Pennsylvania Diary
How We Live in Pennsylvania...Selling Goat Meat to Ethnic Markets
You can read the first 21 days of the diary kept by Sandra Miller in the June/July issue of Farm & Ranch Living. Sandra and her partner, Ralph Jones, live on 20-acre Painted Hand Farm in Newburg, Pennsylvania. They have about 60 meat goats.
Ralph’s daughter Jessica also lives on the farm, which was a Civil War-era “fixer upper” when the family bought it about 7 years ago. They sell their goat meat to ethnic markets that include Moroccans, Tunisians, Italians, Bosnians, Hispanics and Indians.
• MAR. 22—Thursday. With the temperatures warming up, it's time to start thinking about getting a delivery of laying hens. My favorites are Black Jersey Giants—huge black birds with an iridescent green sheen to their plumage. I also like having several Araucana hens—they’re the ones that lay greenish-blue eggs.
We’ll order turkeys closer to May. We’ve tried a variety of breeds, but like Standard Bronze the best. Our poultry, like the rest of our livestock, are raised on pasture. The hens’ yolks are richer and brighter from all the beta-carotene in the green grass.
Pastured poultry also help improve soil quality and reduce parasites in the rest of the livestock by breaking up the manure piles, exposing larvae to sunlight and air. This means the use of chemical wormers is greatly reduced, which adds to the farm's bottom line.
• MAR. 23—Friday. Time magazine featured local foods on their cover earlier this month. Although I was disappointed with some of the things the author said, in this week's issue a farmer wrote in warning that if consumers don't become part of the local food market, farms in this country will suffer the same fate as manufacturing jobs.
Today, I drove by one of several American chestnut orchards in the area. My house and barn are built out of hand-hewn chestnut timbers, so I’m especially interested in seeing the once common tree make a comeback from the blight that nearly wiped it out a century ago. People take notice of endangered animals, but few realize this country has lost 4 billion of its fastest growing hardwood trees in the last century.
In light of concerns about global warming, that’s a huge loss of carbon sequestration. The American Chestnut Foundation has been working to develop a blight-resistant strain, and a few farmers in the area are cultivating these trees. I enjoy seeing them.
• MAR. 24—Saturday. This morning the people who recently purchased a small farm about a mile from here came by to talk about raising goats. They have a son who just turned 8, and we gave them information about 4-H clubs, organizations and resources to help them get started. It's fun to share our experiences with someone else just starting out.
Tonight we had quite a scare. We keep a baby monitor in the barn during kidding season, and early in the evening we heard the distinct bleeping of the smoke detector. Avoiding a fire in the 150-year-old chestnut timber structure is a priority. We grabbed fire extinguishers and sprinted for the barn. There was no fire, no smoke—only a dense, “pea soup” fog. Until today, we never knew that fog would trigger smoke alarms.
• MAR. 25—Sunday. I thought winter would never end and this day wouldn’t come. The ground is soft, but not muddy; the clouds are high; the sun is warm—time to get early spring vegetable seeds into the garden.
We actually have four gardens for growing food—three annual and one perennial with herbs, horseradish and sun chokes. Our compost piles are growing beyond what we can use, so we’ll either expand the existing gardens or start new ones.
The soil here is slate and shale, with only a thin layer of topsoil. Less than a mile away, on the other side of the ridge, there’s rich limestone soil. The manure from chickens, rabbits, turkeys, goats, sheep, horses, cows and our yak that we’ve been heaping on the soil is finally paying off. Now we have a rich soil base more than a foot thick in all the gardens. It turns easy with a pitchfork, and is teaming with earthworms.
• MAR. 26—Monday. This was soil testing day. I took samples with a soil probe—a stainless steel device I punch into the ground. The plunger pushes up the plug of soil in the hole of the probe. To get an accurate test, I took 10 to 12 samples and mixed them in a bucket. The local cooperative where we purchase our grain runs the soil tests and sells lime.
Building and maintaining fertile, productive pastures can take many years. Once good forage is established, it must be monitored and maintained. We're still in the building phase. Last year was the first since we moved here that the pH and mineral content were good enough in one of the pastures to warrant seeding.
Years of being planted in pine trees has left the soil acidic and nutrient-deficient, so every year it's been the same routine: test, lime, fertilize.
Ralph hooked up the harrow to the tractor and began readying one of the fields for planting. We use the 1949 Ford 8N that had weeds growing up through it when we bought this place. I planned on purchasing a tractor, but Ralph got the old iron running. It has served us well.
