Feelin' Rich

See that stuff in the skillet? It's bacon.

But not just any bacon. It's bacon from MY hogs. I had a celebratory dinner tonight. :)

I had always heard that homegrown pork beats store bought pork hands down where taste is concerned, but I still wondered just how true that was... How different can pork taste? 

Gracious me, I have just seen the light. I had always loved bacon, but tonight was my first time to ever try homegrown bacon. My fondness for this meat cut has just skyrocketed. It. Was. Incredible. Don't ask how much I ended up eating. Hehe. One thing is for sure though: This farm girl will never not raise hogs. 

When my bacon was done cooking, I went and sat outside on the back deck; eating bacon from my own hogs, while my English Shepherd sat at my feet, and I watched my new milk cow silently meander through the pasture.

I'm feelin' rich tonight.

How Now Brown Cow?

She's here! After months of searching, I finally have another cow!!

And I think she will do quite well here. :) She is a total sweetheart, just like Mattie was...

She's about the same height as Mattie was, but much smaller in stature, so she looks like a tiny little girlie.

And yep, she's scruffy and in need of a few pounds. ;) Give me two weeks with all the kelp meal and alfalfa she wants and we'll have ourselves a slick, heavier lady before us.

I spent my morning cleaning out the milking stall from top to bottom (you should have seen me mopping the rubber floor with all that soap! I accidentally used too much!), and I am so excited for tonight's first milking. I'm not expecting anything perfect since this is her first day and she has no clue of routine, but I'm excited for all that milk again. And I've got a few plans up my sleeve to see if I can't start drinking that milk! (if you're new here, I seem to be lactose intolerant and have a hard time drinking anything other than goat milk; but I'm a determined soul who loves cow milk.)

She unloaded from the trailer like she's been doing it from day #1 and has since then been walking the perimeter of the pasture, mooing softly. And I have to say that I love her moo. It's quiet and pleasant to listen to, in comparison to Peaches' moo which sounded like a dinosaur from Jurassic Park. *shudder*

So yep, I got myself a cow again. :) And I couldn't be more pleased with her! 

The goats however, are not amused...

P.S.

Forgot to mention this earlier, but there is enough backfat from my hogs for me to make some homemade lardo!!! I'm ridiculously excited and my family is completely grossed out by the whole idea. *grin*

I think I'll start my batch sometime this week. :) It takes a month or two to cure, so I better get cracking!

The Battle Cry

Okay. I can do this.

Since writing that last post, I picked up the pork, got things figured out with customers who will be coming tomorrow for their halves, and I got a big misunderstanding figured out with the butcher. When the hogs were first butchered, I calculated that my cut/wrap/cure fees would total roughly $130, but I budgeted for $150, just in case there was some fee that I didn't know about. On Saturday night the butcher called to tell my end total for the cut/wrap/cure and his quote made me blanch. He said I owed him $276.20 for 200 lbs. of pork.

I panicked. I had budgeted for $150 maximum, not $276+!! And that's where the main bit of stress was coming in that had me working out like a maniac. Cash flow is always a bit tight at the end of each month, and this quoted amount was painful. I knew I could do it, it just wouldn't be fun.

When my dad and I got to the meeting place with the butcher (THAT was nice! He met us halfway and didn't charge a cent for his gas/time!), he immediately began apologizing; saying he had given me the wrong total amount over the phone! At those words, I felt a large piece of stress lifting off me like a fog rolls off the hills. Apparently the quote he had given me included the kill, slaughter, and rendering fees which I had already paid at the start.

So my end total for the cut/wrap/cure? $126. I was right after all, with four dollars to spare. ;) 

Just having that bit of unexpected good news has helped me kick this stress funk I've been feeling. My normal, stubborn self is creeping back, and I think once the cow lands tomorrow, I will be able to handle the rest of this week without the possibility of killing myself from too much running. Hehe.

Tomorrow I will patch the wheelbarrow wheel so that I can finish cleaning out the pig pen. I should have that done in a couple hours. After that I will ready the milking stall for tomorrow night's first milking. I can do this. I no longer say, "I think I can, I think I can." Now I say, "I know I will, I know I will."

And it's moments like this where I mentally shout my battle cry:

"CHAAAAAAARGE!!!!"

Ready or not World, here comes a stubborn farm girl who believes in defying the "impossible"!

Madness

Sheer madness. That's what life is right now. Stress is extremely high for me right now... I'm supposed to pick my pork up today but can't seem to get a hold of the butcher, I have people wanting to come this evening to pick their pork shares up but I don't know what time to tell them to come, the butcher fees were double what I was expecting and its rocked my budget tremendously. I have a cow coming tomorrow, I'm low on hay, my dog decimated my microgreens last night which was a loss of around $360, I need to order more seeds and some packaging for the micros and that's going to have to be via overnight shipping, I still need to get the milk stall cleaned up and ready for work, need to get milk customers situated on days to come, my wheelbarrow has a flat tire which means I can't finish cleaning the pig pen out, I need to get the sheep shorn ASAP, need to buy some more kelp meal since I'm out... The list goes on and on.

