2012 Calves Sold To Polyface, Inc.

We are trying something new, again…

 

We have, for the most part, sold our calves at a local stockyard auction.  Sometimes the price is OK, sometimes it is poor.  We take our chances and hope for the best.

 

Now, that we have changed our management to the more desirable grass-fed approach, we also wanted to find a more appropriate marketing outlet for our livestock; and, I think we found that outlet with Polyface,Inc. farm.  Both our farm management goals are similar.

 

Polyface, located in the county just north of our farms, has gained international recognition for their farming methods and policies.  Joel Salatin and his family put environmentally sound practices to work, sell their products off the farm and in their on-farm store, and keep a somewhat hectic schedule as featured speakers at events sponsored worldwide.

 

We initiated the business venture by asking if Polyface would be interested in buying our grass-fed calves and lambs.   After two farm visits, they were interested in purchasing all our calves and indicated that they would try 20 or so lambs.

This week, son Daniel, loaded 20 of our grass-fed, yearling calves. These calves will spend the next 12 months or so on the Polyface pastures finishing.  In a few weeks, Daniel will return to pick-up the 20 or so lambs.  It is definitely an honor to have Mountain Glen Farm livestock incorporated into the Polyface regime.

13 on...7 to go

all loaded and ready to hit the road back to Polyface Farm

Providing an exceptional product to the consumer with minimal impact to the natural environment is a win-win situation.

a sampling of the calves we sold to Polyface - we retained these three heifers for future breeding stock

 

Only time will tell if the Polyface-Mountain Glen relationship will endure…I hope it does!

A Deer Incident

Even though several herds of white-tail deer feed and live on our pastures and surrounding woods, we rarely hunt them.

 

There are several reasons….1) butchering is time-consuming, 2) I do not like the taste of wild meat, and 3) they look majestic as they jump and run at will.

 

Albeit, the local populations of deer are on the increase; and, barring any disease or ailment, their numbers grow. Eventually, food sources will not keep in balance with the populations and disease will trigger a natural decline.

 

Last month, Glenn, Matt and Becky decided to hunt on the farm.  Matt shot a doe and Glenn a yearling.  We now have venison packed in the freezer along with our farm raised beef.  Variety is good.

 

What else is good?   I have learned to roast unsavory cuts of meat into tender and tasty meals.  This meat will not go to waste here.

see doe on right side of photo - its leg is hanging in the fence

 

This morning as Glenn and Becky started their chores, they discovered a deer in need just yards from the house. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This fairly large doe evidently miscalculated and failed an ordinarily easy leap over a pasture fence.  Her back leg was entangled; this doe was stuck.  If not for Glenn to help her out, she would have died; a perfect example of life’s ups and downs. 

Glenn gingerly clips the fence wire while trying to keep the deer as still as possible to prevent further injury.

 

Free...and, off!

And, gone!

 

 

Today, this deer had an ‘up’!

Early December - Evening Sky

I awoke to a gorgeous, blazing sunrise...I just continued to lay in bed and enjoyed the red of the sky.

The day ended, just as spectacular...

                                                                 again, the sun  displaying full glory and ever changing color!

 

Tomorrow will be different.

 

 

Jake's Ivy?

December 1st - how has the year passed so quickly?

 

 

The weather has been so mild and continues to be; so, I am taking advantage of the warm and comfortable days to get back in the garden to weed and clean-up before winter weather arrives.

 

I started to trim up the ivy patch in front of the house.  This ivy grows like the proverbial weed and I cut it back several times during the growing season.  I competed a major trimming in late August and thought I was set until next year…wrong, the ivy kept growing, kept covering my walkway.

 

Recently, Jake retuned to an old habit of sleeping in the ivy bed.  Soon, Buddy joined him; though reluctantly because Buddy knows that trampling the ivy is a definite no-no. But, our dear Jake is getting old and stiff.  I relented, and I allowed him to take his naps on my ivy. And, doing so results in dog-sized indentations in the foliage; eventually causing the foliage to die back.  Not a pretty sight, but Jake deserves a bit of comfort that the ivy vines provide.

 

Jake perked up when I began the trimming.  He gave me a look of disgust, ‘Getting rid of my comfy, cozy couch?’ 



And, what are you doing with my ivy???

 

I assured him that I left enough ivy for him; I did not even get close to his favorite spots. He has several.

That's more like it!

 

Jake was satisfied as he returned for another nap.

My Twinkie Memory

 

One of my favorite activities as a young child was to accompany my grandmother to the store; be it the butcher, the bakery, or the department store. 

 

One and one-half  blocks from our house is where Vydra’s, our butcher, was located.  Vydra’s was a small glass-fronted store flanked by family homes; a true neighborhood establishment.

 

The Vydra family butchered Angus cows they raised on their own country farm.  I learned this one day by asking about the meat and was told to look up at the huge black and white photo poster on the wall;  a picture of the Vydra cattle farm.  I was impressed.  A  cattle herd was uncommon and noteworthy to this little, city (today, considered the suburbs) girl; stray dogs walking along sidewalks was a much more common sight.

 

Vydra’s had one extremely worn, square butcher block table which formed the corner of an ell between two glass-fronted refrigerated cases.  At my earliest recollection, I was tall enough to where I could just peer over the wavy wooden surface while a requested cut of meat was cleaved or sawn off.  The saws and cleavers conveniently hung as needed, within easy reach of the butcher, from long ceiling hooks just above the thick butcher block.  Sometimes this meat went into a grinder for ground meat.  All meat was packaged in what we called ‘white butcher paper’.  The meat was fresh, bright red; never pre-packaged.  The process was fascinating to me.  I always watched intently from my vantage point; my eyes even with the undulating wood top, only a few inches from that sharp, decisive blade.