• MAR. 27—Tuesday. I woke up to the sound of rain—not something I wanted to hear. This was the day I had to take five generations of goats to Jessica's biology class where they were studying genetics. But last night I didn’t pull the stock trailer from down by the pasture where it was already muddy before the rain.
The thought of having to load three adult goats and five goat kids into the back of my truck by myself humbled me enough to call a neighbor with a four-wheel-drive truck to get me out of a jam.
Once at school, the human kids and their teachers, counselors, the sign language interpreter, learning support aides and even the vice principal came outside to see the goats. I talked for a few minutes about how goats were domesticated 10,000 years ago in the Fertile Crescent, and that man was able to create dairy, meat and fiber goats with selective breeding.
The group of does I chose to take along was perfect because the matriarch exhibits dominant traits, but has had offspring with recessive traits. It was perfect for explaining genetics.
• MAR. 28—Wednesday. Anytime someone has a problem with anything with an electric plug, I get called. I've had to fix computers, program televisions, VCRs, DVD/Rs and A/V equipment. So it came as no surprise when today I was asked to round up a projector for the Pennsylvania Meat Goat Producers Association 4-H and FFA Show Wether Seminar this weekend.
I couldn't borrow one from the county Extension office because this wasn't a sanctioned event, and it was being held in another county. I thought about just buying one until I saw the prices. Then I looked into renting one, but no place locally had such a rental. To do it through an on-line company that shipped the projector would have still been too expensive.
So I called the Computer Barn. It’s run by a guy who started recycling used computer equipment from schools and companies out of, yes, a barn, about 15 years ago. Now he's in a building with a barn facade, but still deals in plenty of used equipment.
Although he didn't have any to sell, he agreed to rent the one he used for classes at a reasonable price. Sure enough, it had a property sticker from the local school district where he’d gotten it.
• MAR. 29—Thursday. This evening, our good friends, the Kelchners, were over for dinner. Tom got a new job in Florida, so he and his wife, Lin, will be moving in a few weeks. They both love great food, so I always go all out when it comes to cooking for people who appreciate the effort that goes into a farm-fresh meal.
Tonight we had osso bucco (braised veal shanks) from calves raised here at the farm. Many people have turned their backs on eating veal because of the less-than-humane conditions in commercial confinement operations. Our animals are not confined, are fed milk and grass, and allowed to roam around in a quarter-acre paddock until they reach the desired weight.
The Pecarino-Romano on the pasta came from a local Amish farm where they milk sheep and make cellar-aged cheeses. There was a medley of baby greens—spinach, radicchio, red and green lettuces, mustards—that Jessica brought home from the farmers’ market on Sunday. But the best part, as always, was dessert—a berry pie!
• MAR. 30—Friday. About 3 a.m. I turned on the baby monitor and heard the familiar sound does make right after giving birth. A quick trip to the barn revealed another set of twins—two does—that where already dry and nursing.
Tomorrow is the opening day of trout fishing. Normally, I’d spend tonight at my parents’ house so Dad and I could go fishing in the morning. Even when I lived in California, I sometimes flew back here just so he and I could fish together on opening day. Our family often jokes that fishing is our religion.
This year, however, the state Fish Commission moved the opening day up 3 weeks from its traditional third Saturday in April to the last Saturday in March. I didn’t realize this until after the club goat and show wether seminar and sale for the Pennsylvania Meat Goat Producers Association had been planned.
I'm on the board of directors for the PMGPA—I’ll make sure that next year there isn’t a conflict between opening day and the seminar/sale!
• MAR. 31—Saturday. A long and action-filled day. Jessica and I hit the ground running this morning, helping the other volunteers register people attending the seminar or consigning goats to the PMGPA sale.
The seminar was given by a local gentleman whose family has raised and shown livestock, mostly sheep, for many years. He's now a certified judge for the American Meat Goat Association, and travels all over the country judging and showing meat goats. His presentation was excellent, appealing to both adults and children.
I sure wish there had been something like this when I was starting to raise goats and Jessica began showing. I remember helping her clip her first 4-H market goat a few days prior to the fair. Armed with only a pair of clippers I use on my horse, the poor little wether looked like he was wearing a corduroy jumpsuit by the time we’d finished.
