The Hamburglar: A Quest for Ethically, Locally Sourced Beef

Hamburger comes from cows. You may say, “no duh Monk-Monk!,” but what I mean is…hamburger comes from dairy cows. You know, the cows that give birth, have their calves taken away and then are milked to death retirement. Instead of sending them to a pastured golf-course with a pension and a “hey thanks for contributing so much of your life to our great dairy industry,” they are slaughtered. Useless old hags that can’t put it out anymore and so they’re disposed of as garbage in the machine that they’ve lived their whole life in.

Um.

Ugh.

I have such a visceral reaction to this new news because hamburger is our go-to meat. While we occasionally indulge in a steak (Daniel’s Broiler anyone? YUM!), as far as red meat goes, hamburger tops the list. I grew up eating spaghetti for probably 7 meals a day, so it’s a hard habit to break. But now I’m in this ethically torn place of squickiness…If I’m going to give up dairy because of its separation of dam/calf, then how, at the end of that dam’s life, consume her? Won’t THAT be contributing to the dairy industry in a sad, roundabout way?

Only one thing to do: research. Can I find an alternative to this, so if I am still on a quest toward ethical omnivority (is that even a word?), then maybe I need some more information.

My frantic google searches have managed to find aproximately ONE GAZILLION family owned farms  in Washington State that sell full, 1/2 or 1/4 of grass raised, loved on beef that are slaughtered on-site in as humane of a fashion as possible. SUHWEET (except most places are in Eastern Washington or tiny little far-away-hick-towns like Duvall…or Enumclaw), but I was on a mission. I will do this by golly. I will buy a local cow and know that I am contributing to its life and death, but also knowing that it has had the most humane life and death possible.

But…

Well…

Conversations with Boof led me to realize that the investment of buying 1/2 (or even 1/4) a cow, right now (at 1600-3200$) is probably not the most financially stable thing…since he started his new (temporary) job aproximately 27 hours ago. And there needed to a deposit now, but slaughter doesn’t actually happen until October, so it’s like we’d still end up with 6 months of random eating until we got Bessie/Bob the cow from local-hick-town-farm.

The pressure to make this decision right-now-because-if-we-don’t-we-won’t-get-a-cow-until-2014-and-that’s-too-long-to-keep-hurting-the-environment panic of a slightly neurotic woman. But, after all of my ramblings around the interwebz, I realized that…we don’t actually eat all that much beef and if I were to buy a cow, right now, I would actually be eating MORE meat than before.

Whoa.

That was sort of a trippy thought, that in my effort to consume less factory farm meat, I would actually end up consuming more meat in the long-run (humane or not). Hmm. I had to think about that for a minute, which led me to the decision that we would not be buying a cow, 1/2 cow or 1/4 cow this year.

In my late-night trippings through google and eatwild.com and other various websites, I found this local(ish) place that sells hamburger, year round, from the SAME cows that are raised on their farm for 1/2 or 1/4 cow purchase. These cows are grass fed, slaughtered on-site and it’s a family owned farm that’s been hanging around the area for a good century.

Whoa.

So Potamus and I are taking a field-trip tomorrow to pick up some of this hamburger. In this way I can help a local farm, save a retired dairy cow, and still eat some spaghetti with meat. On my quest for ethical eating, this choice feels right, for now…

Animalistic vs. Humane vs. Machinistic: A Conversation with my husband about ethical eating

While conversing over dinner about ethical eating options and all of the  disgusting fascinating things that I am learning about the food system and my own eating habits, I used the word “humane,” in relation to what I am hoping for somehow in the new choices I’m making. And he looked at me and said,

“hmm, that’s an interesting word choice. Humane. We wouldn’t use that in relation to other people, just animals.”

