trust the spirit
billy madison: hey carl, what’s up?
carl: nothing much billy. i see you got a little [mud] today
billy madison: you think so? i fell asleep by the [wallow] for a few hours.
carl: d’you fall asleep, or did you pass out?
billy madison: [aaaHARHARHAR] SHUT UP [<-press play]
read this post below before watching video. thanks, and enjoy.
I'm High On Cooking | in Farm, VIDEOS, livestock | tagged food inc., hog kill, naturally raised pigs, pasture raised pork, slaughter, sustainable agriculture, tommy over at the vegetable farm everything is still trying to adjust to the history making hot spell we are first breaking out of (praise jah). don’t get me wrong—we’re in georgia, it’s supposed to be hot—but, to use the parlance of our times, this shit is crazy. even the older folks can’t recall a summer that has been this hot for this many days without respite.
the unrelenting heat has caused many problems for many farmers around ga, and all things considered, we’ve made out well. the summer crops were a little lackluster, but based on my own energy levels and performance i can’t really blame them. the grubs, insects, worms, moths, caterpillars, ants, spiders etc. that normally peak near the end of summer, and disappear with the fall cool off, never really maxed out, or peaked. this lack of a final push has allowed them to semi-peak for a second round of attacks that is usually a complete non-issue come this time of year.
due to the summer crops dying a bit early, and the fall crops off to a slow start, there will be a larger than normal gap in food productivity in between seasons. also, the cost of the plant starts, as well as mine (and others) labor in tending to them, will be a bit fruitless as they will most likely be redone in the cooler weeks to come.
when i sought advice from my mentor farmer j, who is nearing the end of his family vacation, his advice on how to cope with my struggling crops was: “…and pray, always pray.”
so, there it is kind readers: start prayin’ for us.
i landed at laguardia and immediately doubled the hop in my step. new york. the concrete jungle. metal and glass shoot out of concrete to neck wrenching peaks. every skin color under the rainbow speed walking to and fro.
each night when i bring my kitchen scraps over to pork chop hill i’m torn on who to feed. the buckets we bring from the restaurant can always be spread around the herd, but our little kitchen produces a much more selective slop dispersal process.
usually it’s the piglets, but tonight pregnant miss berkeley takes home the prize: grassfed sirloin, fresh off the grill (four days ago).
