One of my favorite types of books to read is a mystery.  I am always trying to test my IQ against the author’s in figuring out “who done it” without waiting for all the clues to unfold.  I just finished a book that was a “mystery” after the book was written, printed, and read by a  Berks County 4-H leader who taught my daughter, Emilie, all about sheep.  Roger Bowman, who shared his knowledge on raising the wooly additions to our farm, became an owner of one of our Border Collie puppies after we convinced him that he wouldn’t know how he worked sheep before owning a herding dog.  Mac has become Roger’s partner for the past six years, moving sheep up and down hills on his Berks county farm.

Since the book was about Border Collies, Roger dropped  it off at my office with a note saying he was returning it to me, and thanks for letting him read it.  And while I had always wanted to read this book, it was never mine to lend out.  I called Roger and said he would have to keep looking for the true owner, but I would love to borrow it until he solved the question of who Eminent Dogs, Dangerous Men by Donald McCaig belonged to.

A few years back, I had read McCaig’s Nop’s Trials about a Border Collie and his challenging life.  It was a wonderful book, written from the canine protagonist’s perspective.  It was a believable and memorable story.  And now I had the unexpected treat of reading another of McCaig’s books.  I had intended to buy it or borrow it from the library numerous times, but just never acted on my intentions.  Now, all I had to do was find some time during the busy summer to pour through the pages of this inviting book.

It took me a few weeks to finish the book, stealing some spare time away from the daily farm chores and work-related reading to travel across the Atlantic Ocean to Scotland where McCaig’s book was inspired.  His 212 pages of recollections about his experiences “searching through Scotland for a Border Collie” introduced me to some of the famous breeders and handlers whose names I had read on pedigrees in the past.  And while the focus of McCaig’s search was through traveling to sheep dog trials, his words found their way into my mind as I recalled all of the trials and errors I had made in simply training our Border Collies to herd beef cattle on our farm.
 
In talking about his original Border Collie, Pip, McCaig said: “At eight years old, Pip was getting past it.  The dog who’d once been too quick needed cunning to catch young ewes.  The dog who’d jumped every fence on the farm now waited patiently for me to open gates for him.  Me, I’d got older and just wiser enough so it hurt.  I’d made stupid, willful mistakes training Pip and my blunders showed ever time Pip ran out on the trial field.  Because I’d urgently wanted control of a keen young dog, I’d downed him each time I was unsure and destroyed his natural rhythm, created that clappiness that upset the sheep.  I’d trained his flanks (“Go right, go left”) in a big field without sheep.   Consequently, now, when I asked him to make a “blind” outrun --- no sheep in sight --- he wouldn’t:  He circles my legs, anger and confusion warring in his brown eyes.”

I look at my own eight year old Border Collie, Tri Boy (named for his marking where tan highlights his traditional black and white coat) and wonder if he might have been an “eminent dog” as described in McCaig’s book under someone else’s handling.  An atypical Border Collie, Tri weighs in at more than 80 pounds, and easily controls our Hereford cows by his sheer size.  He grew into his desire to herd at age four, and has simply become my right-hand dog when it comes to moving cows over the past four years.  He is steady, balances the cows well, and moves up slowly to keep calves from crashing through fences.  He gets the job done for us here at Deitschland Farm.  I suppose that qualifies for eminent in my book even though he isn’t perfect.

After finishing Eminent Dogs, Dangerous Men, I understand that even the best dogs and most dangerously skillful handlers have bad days.  Despite their mistakes, these dogs and men understand this special partnership must be based on mutual respect and not punishment or dominance.  Answering the question, why do Border Collie’s work for men, McCaig explains:  “For four hundred years, sheepdogs have been bred for a complex set of skills and desires.  Inept dogs were put down.  Thus genetically, most sheepdogs have a rough idea what to do.  The trainer refines that idea and explores, with the dog, some of life’s contradictions.  The dog must be instantly biddable but be able to think for himself. … The good working collie uses reason to support his faith.  The trial dog needs great courage (how would you like to do the most difficult bits of your daily work before two thousand knowledgeable spectators?); a temperament that can handle stress, and finally, style.  When an eminent dog joins a dangerous man, they can create a performance that is, by either standard --- dog’s or man’s --- beautiful.

“That’s why the dogs do it:  because it’s beautiful.  When a sheepdog meets a man able to help him create beauty, the dog will put up with almost anything.  It’s sad when eminent dogs are given shoddy goods … to work with.”

One Scottish trainer in McCaig’s book, Geogg Billingham, stated “You can’t be a dog trainer until you’ve had regrets.  Sometimes I think most of it is regrets.”  He was referring to Tweed, a brilliant dog he had lost because he hadn’t had time to have him vaccinated, had worked the dog hard in a blizzard finding sheep, and had gotten him to a veterinarian too late to save the dog.  “I sometimes think … when I’m on my deathbed … they’ll come back.  All the dogs I’ve trained will come filing by.”

