Someone shared with me an article published by PETA, “Seven reasons kids should never hunt”. Last year, I wrote about my mixed emotions sending our oldest out hunting his first deer season.
 
Even while the number of hunters continues to decline, I was confident this year that the deer stand was exactly where he needed to be.  Here’s why:

1. Hunting requires no screens.   Granted, screen time is rather limited on our farm anyway given our lack of good internet and lack of devices, I still have no doubt that sending a child into the woods without any electronic devices is a good thing.  Statista did a survey in January of 2018 that showed 58% of parents report children having 2 or more hours of screen time per day.  Being outside is good alternative to that.
   
   
2. Hunting teaches patience. It’s challenging as parents in an era of Google and Amazon Prime to find good opportunities to teach our kids patience.  We built a pond this summer and after it was done our children were anxiously waiting for it to fill with water so that we could stock it with fish.   After a full day of seeing no progress, our oldest said, “Why can’t you just order water from Amazon to fill it up?”  While hunting, he has no choice but to learn patience.  Amazon, to my knowledge, does not deliver 16 point bucks. 
   
   
3. Hunting gave him time with Dad.  It’s not just the time in the stand.  It’s the time getting ready to go.  Target practice, getting guns ready, getting gear ready.  It’s the time spent afterwards.  And of course, the early mornings and late afternoons spent together in the woods.
   
   
4. Hunting teaches disappointment. Last year, he came away from the season empty handed.  I wanted to rip that disappointment right out of his little body.  I would have stomped out into the woods and grabbed a deer with my bare hands if I could have made his hurt go away.  But I couldn’t, and he had to deal with it.  There’s value in that.
   
   
5. Hunting teaches the power of a gun and the reality of a kill.  On his a second day out this year,  a cold, windy morning where he almost didn’t go because he had gotten so cold the day before, he killed his first deer.  A beautiful 16 point buck that will find a lovely spot on our wall after a taxidermy bill that would make your eyes pop out of your head. When he fired that shot, it was different than every time he had shot at a target.  It certainly wasn’t a video game.  He understood in that moment the power of that gun he was holding and he witnessed the reality of life and death.
   
   
6. Hunting teaches him to provide.  After he killed his deer, they loaded up and went to the shop where he helped his dad harvest the meat.  The next night he helped me cook the loin.  Before he cut into his deer, the one he had literally put on the table, he said his prayers, thanking God for the time with Dad in the woods, and thanking God for the sacrifice the deer had made to feed us all. 
    
   
   
7. Hunting teaches conservation.  He learns to love the outdoors and all the creatures God put there.  But more importantly, he learns how we have to be so careful in everything we do – as hunters and more importantly as farmers - because we are blessed to be on the front lines of protecting our environment. 
   

We are blessed to have the opportunity and resources to allow our sons to spend time hunting in a safe, responsible way.  To those who argue that children shouldn't hunt, I hear you, but you're wrong. 

Whoa, it’s cold! But don’t worry, our soils are covered.


Winter can be hard on soils and on the organisms that live in them. Our livelihood is dependent on healthy soils, and those soil bugs, so we take steps to keep them happy and comfortable all winter long.


🌱 We don’t till, or plow, our fields. No-till farming means less traffic across our field (less compaction) and less disturbance within the soil.


🌱 Because we are no-till, you see all of the “trash” from our cash crop on the field. That trash provides protection for the soil, and food for our soil bugs, all winter long. Every part of the plant has nutrients. When we leave the trash on the field it breaks down and returns those nutrients to our soils, where next year’s crop can use it.


🌱 We plant cover crops- crops planted in between cash crops and not for harvesting. This is triticale, one of our favorite covers. We could write a book on how cool cover crops are, but here’s the quick run down on what this guy will do: break up the soil, allow water and oxygen to better infiltrate, make nutrients more accessible, increase organic matter, provide food for the soil bugs and more.


🚜 Producer Note: This triticale was broadcast with fertilizer at a rate of 50 pounds/ acre.

(Recipe at the bottom)

​This is our beef.

Some of you are thinking, “No duh. You raise cattle. Of course it’s your beef.”

But it’s actually pretty rare that we eat our own beef. We normally buy our beef at the grocery store, just like most of you!

The only reason we have our beef in the freezer right now is a funny story actually- one that involved a wild calf, broken fences for 6 miles cross-country, airplane rides and such - but I’ll tell that story another day. 😆

Today, I want you to know that my beef-raising, farm family buys our beef at the grocery store just like millions of Americans.

We trust the quality, nutritional value and safety because our beef is what’s being sold in the grocery store, alongside beef that came from farms just like ours all over the country.