The sale was very successful, with prices ranging from $75 for market goat prospects to $1,800 for a show-quality purebred Boer doe with phenomenal coloring. Some of the vendors graciously donated items to be auctioned off for the benefit of the organization, too.
Just as we were in the home stretch of cleaning up, I got a call from Ralph—one of the does in the pasture who hadn't shown any signs of being bred had dropped a tiny doe kid. He put them into the barn in a warmed stall, but the doe wanted nothing to do with her kid. By the time Jessica and I got home, it was evident we had another bottle baby on our hands.
• APR. 1—Sunday. This was the first year that no one played any sort of April Fools’ pranks. Last year I set every alarm clock I could find to go off at the same time early in the morning then hid them in Jessica's bedroom. But this year, April Fools’ fell on a Sunday when Jessica had to get up early to go to work at the farmers' market in Washington, D.C.
We put the last two does left to kid into the maternity stall, then opened the gate between both nursery areas. One area had access to the large indoor stall in the barn, the other to a large shed and a small three-sided shelter. The shed was once used as a chicken house and has a small door at one end. The door is big enough for kids to fit through, but not for the adult does.
We closed the large doors to the shed and turned it into a creep feeder for all the kids. The creep feeder gives kids constant access to food. If the does could reach the feeder, they’d eat all the food. Now all the kids have access to the barn for shelter, and to the creep feeder. Between nursing and creep feeding, the kids have a better growth rate.
• APRIL 2—Monday. One of our Muslim customers, Omar, and his family came out to the farm tonight to pick out a goat to celebrate the recent birth of their son. As in many cultures, the naming or baptism of a baby is cause for a family celebration.
Also with them was Fatima's mother, who was visiting from Morocco. She wore an elegant full-length turquoise tunic embellished with ornate beading and tassels along with brightly patterned hijab, the head scarf emblematic of Islamic modesty. Although she only spoke Arabic, she was full of questions about the farm as we took Omar's young daughter, Sarah, around to pet all the animals.
With authority and precision, the Moroccan matriarch inspected every available goat, handling them just as professionally as a certified judge would in the show ring. Although I don't speak Arabic, it was evident that she was pleased with the quality of all the livestock. She chose three—two that would be harvested this week, and one to be saved for when Omar's father would be visiting from Morocco in a few weeks.
I felt honored that someone who had traveled from such a great distance for the joyous event of the birth of a new grandchild was pleased with our livestock.
• APRIL 3—Tuesday. Ralph was gone most of the day, volunteering at the local food bank. On Tuesdays, he and a few other guys help with the “trading” among local food banks. If one bank receives a large donation of perishable goods that’s more than they need, it will be distributed to other food banks in the area.
Our closest neighbors don't farm, and are not home during the day. Knowing I won’t disturb them, I sometimes blast my stereo while working outside. However, today I chose to enjoy the cacophony of spring. There was the familiar staccato of woodpeckers, Canada geese continuing their migration north, mourning doves, starlings, and young kids barking as they challenged each other while playing in the barnyard.
• APRIL 4—Wednesday. Got a call today from a djembe repairman looking for unprocessed goat hides. A djembe is a West African hand drum. Played with bare hands, it dates back 3,000 years. After being carved from a hollowed-out hardwood tree, it’s covered with animal skin. The drum repairman has had problems importing skins from Africa due to the threat of anthrax in animal skins. He needs the skins raw and not tanned.
Many goat farmers have turned to the popular practice of selling tanned hides as a value-added product, similar to sheep producers who tan the fleeces from their market lambs. We've thought about it, but there is a lot of time involved preparing the skin prior to tanning. While the raw skin may not bring as much as a nicely tanned hide, the time saved compensates for the added value.
We use a USDA-certified butcher shop that is owned and operated by a Mennonite family just over the Maryland state line. This is the first time I'm having goat meat packaged into individual cuts. Until now, I've sold whole animals. But I've begun getting a lot of calls from older immigrants who only want a few choice cuts.
• APRIL 5—Thursday. Mother Nature can be so unfair—for the next 5 days, the forecast calls for bitter cold arctic air. There were actually snow squalls today! The greens I planted 2 weeks ago were just starting to emerge, and the buds on all the fruit trees are bursting enough to see the delicate petals' colors.
I can't believe only 2 days ago I was wearing shorts, and now I'm back to long-johns, wool sweaters, gloves, hat and scarf.
