(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.

D ear Neighbor,

You pass by our local business daily, even though we don’t have a storefront on Main Street.  You drive by our production lines to and from work each day, although you probably just call them fields.  You probably don’t give much thought at all to the corn, cattle and soybeans we are raising.

It would probably surprise you to know, that right here in Linn County, MO, a recent economic impact study concluded that $126.6 million in sales is created each year by the local farm families and that 1,173 jobs are supported by those sales.   For a rural county, with total population just over 12,000, those numbers are rather significant. 

On a national level,  the US Grain Council highlights that agriculture accounts for 20% of the US economy and creates more manufacturing jobs than any other sector.  In total, more than 21 million jobs are supported by agriculture.   

Even with those numbers, we are often left out of the conversations around our economy and local growth and business.  That’s on us more than you – we don’t always make ourselves as available as we should.  We often struggle to get away from the farm to tell our own stories and sometimes we get aggravated with those who don’t understand our livelihood.

Right now though, we need you to know something.   We need you to know that we need NAFTA.

Last fall, I was at the high school football game, where a neighbor was complaining about “grocery store beef”.   Like so many others, he seemed surprised when I explained that our beef IS that grocery store beef.  Our family is dependent on a much larger market than our local market. 

Like most farming communities around the county, we raise more product than could ever be consumed locally, even with the trendiness of it all. Farms tend to be where people are not.      

As of 2012 census, we had over 46,000 head of cattle in our county.  That’s nearly 4 times our human population.  The local crew could never consume all that beef.  The same holds true for the corn and soybeans and other products we raise.

Your local farm families – your American farm families – happen to be extremely good at what they do.  The best in the world by most measures.  NAFTA - the North American Free Trade Agreement, makes trade with some of our largest partners - Canada and Mexico - more efficient.  And trade is vital to the success of American agriculture.

US Grains Council points out that the sale of corn to Mexico has went up 847% since the start of NAFTA.   Missouri is uniquely at risk.  In 2016 alone, 69% of our ag exports went to NAFTA trade partners which makes us the 5th highest state for percentage of exports effected by the agreement.    The US Chamber of Commerce estimates that 8.2% of Missouri job are connected to NAFTA trade.

Your local farm families are entering our fourth year of an agriculture downturn.   The USDA reports that farm income has decreased 42% over the last three years.  Many of your local farmers are not in a financial position to withstand the economic blow that would be delivered from a withdrawal.   Young farm families like my own would be hit the hardest. 

We love the communities we call home, and we are passionate about helping rural communities thrive.  In order for our local business to continue to have strong impact on our rural economies, we need you to know that #NAFTAworks.  And we need you to share your support with our elected officials. 

Love,
Your Local Farm Family

Yesterday, I took a short nap on a flight.

That may not sound like a post-worthy accomplishment, but for someone who, 24 months ago, couldn't even think about getting on a plane without breaking out in a cold sweat from anxiety - it's a big deal.

By no means have I eradicated my fear of flying, but I can say with confidence that I have stopped letting my fear of flying control me. In the process, I have gotten comfortable enough on planes that I have taken my last 14 flights without any anxiety medication!

I wasn't always afraid of flying. Growing up, I flew regularly enough, and never had any problem. It wasn't until the flight home from our honeymoon - a completely normal, uneventful flight- that I first started to have trouble.

Later on, when I learned more about fear of flying I found that it's very common for people to not suffer from a fear until they get older, often with marriage and children increasing the fear.

I landed from our honeymoon and had to get up the next morning and immediately fly to Denver for work. Each flight over the next year got progressively worse.

I would spend the entire flight gripping the armrests, sweating, constantly in a panicked state of mind. When I did arrive to my destination I would be completely exhausted.

Eventually, the anxiety got so severe that I started avoiding flying altogether. And I did successfully for several years.

Then, I had an opportunity. Several actually. Opportunities too good to pass up. But it meant I had to fly.