So why don’t we keep our own beef?

It’s not feasible for us.

We are a cow/ calf farm. That means we have the mamma cows and bulls. We raise the calves on pasture until they reach around 500-600 pounds. From there, they will go on to other farmers who will finish them until they are ready to butcher. Then, they end up in your grocery store.

This system actually allows cattle farmers of all sizes - from 5 head to 5,000 head- an opportunity to stay in business.

We would love to feed cattle. But there’s several reasons we don’t.

First, is our cash flow. When we sell our calves right at weaning time it gives us income that we need to keep operating. Like many young and smaller cattle farms, it would be financially challenging for us to keep our calves for longer periods because that’s longer time we do not have income flowing in, and longer time we have expenses.

Second is risk. The longer we keep our calves, the more cost we have in them and the longer we are exposed to market risk. Feeding cattle is expensive and when they are ready for market they are ready. You can’t simply hold on to them waiting for better prices, which means you’re at risk of losing money.

It takes a very established farm, typically with larger numbers of calves, to be able to withstand the cash flow ups and downs of feeding cattle. When those farmers buy our calves from us, they help us by taking on the risk until the calves are ready.

Finally, is our facilities. We are set up with great pastures for raising baby calves, but we are not set up with the areas and equipment we would need to feed all of our calves. It’s expensive to have good facilities to feed cattle and not feasible for us at this time.

So for us, at this point in our farming journey, selling our calves to farm families better equipped to feed cattle is our best option to stay in business. Plus, we have confidence that the families that finish our cattle are experts in what they are doing and provide the best care, feed and environment our calves need to thrive.

So next time you’re walking through the grocery store and grab a package of steaks or burgers, know that our farm family, and families just like ours appreciate you!

Mississippi Pot Roast


Chuck Roast
Oil
Salt and Pepper
1 stick of butter
1 package Ranch seasoning
1 package onion soup mix
8 peperoncinis


Dry roast and season with salt and pepper. Use oil in hot skillet to brown roast on all sides, 2 minutes per side.


Transfer the roast to a slow cooker. Place 1 stick of butter, ranch seasoning and onion soup mix over roast. Set peppers on top.


Cook on low for 8 hours. Shred, discard large fatty pieces and serve.

Dear Daddy,

I ran to the window this morning, just in time to see you leave. You didn’t see me, but I was watching you.

I watched you pull out before the sun was up. When I’m big, I’ll know it’s because you get more done if you start early, and work has to be done, even on days you’re tired.

A few weeks ago, I watched you fix the broken tractor. When I’m big, I’ll know it’s because it’s best to take care of what you already have, instead of always looking for something new.

Last week, I watched you pick wildflowers for Mom. She smiled when you gave them to her. When I’m big, I’ll know it’s because the best things in life, even gifts, are usually free to give.

One time, I watched you wipe your eyes when you buried the family dog. When I’m big, I’ll know it’s because even superheroes cry and that good dogs never live long enough.

Lately, I’ve watched you look at our dusty fields, look at the radar with no sign of rain, and look up to the skies. When I’m big, I’ll know it’s because at the end of the day the only thing we actually have is faith.

When it’s time, I watch you quietly load up lambs or calves, making sure they are calm and comfortable when they go down the road. When I’m big, I’ll know it’s because it’s our job to be stewards to the animals who sacrifice their lives for us.

At the end of each day, I watch you come home and go to Mommy. When I’m big, I’ll know it because even tough Daddies need to lean on tough Mommies.

I know, most of the time it looks like I’m not watching anything at all. You get frustrated with me, because you want to tell me about life.

I know I don’t listen when you tell me, but I do watch when you show me. And when I’m big, that’s what will count.

Happy Father’s Day weekend to all the Dads being watched by children - young and old!

What you see above is crazy exciting for our family!

These two pictures are from two fields, only separated by an old fence row. The photos were taken about 4 foot apart.

The farm in the bottom photo has been traditionally managed for north Missouri row crop farms. You see larger and more compacted soil clods, fairly typical of dirt in the area.

On the farm in the top photo we have been using no-till and cover crop practices for three growing seasons. What you see, and would feel if you were here, is a light and loose soil. It's full of organic matter without any compaction. (Think of potting soil compared to dirt from your backyard.)

We have actually added soil to this farm by allowing crop residue and cover crops to decompose and turn to dirt. In only three years, we have changed the soil makeup of our farm.

What cover crops and non-till translates into on our farm is...