Knowing him long enough now, I realized he wasn’t looking for a fight, just merely observing the word choice I had used. And so, rather than get defensive (like I would have done a few years ago), I went down his rabbit trail, replying:

“Well, in the animal kingdom they go for the jugular. They aim to kill, but don’t seem to create elaborate systems of destruction in order to get their dinner. Humane is like getting back to the compassionate, empathetic heart of who we are as people, with frontal lobes. It’s not just reactionary like animals, but it’s like being an animal with a heart.”

As I was talking it just started spilling out, and I kept talking it then he said:

“It’s interesting that the further away we get from being, oh, say, Neanderthals, the less humane we seem to get.”

And I replied,

“Well, I think that’s because we’re heading away from the animalistic-with-empathy and heading toward the machine. I mean, if you think about it, we’re machinistic now. They even say it’s a factory farm, and everything is mechanized and it is taking the soul away from it. It’s about conveyor belts and technology and more-more-more-more-MORE. We’re becoming machines.”

I hadn’t really thought of it like that before, at least not aloud, but it made a lot of sense to me. But I don’t want to be a machine. I want to be human, treat things humanely.

But I’m not giving up technology. I just don’t want to get eaten by it.

Thoughts?

Reflections on Transitisons: Stay-at-home daddio goes back to work

saying goodbye to the year of the stay-at-home dad

5:30 came early to our household. Potamus had been up aproximately 167 times in the night, and we alternated nursing and bouncing, like always. But something was different this time; Boof wouldn’t be able to sleep in once I got Potamus out the door for daycare. The transition from stay-at-home dad, for the past year, has come to a close, and we will all be up bright and early starting our day before the sun (which never shines here in Seattle).

I made sure to tell Boof I wanted a picture of the two of them before he left for the day. There’s something about a man in a suit and tie that brings back memories of my own childhood, and I wanted to document the end of a great era. While this job is temporary for tax season, we’re hoping it turns into a full-time gig later in the Spring. Boof’s worked so hard to overcome the shitty experience in his last job, go back to school, hold down a few part-time gigs and be the primary caregiver to our sweet Potamus. And while it’s been hard for all of us, I am so thankful that we got to experience it (I’m also thankful for in-laws who helped keep us afloat for the last few months).

I don’t know what Boof learned during the time as Daddio Numero Uno, but I have enjoyed seeing the bond that he and Potamus have. He was worried when Potamus was born that he wouldn’t feel like a dad until he was 8 and could throw a baseball, so it’s nice to see this relationship and ease in how they interact. There’s a rhythm and routine that our future children won’t get to have with their daddio, but it’s okay, it’ll be different then anyway. I’ve learned that our roles are fluid and that our kid handles transitions much better than either of us adults. It’s been sweet, even when it’s been hard.

I’m trying to remember that this transition will be like all the others, hard and then not-so-hard as we get in a new routine and rhythm. I worry that Potamus will miss Boof terribly, but then get excited thinking about how he’ll probably be all smiles when daddio comes home right before bedtime. I worry that I’ll have to pick up the cooking/cleaning slack and that will make me tired, but know I am also kinda excited and up for a challenge. I see that just in 1 month of daycare Potamus has gone from sad to happy(ish) when I leave him and happy(!) when I pick him up. We will all adapt.

So on his way out the door, to catch the light-rail into the city, I snapped that photo, on my cell-phone, in one try. No wriggling or reaching for the camera or funky red-eye. Just a beautiful smile and a snuggle up into his daddio. A picture to capture the 1,000 memories of the year of stay-at-home dadness. It’s beautiful, really.

Minimizing Suffering: A Mama begins Conscious Eating & Parenting Journey

“A lot of people think about veganism like a religion, which is totally wrong. It’s not that you have to live by certain rules, it’s about minimizing suffering. It’s not about being perfect.” -Vegucated Documentary

That quote from the movie, Vegucated, really stuck out to me, and has been settiling into my heart for that past few days. It came at a point in the film, where one of the participants was struggling to determine whether she could keep this lifestyle up in the family culture that she lives in. What struck me was about the goal of moving toward a place of minimizing suffering rather than being perfect.

