Farm Poetry

Because I’m crunchy and I like to eat well, I try to buy local, 100% grassfed beef. Preferably organic and certified humane. I’d rather purchase from a Farmer’s Market than Whole Foods — but WFM is less than a mile from my house, so I justify it by focusing on how little energy and fuel it takes to get there, rather than, say, the Durham Farmers’ Market.

Trader Joe’s is two whole miles from my house. This is why we’re willing to pay a fortune in rent each month — location!

When I do get to Farmers’ markets, I usually sign up to be on the email list of whatever farm from which I buy meat. I get emails occasionally about processing and cow-pooling and reserving Thanksgiving turkeys. I usually delete them immediately since I don’t special order, and we don’t have enough money up front to get a cow.

Then there’s the emails I get from one particular farm. I just can’t delete them. Here’s why:

A recent sun rise at my place. These are some of the cows you will be eating this fall and next spring. I give them a fresh swath of grass every day and they are always out at daylight. These photos were taken shortly after 6:00 AM. Megan, the Magic Horse keeps me informed if anything is going on that she does not like. While I did step out to the pasture to get better pictures, this is pretty much the view from my dining room table.



It’s more than a farmer offering deals on his meat — it’s poetry. And it’s so sweet that a farmer writes so passionately about his, uh… cows… I just don’t have the heart to trash them.

Long live farm poetry!


One Response

  1. It’s okay to love your cows, but it’s not okay to LOVE your cows.

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