🌱 Less soil loss from erosion

🌽 Higher nutrient content for our crops

🌱Increased ability of the soil to hold water

🌽Decreased runoff of water and chemicals we use for our crops
​
🌱Reduced need for added fertilizers

All of these things mean we are protecting our farms, protecting our environment, and creating better long-term profitability (which is important because even though it's our way of life, this is also his full time job.)

This past weekend I had the opportunity to volunteer at the first Farmer's Table Wine Trail in Hermann, MO. Hermann is a small town, rich in German heritage, that is known nation wide for its wine making. This was actually my first trip to the Missouri treasurer, but I'll definitely be back!

The event itself was a total blast! It was sponsored by Missouri CommonGround and partners. CommonGround is a volunteer group of farm women who work to have meaningful conversations with non-farm women about farming and food.

In Hermann we had over 750 people hit our Wine Trail that consisted of seven stops, each featuring a custom wine and food pairing. The foods highlighted Missouri agriculture.

I had the pleasure of working the "Corn" stop - Dierberg Star Winery with Meagan Kaiser, another Missouri farmer and CommonGround volunteer.

Everyone said the food was amazing at all stops, but the corn chowder served at ours was out of this world good! I had to make it for my family when I got home on Sunday and had to share the recipe here as well.

This is a light chowder, not a heavy base, making it ideal for anytime of year! It's ridiculously easy, and you'll never believe the flavor it packs with just a few simple ingredients.

As a corn farmer, I love that you'll be enjoying corn. But keep in mind only 1% of the corn grown in the US is sweet corn - the rest is field corn used for animal feed, ethanol, exports and over 5,000 products we all use daily!


​
Smokey Ham & Corn Chowder

Ingredients:
4 ears of corn (kernels cut off and cobs reserved)
*Or 2 cans corn
1 tbs vegetable oil
1 onion, diced
1/2 pound piece of ham
*Or 1 pound diced ham
2 cups heavy cream
1 pound baking potatoes, peeled and diced
3 cups water or chicken broth
Salt and pepper

Directions:

In a medium pot, heat oil. Add the onion and cook until tender, approximately 6 minutes.

Add 3 cups of water or chicken broth, or combination of both. Add ham rind and corn cobs, bring to a simmer. Cook for five minutes. Remove cobs and ham rind. (Note - I used can corn given its April and I don't have fresh sweet corn. I also used diced ham, without a bone. Because of that, I used 2 cups chicken broth plus 1 cup water drained from the canned corn for added flavor.)

Add cream and potatoes, bring to a simmer and cook 5 minutes. Add corn kernels and diced ham. Simmer until potatoes are tender, approximately 5-10 more minutes.

Season with salt salt and pepper to taste.

Suggested Wine Pairing - Dry White, Sauvignon Blanc

This morning was a good morning. To my knowledge during church, only one crayon went flying from one child to the other and I only raised my voice twice.
We haven't graduated to the point where someone might say, "You boys were so quiet I didn't even know you were there!" But we are making progress.

It hasn't been all that long ago that my husband and I had to pump each other up for Sunday morning church - like soldiers preparing for battle.

Week after week we would rush into church, always late, settling into our pew, hoping shirts were on right, we had remembered all of our shoes, and hair and faces were in order.

It would always start out OK. They usually made it through the children's sermon relatively unnoticed. The music over the next few minutes would usually drowned out all the ruckus coming from our offspring.

But then... the sermon would begin.

Our time had run out.

We braced. It was game time. Us versus them. Civility versus complete chaos.

We were up against twenty solid minutes of only one man's voice. It wasn't even close to enough to cover the screams, untimely laughs, occasional harsh words and tears that would be coming from our children.

On bad weeks we would drag them out of the sanctuary. On good weeks we might make it through the sermon but our neighbors probably wished we had drug them out.

For what seemed like ages this went on. Each week I left feeling defeated, often wondering if it was worth it. I wasn't hearing the message, they certainly weren't, and because of us half the church wasn't either.

At some point, it stated getting better. I've found more weeks than not that I am actually hearing the message. And recently, I noticed our oldest proudly and easily joining us all in the Lord's Prayer while he colored. He was actually taking something in.

With light at the end of this tunnel, I suddenly have time to be grateful. Not one time in the last years has any of our church family said anything hurtful about the boys' behavior.

No one told us to stop coming. No one told us we were bad parents.

One time, in response to the frustration showing through my face, my pastor told me that if he couldn't preach over the noise of the children than he shouldn't be preaching at all.

On one particularly bad day, I remember a man kindly winking at me while I marched an unruly child to the back of the church. He was reaching out, saying "It's OK. This too shall pass." That meant so much to me. I never told him that.