As someone who tends to jump on social-experiment bandwagons and tries to figure out EVERYTHING about how to live a lifestyle perfectly, it was refreshing to have those words hit inside of me and come to rest. The last week has been filled with conversation after conversation with Boof about my choices, our choices, and how they will impact the planet, our marriage, Potamus, our finances, etc. The point I realized that I had begun going “too far” (for right now), was looking at ordering a 1/2 a cow sourced locally, raised humanely and butchered on the farm. While that may be a direction to go in an ethical omnivore way, I realized that by buying that cow I would actually be obligating myself to eat more meat than I currently do now. It was sort of shocking to my system. While I’m not going be really happy or excited about buying or eating a steak from the grocery store, for the suffering that it caused, I also know that just adding random meat to my diet simply to avoid the occassional (I’m talking, 1-2 times a year, maybe) steak. Does that make sense?

So while I am still dairy-free, and wrestling with all sorts of interesting detox symptoms (FYI pregnancy gas has NOTHING on dairy det0x gas), I am feeling like more of an internal heart-shift has happened. Like, the walls and screens I have built over the past few years (in thanks to the nature of crisis work) to avoid or block-out or not be numbed or overwhelmed by the sheer amount of suffering in the world. My heart has begun to feel softer, more empathetic, more like I am able to make steps forward, but also just SEE the suffering. Even today, as I read through an article about a woman fostering orphaned elephants, I had the initial ‘jump-on-the-bandwagon’ feeling of wanting to DO something, but realized that I am doing things, and seeing things for the pain and suffering that they are, can sometimes be enough.

But looking forward into the future is daunting. I have this little person in my life, and I want him to see the world through his eyes and his heart. I want him to be kind and gentle and loving, but fierce and determined and strong, too. I think forward too far and I get overwhelmed, like how can I raise a conscious kid if I’m screwing up so much? How can I have my child not contribute to factory farming dairy if all he will eat is yogurt? How can I help my child see that animals are valuable when I yell at my dog for being an a-hole and shitting on the floor again?

How?

Tips? Tricks? Advice? How have your personal philosophies shaped your child-rearing? Have you ever had a change of heart and changed things mid-stream? How has it affected your family?

Wrist Rolls

you’d never know this kiddo was having trouble sleeping last night!

I’m pretty sure Potamus is about to hit a growth spurt, since he’s eating aproximately every 1.4 seconds at night, and his wrists have begun filling out into little Pillsbury Doughboy puffs. He might be teething, though, too, since he chews on everything and is drooling and cranky…though 13 months strong without a single tooth, I’m beginning to believe that he’s going to be teased in junior-high for being the toothless wonder!

Thank God Boof hasn’t started work yet (that’s Wednesday) because last night was ROUGH on the sleep end. Potamus went down at his normal 7pm, but then was up at 9 something, then back asleep and up at 11, where he ate a full yogurt (after nursing) and was down for another hour. Then he wouldn’t sleep except for being held from 12-3, where Boof dosed with him on the couch. Then he slept with me for an hour, but needed to be nursed three times from 4-6 this morning. He was restless all night, constantly reaching out for me and tossing and turning in his sleep. I don’t mind the reaching for me, but his hands running all over my face for an hour is not conducive to sleep. And neither was the pinchy stomach pains from my new eating habits. I’m jealous that Boof got to go back to sleep after we left for work/daycare.

And then I drop Potamus off with the daycare and…NO TEARS. Holy Bejeesus, this kid has adjusted, at least for today, and despite the lack of sleep, it was worth it to see him go to his new teacher without any fuss. My baby is growing up so fast!

A season of new: photography skills & healthy eating

Yesterday I had the privilege of attending a photography workshop that Boof had purchased on Groupon for me for Christmas. While geared more toward those with fancy-pants DSLR or point & shoot with full manual functions, I still got a lot out of it. Since I love photography it got me inspired to play around with the settings that I DO have on my camera. One drawback was that most of the people in the class were parents and he didn’t talk much about shooting in low light (indoors) with moving subjects (kiddos), because all of his talk on low light was about using these cool reflector gadgets and extra light flashes, which is SO not practical for a mom of a 1 year old. I’m chasing him down, and have zero time to put a gadgety light box up. A class covering that would have been sweet!