I am beyond stressed out right now, and the week hasn't even started yet. 

More than once I came close to crying yesterday; I was so overwhelmed that I couldn't handle the situation anymore. But instead of crying, I went and worked out. Every single time the stress has become too much to bear, I've put on my running shoes and either ran, or I did double-unders (a more intense twist to jumping rope), or I did an insane amount of box-jumps (those kill, let me tell you!). All total yesterday, I ran three miles, jump roped for 20 minutes, and box jumped for about 15 minutes. My goal was to be so exhausted that my mind would shut down and allow me some time where I was too tired to think. It worked temporarily. I did another mile this morning, and I'm itching to do some more double-unders and box jumps. It's becoming the only time that allows me to let go of the stress. I let my MP3 blare and simply focus on breathing; there is no space for any other thought besides counting breaths and focusing on inhaling from the bottom of my lungs and not the top. 

This week is going to be brutal. It already is, and its barely started...

So either I'm going to be extremely fit by the weekend, or I'm going to be crippled or dead.

Madness this all is... Sheer madness.

Lardo, Crossfit, and A Puppy

Yeah, it's a really strange title. But then, this is a really strange post, so hang tight folks; we're going to be covering a broad range of topics here!

First off, it's all Gyp's fault. That adorable, fluffy, Croc-eating barker. It's been a long time since I've had a puppy, and I had forgotten just how much energy these little things had! In an attempt to keep Gyp out of trouble (i.e. "too tired to do much else than sleep in his spare time"), I've started running with him. The first run is at 7:30am, and we usually go one mile. We're both famished by breakfast time. The second and third runs are in the afternoon and evening, and we do a 1/2 mile for those ones. When I first started running with Gyp, I thought I was going to die before I got back home. We're running in the 98 acres; all feral ground with winding paths, blackberries to jump, and a big hill to first go up, and then go down. It was brutal at first, and my legs and lungs did more than complain. But I did it every day for the sake of my rambunctious pup (or perhaps for the sake of the half eaten crocs that he somehow finds!?). I'm on day 11 now, and this morning I noticed that I was not only beating my pup back down to the house as we crashed through tall grasses and jumped bramble canes, but I was laughing out loud and enjoying myself. 

I'm slowly getting more physically fit, and I like it. It's taken some getting used to though. I've been quite content with my weight hovering at 120 lbs. and personally wouldn't have minded seeing those numbers drop a bit more to 115 lbs. Yeah, it's a girl thing; what can I say? ;) LOL. Over the last week I've had four different people randomly compliment me, saying I look like I've lost weight. I figured there had to be some truth in that, seeing I've had to fish out my belt for skirts/jeans that normally fit without it. I hopped onto the scale and was shocked to see that the exact opposite had happened: I've gained about 8 lbs.! Oy vey. Actually, this new weight is bang on the dot for someone my age and height, it's just -- taking some getting used to. Hehe. It really doesn't seem fair that muscle weighs more than fat. I haven't lost weight, I've lost fat; and instead gained some trim, new muscle. I guess cleaning out pig pens and running 2 miles a day will do that to a body... So I'm slowly learning to accept the fact that I'll probably never see the numbers 120 on the scale again, and meanwhile, I'm beginning to crave more physical exercise. 

Thus enters Crossfit. My big brother did this a year ago, and all I remember is him saying he thought he was going to keel over and die during the first few weeks. And he was already athletic and fit to begin with. So I mentally told myself to never consider doing such a thing, lest I die an early death from overexertion. (Me? Over-exaggerate? Where are you getting that?). But as it happens, I have two younger sisters who are fitness nuts and they both have their eye on starting Crossfit once one of us has out driver's license (and with all three of us behind the wheel these days, a license just might happen in the next few months), and they're determined to pull me into this crazy idea. I'm convinced that they're trying to kill me, but they're using the more subtle method of doing Crossfit to get the job done. 

After today's run though, I'm toying with the idea of at least trying this Crossfit thing. I have no desire to run a marathon, but I do know that fitness comes in handy when you're farming. Whether you're trying to catch an escaped animal, bucking hay, or spending half a day harvesting vegetables, it helps to be fit. I could even throw in the fact that it's handy for safety purposes; my sisters and I all know self-defense and enjoy it immensely, but if it came to needing to run from someone, I'd rather be the faster one who's not going to get winded after running two blocks. 

Handy thing about Crossfit, is that it also requires you to change your diet. I've been slowly working on this anyway, but I know I need to be better about it. Crossfit recommends a diet that is very, very similar to the Paleo diet, and I like that. It's taking food back to the beginning and you're eating lots of meat, fats/oils, fruits, vegetables, eggs, and *real* dairy (actually, true paleo diets don't allow dairy, but I don't like that. Anyway...). The main thing that is strictly monitored is grain. And of course all processed foods are entirely off limits. I know this diet isn't for everyone, but it's definitely my kind. I like to go heavy on meats and fats. One thing I've really noticed lately, since I started running, is that I'm beginning to seriously crave animal fats. Like, really crave it. And medium rare meat. That too. My guess is that these cravings are stemming from the fact that I'm using a lot of energy these days what with my usual barn/farm work and now I'm going crazy with new workout routines. My body is simply reacting by wanting to replace that burned energy with new energy found so generously in meat and fat. 