I am so grateful for that kindness shown. I am so thankful our church gave us time to get where we are, without judgement. Even if it took our boys longer than most.

"But Jesus said, "Let the children come to me. Don't stop them! For the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those who are like these children." Matthew 19:14

To any parent out there, dealing with those same Sunday struggles, I want you to know it is worth it. And remember, this too shall pass.

And to anyone else having their Sunday worship interrupted by a child behaving like a rabbid raccoon, know you're doing the right thing by biting your tongue. Or better yet, giving a kind smile or joyful wink.

That mother and father are working on it. But they need your kindness or they may lose the battle.

Even though we've gotten better, we still aren't perfect. I imagine for quite some time I'll continue praying with one eye opened and continue being grateful for the kindness and forgiveness of those around us.

Leg Marinade:

1/2 Cup of white wine
1/2 Cup of red wine vinegar
1 Tbs garlic salt
2 Tsp sugar
1 Tsp black pepper
1/2 Cup extra virgin olive oil

Stir together all ingredients except olive oil. Slowly add the olive oil, beating in with a whisk. Marinate for 4-6 hours, or overnight.

Leg Dry Rub:

1 tbs onion powder
2 teaspoons dried rosemary leaves, crushed
2 teaspoons marjoram
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
Dijon or yellow mustard

Mix all dry ingredients together. Put a light coating of mustard on leg, then sprinkle meat with dry rub.

Preheat your smoker to 275 degrees. Place lamb in smoker and maintain between 275-300 degrees. Cook lamb to 145 degrees for medium rare (lamb is best served medium rare).

We usually pull ours out at 140 degrees and it will raise to 145 by the time we serve.

Allow to rest 20 minutes prior to slicing.

This was our Easter Dinner this year, but this is also a favorite recipe for first time lamb trusts. We've convinced many people to try lamb with this smoked leg, almost all of whom have found they really love it!

And after Easter Dinner this year... we played in the snow. No joke. (I am so over this winter.)

I'm still pretty new in my journey with faith and Jesus. Too new to be giving any kind of sermon, or biblical commentary. This isn't either. This is just me. And my thoughts.

Today is Palm Sunday, the start of Holy Week, which culminates in Easter. Next Sunday, millions of people will attend church that don't normally go. People who go on Christmas and Easter. Or at least attempt to go, on one or the other, most years.

I'm not judging, the exact opposite actually. For most of my life, that was me. I went, first because I was made to, and later in life out of some sense of obligation. Because it's what "good people" do. At least on Easter and Christmas.

I'll never forget the stress I use to feel. To act the right way, say the right things, but mostly, to dress the right way.

Fashion has never been a strength for me. My entire life, it's been a source of great stress. And Easter Church services come with high expectations.

Especially after you have kids. The kids have to have new outfits. I think they are suppose to match and I think it's suppose to be something you have to iron.

I am suppose to have a new dress. It can't be white yet... or maybe it can be? I can't ever remember the rules of wearing white. Except the wedding thing. I always remember that.

It's suppose to be spring colors, definitely not my go to black. My work suits won't work either. It's suppose to coordinate with the kids outfits I am sure.

Church on Easter and Christmas never felt like it was for me. The expectations were high and I was always falling short and uncomfortable while I was at it.

I couldn't find my way to Jesus on those days because I was too busy readjusting a dress I hated and wondering if my shoes actually matched my outfit.

It wouldn't be until years later, when a way too casual preacher stopped us at the local Mexican restaurant and asked us to church.

He would ask a dozen more times before I actually showed up.

It wouldn't be until the first "regular" Sunday morning, that I walked into that church with half empty pews, and that same preacher stood in the aisle telling jokes wearing a weird tie.

It wouldn't be until that preacher turned and saw me, in my blue jeans and boots, and his face lit up as he said, "I'm so glad you're here!". And he meant it - jeans and all.

It wouldn't be until I sat among those people - some dressed up, but most like me, in jeans. There were some teachers, a truck driver, a few farmers, a butcher, local business people. Regular people.

It wouldn't be until I came to church in jeans, actually comfortable in my clothes and comfortable that those around me didn't mind, that I finally could hear about Jesus. That I could finally know and feel Jesus.

I know many of you will go to church next Sunday and many of you will feel like I still do on Easter Sunday - uncomfortable. I pray that you'll still be open to hearing the good news of Jesus.

But if you're like me, and you're distracted by your discomfort, I hope you'll come back. On a regular Sunday. In your blue jeans and boots. Because that church has got news worth sharing. A story worth knowing. A man worth following.

And it's worth coming back. I promise.

To read this and other thoughts, follow us on Facebook at Uptown Farms.