In other news: I’m starving. Well, not like African children starving, but still, I feel like I am going to DIE. That feeling comes in waves, though, and apparently it’s pretty common during a dairy elimination diet. I guess dairy has some sort of naturally produced stuff that acts like morphine/opiods, which makes us happy and not like we want to cry/tear our hair out/hit people (which might be how I’ve been feeling the past 24 hours). I tried my couch-5k run today and only managed 1 mile (though physically I felt okay) and almost started sobbing, so I went back inside (because nobody wants to be sobbing, while running in their neighborhood).

I was pretty proud of myself for making an awesome breakfast this morning. I’ve realized I’m going to have to eat practically non-stop to curb the dairy-craving-demon, so I tanked up this morning with a certified humane egg omelette with kale and nasty vegan cheese. The smell of the “cheese” was terrible, but it tasted okay when it finally melted. And I drank a coconut milk/raspberry/kale smoothie that tasted like…dirt. Sigh. I’m going to have to get more tools in my toolbelt if I’m going to make this change sustainable!

But, the longer I go, the more resolve I have (even if I’m blubbering), because today I learned it takes 10lbs of milk to make 1lb of cheese. And, that cheese uses calf stomach (rennet) to make it all thick and coagulated. So they separate a cow from her calf, the calf is sent to slaughter (barely strong enough to walk) and they combine the milk from the cow with the dead calf’s stomach. While it may not go exactly like that, it’s the gist that counts, and I just can’t do it! Though I’m now saying that I am “limiting” dairy, instead of “dairy free” because I will set myself up for failure if I think that I will never, under any circumstances, eat dairy again. Ya know?

Talk to me! Anybody do an elimination diet of any type? What were your reasonings? How long did it take for you to feel…normal?

say CHEESE!

I love cheese.

Seriously.

I was that girl in a staff meeting in college eating a full loaf of french bread and a block of extra-sharp cheddar cheese from Tillamook. Oh, and a honeycrisp apple to round it out. And maybe coffee. I’m clearly part French, no?

At any rate, this whole cheese debacle has turned my world upside down in the span of 48 hours. I simply cannot let it go. I have been scouring the internet furiously trying to find a justification for WHY they separate mothers and calves at 1-2 hours old (or, maybe 24-48 if they’re lucky). I could find ZERO reason to benefit the animal (other than some clearly bollocks answer saying “oh, a calf drinking from the cow’s dirty teat can cause infections,”…and my question would be…um…why are you keeping the cow’s teat so dirty AND what about wild animals…they’re just fine nursing their young).

IF I could find a dairy that siphons off some of the milk, while still allowing the mother to nurse her calf during the day, much like what we imagine from the idyllic old days of family farming and using that milk to feed ONE family, I think I would be okay with that. But even the certified humane label that I’ve begun researching is somehow okay with mothers being separated from their young. I’m not okay with it. I am okay with death being a part of the natural life cycle, and if harvesting meat in the most humane way possible is our human way of doing what a lion or wolf would do, at this point I am okay with it. I’m leaving room for that to change, but I simply cannot let this go.

But, I love cheese.

And ice cream.

And yogurt.

But mostly cheese.

I’m starting with that, because it’s something I can see with my eyes. And when I see that slice of cheese and say no to it, I will be thinking of that baby cow…

So today I tried it out. I went to Panera and ordered my favorite tomato/mozzarella panini without the mozzarella. It was yummy and I didn’t miss the cheese. I stopped by Trader Joe’s and got some alternative dairy products.

I’m daunted by the whole topic. It feels like I’m face a vast ocean of sadness that I can’t make a dent in, but I hope to try.