 

My Grandmother and I would go to the butcher shop at least once per week.  We walked.  My Grandmother usually pulled a wheeled cart to hold the purchases for the return trip home.  On light purchase days, she would just take a cloth shopping bag.  (Yes, the reusable shopping bag is not a new idea.)  My Grandmother’s bag was lightweight, fine mesh, olive in color that expanded slightly as it was filled.  It was conveniently tucked into her purse for every shopping trip. 

 

On a good day to Vydra’s, my Grandmother would treat me to a pack of Hostess Twinkies.  Actually, I had to take the package home and give the twin Twinkie to my brother.  Those Twinkies were a special treat.  First, I would gingerly open the crinkly cellophane wrapper and examine my Twinkie before eating it.  I always made sure the Twinkie had three small cream dimples visible on the bottom of the cake.  Then, I began with a small bite, purposely missing the cream.  My second bite into the soft, spongy yellow cake included the delicious white cream; the mix of cake and cream was delightful.  Sometimes I would scoop the cream out with my finger or tongue and savor the white fluff alone, no cake necessary.  I ate very slowly.  I relished every mouthful.  This treat had to last as long as I could make it last.  I did not know when I would get another as money was tight. I did not realize it at the time, but looking back, I do believe our family was ‘poor’.  And, that occasional Twinkie was an amazing indulgence for a little kid…me!

 

Note:  One of the stories my Grandmother use to tell me was that she always put a Twinkie in my Uncle Gerald’s lunchbox.  He was thin and my Grandmother always tried to fatten him up.  He enjoyed the Twinkies but never did gain any excess pounds.  My dear Uncle recently died at the age of 95 (2012), which means that he started eating Twinkies at age 13. Uncle Gerald, a very knowledgeable man by his own effort, did not finish high school as he had to go to work to make additional money for his family.  Those Twinkies were an absolute gift during those hard times.

 

There is definitely a lot more to a Twinkie than just golden sponge cake and white cream filling; a lot more!

beautiful November autumn day at Mountain Glen Farm

And Now the Work Begins...

Look what greeted us out our side window this morning …a six-point buck!  How did this buck know he was safe?  It is Sunday; and, no hunting is allowed on Sunday.  This is the guy Becky was after on Friday and Saturday.  She still has a chance; and, then again…there is always next year.

 

But, on Sunday, we can butcher the deer Glenn and Matt shot on Saturday.  When you kill deer for meat, then you must butcher the carcass for meat; let the work begin.

 

First, the deer must be skinned. Boy, do I wish I knew how to tan.  Deer hide tans into a soft, a more supple leather than cow hide.  Another item to add to my new to do ‘to do’ list…probably not.  Tanning is hard work.  I know; I tried it once and gave up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Next, each cut of meat is expertly sliced:  back strap, roasts, and steaks.  There is plenty of stew-type meat remaining on the bones to cut off as best as possible and still extra to save for the dogs for a few weeks’ worth of ‘specials’ with their regular dried food. Deer are small, but they provide ample useable meat.

 

The cut meat is wrapped, some in plastic freezer bags and some in old freezer paper that I had stored with my quilt supplies (freezer paper is used for making templates for applique - but I never seem to have time to quilt anymore...at least we know where to find freezer paper for our last minute needs); labeled; and placed into the freezer for future use. 

 

Becky plans to use some of the roasts to make venison jerky; which she has never tried, but it sounds like a delicious experiment.

 

And now for supper, a bit of fresh venison steak with grilled onions; and, none for the dogs tonight because they have been snacking on all the waste meat, fat, and bones all day long.

 

I expect to have two sick dogs later this evening.

Hunting Day

Yesterday, the weather was mild, warm and sunny.  I went out into the garden to plant a new batch of tulip and crocus bulbs.  After that chore, I decided to stay out to work on weeding other garden beds.  I just did not want to return inside; even after the sky started turning dark, the day was that nice.

 

Today is another story; cold and breezy.  Even with full sun, the air temperature did not warm much past freezing.  I was glad I got my bulbs in yesterday. Not a good gardening day, but good for hunting.

 

 

So, Glenn, Matt and Becky decided to go hunting.  I cannot remember the last time any of the family has hunted.  We have plenty of beef to keep us satisfied, but we also have plenty of wild deer roaming our pastures and woods.

 

Glenn likes to hunt from the front fence, just feet from the house.  As the norm, he returned several times to warm up his insulated cup of coffee.  If it aint easy, Glenn aint hunting.

 

Matt has never hunted.  He never had the inclination. But, he wanted to try this season…strange since he had been living in Alaska, the wild frontier, for the past four years with no hunting trips to his acclaim.

 

Becky was gung-ho on hunting.  She was the first out and about this morning, as well as solo the evening before.

 

 

Shortly after the sun broke, I heard a solitary shot.  I looked out over the farm and saw Glenn.  He seemed to be closing in on two deer, but had not taken a shot yet.  Within minutes, Matt walked into the house.  He killed his first deer with one, clean shot.  I guess the Army has taught him a skill or two.  Another hour passed before another shot rang out.  Glenn killed a yearling; small, but it will be tender eating.

 

I went out with camera in hand to get a few pictures of the next process;   cleaning out the guts. I discovered that Matt actually missed his calling.  He cut and wielded the knife with such finesse and precision…he should have been a surgeon - darn!

Don't forget the heart and liver...

 

Unfortunately, Becky was the empty-handed hunter today.  But, she says she will not give up.  Venison Jerky is on her mind.

 

And Jake…he may be old and stiff but he is not stupid; he knows when it is worth his effort to make the long trek from the house to the field where the deer was dressed.  I could see the smile on his face as he enjoyed the entrails.

 

 

See that smile....

 

 

And, despite the season and weather...there are still dandelions growing in my lawn!