• APRIL 6—Friday. This afternoon, our Muslim friend, Omar, and his friend, Mostofa, came by to pick up two of the three goats that were picked out on Monday. With Mostofa was his wife's uncle from Morocco. The older gentleman walked around with his video camera recording his experience in America. It's really special when our customers bring their family along to visit the farm.
• APRIL 7—Saturday. Social events got Ralph and me off the farm for most of the day. I went to my cousin's baby shower, and he went to the wedding of a friend’s daughter. Between the wedding and reception, Ralph stopped at the farm to do the afternoon feeding bottle of the baby.
This freed me to go to a new restaurant with my friend, Lin.
• APRIL 8—Sunday. The last of our does gave us a strapping set of twins—a buck and a doe—during the night. They were both cleaned off, dry and nestled into a nest of straw together when I checked in on the them first thing this morning.
In a few more weeks, the whole cycle will begin again when the buck goes in with all the does that did not have babies this season. The gestation is 150 days, so the kids will arrive in late fall.
• APRIL 9—Monday. Because the lactating does require so much energy, I was hoping to have more forage at this time. But with spring's slow start, I'm stuck feeding hay. The last load has dwindled, and I put in a call to our hay man this morning for the last load left of the hay I purchased from him late last year.
I'm going to miss this hay—it’s a failed soybean crop that he baled with both leaves and pods. It's high in protein, perfect for the goats in their latter stage of pregnancy and during nursing.
This coming Saturday we’re hosting a fencing workshop for the Pennsylvania Women's Agricultural Network, supported through Penn State University. In the morning, we'll talk about planning fencing projects, and different types of fencing systems. After lunch, there’ll be hands-on learning where participants help build a section of fence.
When I first purchased the farm, I attended a meeting of local farmwomen. They talked about quilting and exchanged jelly recipes. The Women's Agricultural Network holds field days focused on such things as farmstead cheese making, and tractor operation, maintenance and repair.
Today, I started getting ready for the event.
• APRIL 10—Tuesday. While helping a neighbor, Ralph saw a hay bale elevator that had been run over by a tractor. He bought the old, broken-down contraption for $75, then got to work fixing it up. The elevator was way too long for what we needed, so hacking off the broken end worked to our advantage.
The real challenge was shortening the track that transports the bales up the frame. I told you this was a “fixer upper” farm, and it truly is. We've seen people pour everything from diesel fuel to used motor oil on elevator chains, but we figure such things can’t be good for the animals that eat the hay. So we always lubricate our elevator with corn oil.
This is my last day to keep this diary. We love the rhythms of daily farm life and take pride in the things we’ve accomplished here at Painted Hand Farm. We not only strive to build a better farm, but a better community and a better world.
Life can be physically exhausting during kidding season or when we’re putting up hay—and it’s emotionally draining when you have to make hard decisions that require weighing the bottom line against livestock that are close to your heart. But it’s extremely satisfying to eat your own food or receive thanks from a customer pleased with our products.
Neither Ralph nor I grew up on or inherited a farm. Painted Hand Farm has sprung from our hard work and dedication, and it’s become a great place to raise our daughter. If we can do it, anyone can—if they are willing to put their blood, sweat and soul into it.
Editor’s Note: For more about Sandra, her goats and Painted Hand Farm , return to our Home page and click on “Links.”
Home County Close-Up
Painted Hand Farm is in Cumberland County, Pennsylvania. Here are a few interesting agricultural facts about the county, and some useful Web sites.
Cumberland County Agri-business at a Glance: http://www.visitcumberlandvalley.com/about/default.asp
http://cumberland.extension.psu.edu/Community/CumbCo%20Agri-BusSlidesshow1_files/v3_document.htm
• Cumberland County has some of the most fertile soils in Pennsylvania. According to the USDA, 351,000 acres have been defined as “prime farmland.”
• Total number of farms: 1120
• Average farm size: 122 acres
• Total number of poultry, hog & sheep farms: 182
• Total number of orchards: 31 (413 acres)
• Acres in farmland: 142,500 (41% of total county)
• Harvested cropland: 98,907 acres
• Total cash receipts for crop and livestock sales: $88,156,000 (2002-2003 PA Ag Statistics)
• Leading agri-business: dairy
• Dairy farms: 235
• Milking cows: 17,800
• Milk production: 327 million lbs./year (which equals 38 million gallons)
• Value of milk produced: $46 million
• Average dairy herd size: 76 milking cows