Ethical Eating: Omnivore? Vegetarian? Vegan?

What do you eat? Do you think about where you food comes from? What goes into making it, and setting the price and it getting into your body? Do you stand in the grocery store and read labels or research food companies?

Well, I don’t.

At least, not until yesterday.

I think my class material is beginning to have an effect on me, which is good, but puts me in a conundrum, because…when faced with information (be it racism, sexism, privilege, systems) that rings true, I must make a choice. Inaction is a choice in itself, and I think that I’ve been doing that for awhile, burying my head in the sand, but now I need to figure out some steps, because something deep inside of me is stirring and I can’t quite get it to be quiet.

I’m talking about ethical eating. Which seems daunting. But, I’ve been watching these shows like Food Inc and Vegucated on Netflix, in an attempt to spark a conversation with my class about nutrition and racism and poverty and economics, and I’m being effected by it. I’ve mostly tried to avoid any sort of PETA video or information, and always try to change the chanel when Sara Maclaughlin’s song plays on the TV because I’m sure to see sad little puppies being abused. But it hasn’t been until last quarter, after watching Food Inc (which is tame in comparison to some video footage) where I realized that I might need to take a closer look at where my food comes from.

What I don’t like about some of these “radical” groups of animal lovers, is that it feels sensationalized. So watching a show that matter-o-factly shows a dairy cow giving birth and being separated from the calf so that the milk can be used for humans (and getting re-knocked up again ASAP via artificial insemination) it gave me pause to think…hmm….that might not be…right.

Maybe it’s because I am a mother, now, but the thought of that calf being raised without its mother and a mother giving birth and being separated from its calf, bothered me. And seeing baby male chicks simply thrown (alive) into the garbage because they won’t grow to something “useful” or piglets being torn from their mothers…I dunno, it put a whole new spin on this whole eating thing.

In the past I’ve justified my habits as, just that: habits. A whole “well, this is the way it’s done” mentality, paired with my childhood indoctrination that ‘God gave us dominion over the animals,” line that my fundamentalist father used to preach when we’d ever talk about saving whales. Though, I’m not sure God wants a pig to be mutilated and tortured just because of cost-saving techniques or laziness.

So, what do I do?

I’ve known people who learn this information and jump straight to veganism. They adopt the “radical” animal-free lifestyle and hope that it makes a dent in the overall consumption and destruction of animals. But, I’m not sure I’m ready to make that leap, yet. There are all sorts of practical and financial and habitual things I feel that I would have to change in order to go that route. Vegetarianism is something I am more familiar with, having been raised in a mostly vegetarian environment. I didn’t have my first steak until I was 14, and we indulged in mostly chicken/fish and very little hamburger in childhood meals. It wasn’t because my parents were animal-lovers, but because my dad had high cholesterol.

But, I keep going back to that dairy cow separated from her baby and think, well, if I go vegetarian, then what about all the dairy I consume (helloooooo cheese!) and also, what about those eggs and other animal by-products that are keeping animals in cruel environments?

Right about now is when I usually numb-out and try to forget I’ve ever seen an image of a dying chicken from too-big-of-breasts, but I can’t. The overwhelm of trying to change EVERYTHING is daunting. Not to mention….I have a child…and a husband…and my choices have an impact on them. Also, I’m not the world’s best cook, and I can’t just march home asking Boof to be vegan for my meals, he’s already doing a shit-ton to make my belly full every night.

So I feel the answer is somewhere in the middle…which might seem as a poor compromise on either side, but at least I’m moving in a direction. So here are some things I’m already doing, and some things I’m going to try to do:

Already doing:
Don’t drink milk
Don’t really eat eggs (maybe when I’m out to eat), and if I do use them I buy cage-free eggs
Morningstar sausage patties

Things I want to do/try:
Vegetarian substitutes when out to eat
Eat more veggies/fruits/nuts to feel full longer in an attempt to avoid fast food
Soy milk in lattes
Check into certified humane eggs/dairy/meat options from local places (Trader Joe’s) and farmer’s markets
Check into buying a 1/2 cow from a local certified humane butcher for beef needs
Buy Wilcox Farms eggs/dairy, they’re Certified Humane AND local from south of Seattle!
get more information about practical and small things I can be doing
try and talk to Boof and family members about making some small changes, too.