Here's what helped me start flying again, and continue flying today.

1. I talked to my doctor and got medication.

I know I titled the post "flying without Xanax". But in order to get comfortable flying, first, I had to ACTUALLY fly.

That meant I had to take a huge step. I had to admit I had a problem and ask my doctor for help.

She prescribed a classic anxiety medication and assured me it would help to take the edge off.

I was worried about using it. I needed to be able to fully function on the other end of my flights, but at the same time, I needed to be able to get to the meetings in the first place.

My first medicated flight was a significant improvement. I wasn't able to sleep, and was still uneasy, but I was able to relax - slightly.

I realized pretty quickly that I wasn't going to be able to just pop a pill and pass out - I was still going to have to come up with a strategy and I didn't want to be dependent on medicine to fly.

So...


2. I talked about my fear - a lot.

This is no surprise to anyone who has been around me. If you've met me, you probably know I'm afraid of flying. But I read somewhere that openly talking about your fears helps in dealing with them.

I started telling my co-workers before I left for a trip. I told the lady I bought coffee from at the airport. I sat down and told the people next to me, in front of me, behind me, "Hey. I'm Kate. And I'm terrified of flying. Can I have your window seat?" (That doesn't work by the way. People are very protective of the window seat.)

When I tell people, I don't feel so alone, and I don't feel like I have to hide my hear. I've also found that if things get bumpy in flight, people actually check on me!

On a flight to North Carolina, the Captain came on and instructed us all to tighten our seat belts and raise our tray tables because we were entering some serious turbulence. This was one of the first flights I hadn't taken my medicine and I must have started to look scared.

The gentleman next to me remembered I was afraid and asked if I was OK. I told him I was nervous and it would be really great if he could keep talking.

He took the cue and proceeded to tell me his life story - a fairly interesting one too including wives, girlfriends, neighbors - all the while keeping my mind off the storm we were descending through.

3. I learned about flying and planes.

Turns out, planes don't just fall out of the sky. And turbulence won't actually send a plane crashing to ground.

This sounds obvious to most everyone, and especially anyone who knows anything about planes. But it was one of my greatest fears.

I found a free course online, that takes about an hour, and learned about planes and flying. The instructor walks through the flight process from takeoff to landing. He covers everything from the noises you hear in a plane to the science of flying.

This course was a lifesaver for me. Once I learned the basics of planes and flying, I felt much more in control.

4. I learned what works for me.

I fly in the mornings when possible. I skip coffee when possible. I get a window seat. If I don't get a window seat I sit in the middle, and lean over enough that the person next to me might consider giving me the window seat. I always sit as close to the front as possible because it's less bumpy.

I fly Southwest. They are funny and the jokes help me relax. I listen to Dave Ramsey podcasts. Dave yells at people and it hides the noise of the plane. If I get nervous I watch the flight attendants - they are always calm.

All of these things help me relax, but are unique to me. Although, there is actually scientific evidence to support we are less likely to get anxious in the mornings and obviously limiting caffeine is good for staying calm.

5. I started traveling with Jesus.

Around the same time my fear of flying got severe, I felt myself being called back to God as well. Of course, looking back now it's clear that God was using my fear as a way to get me to understand a few things.

1. I am not in control.
2. I need him.
3. He's got this.

God was using multiple things in my life to pull me back, but my fear of flying - and the opportunities that were available should I overcome that fear - were definitely one of the more clear messages from him.

Prescription anxiety medication helped me get back in the saddle. But I knew if I was going to continue grabbing opportunities that took me half way around the county I would need to teach myself to fly without it.

And talking about my fear, learning about planes, figuring out what helps me relax and remembering that I am NOT in control and God is, helped me accomplish that.

As I finish writing this, I am boarding a plane headed home. My second flight for the day, fourth for the weekend - all without medication, and all without anxiety!

If you're struggling with your own fear of flying, remember it can get better!