For me, the list of Border Collies I’ve trained is a short one.  Bonnie, Tri Boy, Nellie, Pennie and Bart.  None of them have experienced the stress of a sheep trial, but each one is talented and used for specific jobs on the farm.  Their most stressful experiences are controlling the urge to enter pastures on their own to do what comes naturally.  Sometimes they forget themselves and duck under the fence without command, only to be quickly called back for their independent thinking.  While I will never be considered “dangerous,” I am consistent in my rules for when and when not to herd cattle!  I am sure they mutter under their breath when their “fun” is cut short, but that is all part of the partnership.  It works well for us.  And my “eminent” herders understand that their talents will be required another day when cattle need to be moved and they get the command to “go under” the fence.  It will be beautiful to behold ---a Border Collie gift to the farm and farmer --- as they float out to drive the Herefords ahead of them until they hear “that’ll do” and their work is finished once again.

In finishing his book, McCaig says:  “If this has persuaded you to buy a Border Collie for a pet, I have done you and your dog a disservice.  If you don’t have work for a Border collie, or time to train it properly, your bright young Border Collie will invent his own work, and chances are you won’t like it.  There are dozens of dog breeds bred to be good pets.  If a pet is what you seek, you should choose among them.”

In the end, McCaig found a female Scottish Border Collie, Gael, to bring home to his sheep farm in Virginia, and Roger Bowman solved the mystery and found the true owner of the borrowed book, a happy ending for all. 
 
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With farmers and ranchers numbering less than two percent of the population, we are easy targets for more regulation.  The liability “buck” is being passed down to the bottom of the food chain.  The middle men are lobbying policy makers to force total traceability on everything we eat, from peppers to steaks.  It won’t matter what happens to our products once it leaves the farm gates, and whether every other food handler washes his or her hands after using the bathroom before touching the food.  The blame will be pointed to the management practices on the farm.

Like doctors who have been forced to purchase expensive insurance policies to perform defensive medicine, farmers will need to protect themselves from false accusations.  We will be spending more time proving ourselves innocent.  It’s a cost in time and money that neither farmers nor doctors should have to spend.  Both occupations are necessary for sustaining life.

People benefit every day from this system that brings safe food to their stores and tables.  They forget about the millions of meals they have eaten with no stomach upset or ill side effects, and dwell on a handful of people who make the news.

Some of the retailers understand that it does them no good to drive producers out of business.  Without growers, there will be no food supply.  The alternative would be buying all of our food off shore.  That is certainly not a viable solution since safe standards for agronomic practices could not be controlled in foreign countries by the United States.  We also would not want to depend on other countries for our food supply.  Oil prices should have taught us a lesson on that sort of dependency.  And, our national defense relies on our ability to feed ourselves.

Perhaps we have done ourselves a disservice by trying to bring more convenience to consumers.  People have forgotten how to clean and cook their food.  They smear germs around with sanitizing gels and sprays rather than stopping at the sink to lather up with old-fashioned soap and rinsing with hot water.  They want to unzip a bag and pop food in their mouths without stopping to wash up, whether in the grocery story or the drive-through fast food restaurant.  Who gets blamed for unclean hands? 

Consumer advocates and the media have injected a health-panic mindset into the American public.  They headline every food scare, needlessly bankrupting companies that recall products.  Rather than putting responsibility on end-product users to wash their hands, wash the food, and cook it properly, the blame is passed back down the food chain to those who produce it.  Have Americans lost sight of the fact that our nation has the safest food supply in the world? It is a fact that most of the advocates and media choose to ignore.

Unfortunately, the mindset of most farmers and some of the organizations that represent them is to acquiesce.  “It’s inevitable that we will have to comply with more regulations,” is the lament we hear from one meeting to the next.  “If we want to sell our product, we will be forced to make changes.”

I suppose I have never been one to not put up a fight if I felt strongly about an issue.  I may not have won every war, but the other side knew who was in the battle.  I remember vividly a former member of the House Transportation Committee telling me in my freshman year in the legislature that it was “inevitable” that all drivers in Pennsylvania would have to go to a centralized emissions testing station because that’s what the federal government was telling us to do.  I teamed up with another Berks County freshman legislator and we had the audacity to ask the question: “Why?”  That began a lengthy debate and months of legislative wrangling, but we got the wrong-headed policy push from Washington stopped with the help of the majority of our colleagues in the state capitol who finally had the courage to join us in saying “no” to the nonsense.

Sticking our collective necks out when issues are threatening our livelihood should not be such difficult decisions for the farm community.  And yet, when given the opportunity to speak up and speak out for our industry, few farmers personally attend public meetings to voice their concerns about proposed policies or to support the present-day agricultural system that allows farmers to feed more people than ever before in the history of the world.  We are obviously doing something right.  It’s time we all start sharing that message, every chance we get, that American farmers and our food industry are delivering the best food on the planet, for the smallest investment of consumer dollars.