 

 

Craigslist Joe: A Movie Review

A student in class was referencing this documentary, in relation to one of our in-class discussions, and it made me think that I might want to check it out, perhaps as a documentary to show future classes. The premise, follow Joe, for 31 days, as he lives and travels off Craigslist. He sets out with no money, and bums around the country on the backs of kind strangers. It’s to take a critical look at the interesection of community and technology, and attempts to show how kind and generous the American people really are.

And, it sorta failed.

Okay, it maybe wasn’t a fail in the grand scheme, because he accomplished his goal, but I somehow left feeling more depressed and sad about the state of this country than before. What I think I experienced was a disconnect between what HE experienced (in his own words, ‘inspiring’) and what I experienced sitting here watching it, which was, less-than inspiring. I think that I’m bumping up against the way it was documented, the drabness of color and slow-paced nature of the filming. I found myself, about halfway through, thinking “dear God when will this be over,” and felt like the people who helped Joe out on his Craigslist journey were other ‘bums’ and hobos and traveling types. I didn’t see many rich people offering for him to stay in their houses or drive their Mercedes across country. It was college students and musicians and others, who probably would have and will continue to offer rides, regardless of whether someone is filming them for a documentary. And that doesn’t make it BAD, it just didn’t feel all that exciting. In fact, I feel like I saw a documentary or something awhile back that showed a similar experience of somone bumming around the country and it was much more exciting, though I can’t remember the title of it.

Though, it’s not that I wouldn’t recommend it, because it does show an interesting social experiment carried to fruition. And yet, I think I would rather have read it, on a blog, or in a memoir, because the rich description that could have happened would probably be more entertaining than drab photography. Which makes me wonder if I have an addiction to excitement in documentaries or if I’m addicted to my own imagination, rather than seeing the beauty of his experience.

 

Let’s Pretend This Never Happened: A Book Review

If you’re a fan of pee-your-pants-funny writing, lots of parentheses, post scripts crazy stories from childhood, AND snark, then you really need to buy this book. Like, now. I mean it. Hilarious. Also, if you’re not a big fan of those those things, well, I don’t really know what to tell you…except you might want to skip the rest of this review.

I mostly love this book because she’s nutty and her writing reminds me of the rambling in my head. And while I didn’t have nearly as exciting of a childhood, I can definitely think of a few random stories that might compare.

A taste of one of her stories, is about the raccoons her dad helped rescue:

His name was Rambo, and he’d learned how to turno nt he bathroom sink and would wash random things in it all the time, like it was his own private river. If I’d have beent hinking, I would have left some Woolaite and my delicates by the sink for him to rinse out, but you never think to turn your pet raccon into a tiny butler until it’s too late.

Hilarious, right? RIGHT?

She then regales us with the tale of her father’s jumbo quail (read turkeys) and how annoying they were, chasing her and her sister. Her sister “had heard that turkeys were so stupid that if it rained, theyw ould look up to see what was falling on them and drown from rain falling into their noses, so we began to pray for rain, which was promptly answered by a full-on drought.” But she goes on to say, “we often talked about spraying the hose on them in order to weed out the stupider ones, but we could never bring ourselves to do it (both because it seemed too cruel, even in self-defense) and also because our father would probably find it suspicious if all his turkeys died in a freak rainstorm that had apparently broken out only next to the garden hose.”

But in between the hilarity, there are these gems of wisdom, such as the question:

Have you ever been homesick for someplace that doesn’t actually exist anymore? Someplace that exists only in your mind?

But, if you’re maybe just a littel bit curious, and don’t want to BUY the book, then head on over to her blog The Blogess