The biggest craving right now seems to be for lardo... Ever heard of that? Didn't think so. It's cured pork backfat. Yup, 100% pure fat that's been spiced, brined and then aged. No, don't wrinkle your nose up at it yet. I know this culture and era has been taught that anything with the word "fat" is horribly bad for you, but I believe the opposite. I think fats that come from grassfed, organically raised animals are amazingly good for you, and there's a lot of science to back that theory up. One favorite book of mine that explains and defends this seemingly "new" idea that fat is good for you would be Real Food (click the link to check it out!).

I know my explanation of lardo isn't very appetizing sounding, so allow me to quote a writer who does it better than I: 

"Of all the cured meats from Italy, for me, lardo is the most essential, primal, and pristine. It challenges our modern view of food down to one of its most fundamental and pervasive cores: fat is bad for you. But eaten as intended, sliced thin and consumed sparingly, this fat is good for you in every life-enhancing way imaginable."

Okay so maybe I'm just weird. But you know, it's not hugely different from bacon, which is very heavy on fat and only has a few slim streaks of meat in it. So there. LOL. ;) Having just had my two hogs butchered, it dawned on me a couple days ago (yes, I'm slow), that I could make my own lardo! Well now, hows about that!? Actually, I don't know if I can or not... When making lardo, you have to have pieces of backfat that are at least 1" thick, and my boys were incredibly lean. Phooey. At first I thought the leanness was a good thing, but now I'm realizing that it's not! I'm quickly falling in love with the old lard breeds of hogs like the Managlitsa, Large Black, Gloucestershire Old Spot, and American Guinea Hog. Lard is good. So if there's enough backfat from my boys, you can bet an acorn to an oak that this girl will be making herself some lardo. Period, exclamation point! My family and friends convinced me to give up the idea of blood sausage from my hogs for religious reasons (okay, some health reasons too; but the first reason is what I'm going by), and I have to admit that I'm still rather dissapointed that they managed to prick my conscience and convince me to give it up. But I ain't letting them take my lard away. Nope, not that. Or my medium rare meat; I'll keep that too. A girl can only go far where her protein and energy sources are concerned. 

 So if there is enough backfat, then I will make lardo, using THIS simple recipe, to snack on after my runs. 

And speaking of runs, the clock says it's getting close to 3:30pm; time for my afternoon run with Gyp! Whoohoo!

It really is all the dog's fault. I was doing just fine until he came along, and now look at me: running pell mell through woodlands, wanting to start Crossfit, and craving aged pork fat.

It's awesome. ;)

We're In

To say I was nervous as I approached the first restaurant would be an understatement. I felt like I was 13 years old all over again, taking personal invitations to business managers in the area, and asking them to come to the 4-H livestock auction at the county fair to bid on my pen of animals. But thinking back, taking part in the 4-H auction was probably one of the best things that could have happened to me since it forced me to come out of my shy, introverted shell and talk not only to a total stranger, but to a total stranger who was the manager of a large company. I learned to enjoy it though, had fun with it every year. 

I digress though... Walking up to the restaurant had me suddenly wondering if it wouldn't be easier/better to marry young and thus not have to go galavanting about, dealing with chefs and little tiny plants. In short, there was momentary courage failure. But I managed to suck up just enough gumption to walk in that door (after having to sheepishly call the chef and ask him to unlock it for me), and decided that I could do this. No husband hunting after all. Hehe. 

The chef took my basket and start pulling out the samples I had brought. The spicy mix, the mild mix, the peas, and the radishes... He looked at the second chef that was present and they smiled and nodded at each other. As they opened up each container and sampled the micros, their smiles and nods grew bigger. I think I only stood there for five minutes before the chef declared that he wanted weekly deliveries. That was an epic moment for me. Just a silent, "Holy kohlrabi, I'm in!" kind of feeling. We exchanged information, him with his weekly order, and I with my contact info. I almost floated back out the door, I was so excited.

The other two restaurants also went well. I accidentally caught one chef right in the middle of rush hour, so I had to leave my samples with him and now have to wait to hear his opinion. The 2nd chef was a cheery, upbeat fellow who took an instant liking to my greens, but he needed to get the 'okay' from his boss before putting down an order, so I'm also waiting to hear from him. 

So if nothing else, I at least have one steady customer. But something tells me that as time goes on, there will be more and more... 

This evening I mixed more soil and planted a few more trays of my spicy mix and some radishes. Tomorrow I plant peas. When I finished my work, I scooped Gyp up into a big, dirty, tired hug and softly said to him:

"Well Gyp, We're in..."

Nothing else needed to be said.