only 400 meters to go. Do you want to race to the finish? NO! Ok, keep your pace, almost there! Start smiling for the cameras! Are you smiling yet? Cameras are from here to the finish line! Look like you're having fun when you cross the line! Let's go!
I left her in my dust and when I crossed the finish line, I raised my arms and cheered in vistory like I had just won the race. Rachel was only 2 seconds behind me. When I turned to give her a two-handed high five, she clapped my hands and told me she was gonna be sick. I smiled again and tried to steer her to the garbage can along the sideline but she was going to be alright. We got water and tried to find the rest of the gang and wondered where Martha may have gotten to. We were pretty sure that she was probably sitting in the Metro Centre waiting for us to finish but just in case, we waited on the sidewalk. Shortly after, she came strolling up to us, arms swinging like dead weights, and cussed us for leaving her in the dust with no watch, no directions, nothing. I blamed Debbie but felt a little guilty because I had said that I would stay with her and Rachel the whole way. Too funny. Oh well, she'll get over it.
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