Living next to a river...

There's a USGS river gauge located about 200 yards from my property, and having it that close means that I can pretty much consider it to be my personal river level indicator -- pretty handy.  

I've been learning that the forecasts tend to be a little conservative - that is, even though the current forecast (the picture above) says that we'll have flooding, the actual river level isn't usually that high.  I can't blame the USGS for that - they'd get a lot of grief if it did flood when they didn't forecast it.  

But it's a reminder to make sure that all of the cows are in the barn tonight, that the equipment is parked on higher ground, and that the car is safely tucked into the carport, which is build above the flood level.  

the gauage level in this picture is the actual depth -- if it says it's 3' now, and 13' later, the river actually does go up the whole 10'; it's this regions version of a flash flood.  the water rises dramatically and then drops about as fast.  

Every year two or three fishermen or rafters drown on the river; when it gets above about 10' on the gauge, the speed increases dramatically, and there's usually a fair bit of debris -- mostly trees and stumps - that flow down the river.  

My old farm was completely in the flood plain, and I have to say that I'm liking this a lot better.  Just move stuff a few feet, and sit and watch nature rage.  

Farms depending on unpaid work: A canadian worker perspective

I've been very critical of farms who offer unpaid "internships" that appear to me to be mostly just low cost labor for the farm, and apparently farm workers in Canada are feeling the same sort of thing.  I recently ran across this article that talks about the situation related to organic farms in various provinces in Canada.

Don't get me wrong; I do train and teach the people who work for me -- but that's called training cost, and it's part of the responsibility of an employer, not some sort of special favor I do the employees.

What a lot of farms call "intern programs" I call the exploitation of the naive.   If you cannot pay your workers for the work, I'm going to say that you should sell your farm and let a more efficient, and fairer, operator take over.

That's the upside of a farm auction.  A less efficient operator goes, and a more efficient one comes in -- or they too, get auctioned.

When I talk about farms that have gone out of business, like Rebecca Thistlewaites TLC ranch, it's not obvious that the week that she moved off that land someone else moved onto it, and it's been farmed ever since.

The name on the gate might change, but the ground is going to be farmed if it's any good at all, and hopefully by someone who can figure out the profit puzzle.

Rebecca is available to teach you how to make a profitable farm, by the way.

Bob Comis, his pigs, and guilt

from the fundraising page for "thelastpig" documentary

I first ran across Bob Comis when I read an essay that he wrote about how local meat prices are too high,  in Aprile of 2009.  If you look in the comment section of that post, I argued that Bob's quoted cost of raising a pig was way too low, and backed that up with figures from my own operation.   Funny enough, 2 years later there was Bob with his prices right up there with everyone else; he even wrote an angst-laden blog entry about how high his prices were in 2011, and I had a private laugh about that.  

Over time I'd see Bob write about something farming related, and honestly, some of the stuff he wrote was really...  depressing.   And not because of the usual farming stuff, but more because of the constant personal angst that I kept seeing in his posts.  Guilt, rage, conflict.  Like in this post.

One thing that is interesting to watch is drama, and Bob Comis is big farming drama.   A documentary director has decided to dramatize "the last pig that Bob Comis delivers to the butcher", and there's a dramatic trailer with nice lingering visuals.  It's pigs, but the disney version.  It's Bambi vs a deer hunting video.  I'm struggling for how to articulate this - it's not farming.

Not farming as I experience it.   After reading and talking to and knowing about Bob for the past 6 years, I often wondered why on earth he continued to farm if it bothered him so much.  But it's not just that farming bothers him, in my opinion everything bothers Bob.  He hates cubicles.  He hates Tractors.   If I were to summarize the vast majority of his life it would be "darn, life is sure a bummer!!"  I can't recall ever reading a post from him that I found hopeful, or joyful, or even happy.

I've been full-time farming for a while now, and I've personally probably killed more than a thousand pigs.  Maybe a few thousand, and I too love the animal.  Pigs are my favorite livestock, and I care for them by hand and live with them and I too do my best to offer them the best life I can while they are here.

But even with all of that, there are parts of farming that draw me, that provide me joy and fufillment, and that let me sleep at night knowing that i've done good work.  Back to the documentary...

Here's what I wrote recently on a social site about killing - which is the focus of this documentary:

"I run a pig farm, and sell direct to people who eat the pigs; we sell some live, and some processed. Some of the processing we do here on the farm; for bbq pigs, for instance. So I've probably killed around a thousand pigs.

now I like pigs; I started pig farming because I like the animal, and I enjoy working with them; we are a farrow-to-finish operation for some of our production; we sell most of our pigs as weaners.

Even after doing the quantity of killing that i've done, I still have feelings of regret-relief-satisfaction-remorse, some days more than others, at the act of the kill. it's particularly hard to kill animals that you've bottle fed, or to have to put down pets, or to kill an animal that you really-really-really hope will recover, but you know that it won't, and a quick end is the humane and kind choice for the animal.

it's different, killing.  "

If you go long enough we will all die.  It's a universal rule that we all have to abide by, to face, to contemplate, and eventually obey.  

It's the way nature is; it's the way we are.  I am conflicted but content.