It’s time for regulators to quit passing the buck on safe foods back to farmers, driving markets to other countries.  If that happens, consumers will be spending more of their hard earned pay for food from foreign soils where “good agronomic practices” has yet to be translated.  Additionally, the cost to ship in food will send prices soaring.  Consumers will ultimately shift their complaints to cry about safe and sufficient food supplies, but it may be too late for the American farmers.

The farm community in the United States is a minority.  We can shrink away from the controversies , cave in and disappear, complaining that there was no choice.  Or, we can use our small numbers to our advantage since we control the food supply.  While it may seem like David and Goliath, farmers can win the battle if we aim high, letting policy makers from Harrisburg to Washington know where we stand on onerous regulations that will only force more farmers to call it quits.

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When I was growing up, the threat of Communists dropping a bomb on the United States was a childhood fear.  The Soviet Union and the United States were sworn enemies.  People invested in bomb shelters in their home’s basement, stockpiled food in the event of an attack, and spent a lot of time worrying about something that never happened.  I recall vividly the anxiety that I felt as our elementary school teachers carried out exercises that supposedly would save students from the effects of a bombing.  We would all huddle under our desks and wait for the signal that it was safe to come out.

As I reflect on those totally ridiculous attempts to supposedly safeguard our lives from nuclear attacks from an enemy across the ocean, it reminds me of some of the hysteria I am witnessing today regarding agri-terrorism and its potential to be inflicted on America.  Policy makers are running around in circles trying to figure out how best to protect consumers from a deliberate act to destroy our nation’s food supply by a foreign disease being sown into our agronomic crops or livestock.  We are investing millions of dollars in “fallout shelters” for our food supply.  Hopefully, the future will prove that the United States’ citizens had no need of theses 21st century government safeguards any more than we needed those unused investments of the 1960s.

I attended a meeting this week that focused on foot-and-mouth disease.  How can we protect and defend our food industry from some culprit who may want to introduce this highly contagious disease to our farms.  While this disease is seldom contracted by humans and has a low morbidity rate in livestock, it is highly contagious among cloven-hoofed animals.  First identified as being caused by a virus more than 100 years ago, there has not been an incidence of HMD in the United States since 1929.  With quarantine, slaughter and disposal of infected animals, along with farmstead disinfection, this disease has been eliminated from North and Central America, Australia, New Zealand, Japan, and Ireland.  The disease occurs infrequently in Europe and Great Britain, but persists in Asia, Africa and South America.

My point here is not to suggest we ignore the potential threat an FMD outbreak could have on our livestock industry, but to point out that systems put in place years ago have worked to protect our food industry.  The new “cures” being proposed to respond to “suspected” cases could do more damage to the economy and the welfare of people and livestock than the disease.

For those who may have forgotten  their FMD facts, it is a disease that affects cattle, hogs, sheep, goats, deer, elk, and other cervids.  It causes fever, loss of appetite, weight loss, blisters around the mouth, feet and udder.  These blisters are heavily infected with the virus.  The disease is spread through contact with secretions from blisters, saliva, milk, urine, and can be spread by contaminated food, water, soil or through the air.  It can be carried by rats, dogs, birds, wild animals, semen, embryos or in contaminated meats.

While the opportunity for this disease to be transported seems almost too easy, the fact that we have not had any confirmed cases of FMD since the early 1900s should give us confidence in our current regulatory agencies.

I am not recommending that the safeguards we have in place today be diminished.  I am saying that we spend too much time and energy on the “what ifs,” getting computers to generate scenarios that might never happen.  Our highway infrastructure that allows food to be hauled all over our country in a few days does impose a risk of rapidly transporting diseases.  People traveling to other countries can also carry contagious diseases home.  Nothing is new about that information except a heightened phobia.

We all need to be vigilant.  But, we don’t need to be paranoid.  Scaring people into panic about food safety is not good business for anyone in agriculture and does nothing to address the real or imagined threat of agri-terrorism.
 
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Julia Staver was my very first “best friend.”  She lived on a farm close to my parents’ farm in Dauphin County.  One large farm divided our properties, but it didn’t separate us from becoming farm kids who would share lots of life’s adventures on our way to adulthood.

Julie, as I familiarly called her, lived back a long dirt road.  Her parents raised sheep, and had a large flock running on hills of green pasture.  My family farm was strictly beef cattle.  Despite my persistent imploring of my parents for the chance to raise a bottle lamb, no wooly additions were allowed on our farm.  One thing both Julie and I had in common was the love of horses.  I was envious when her folks bought Julie and her brothers a Shetland pony, the first of several equines to roam the pastures with their sheep.  Not too many years afterwards, my parents surprised my sister and me with a chestnut quarter horse, named Charlie by my mother.  Many childhood days were spent astride our trusty horses.

Julie and I were in the same grade school and enjoyed learning from the same teachers, having fun at recess, and getting involved in 4-H with other new friends.  We learned to sew from our 4-H leaders and our mothers.  I enjoyed visiting the Staver farm where gardening was a family affair.  Fresh vegetables and melons were served up, along with scintillating conversations about world events at their dinner table since both of Julie’s parents were involved in the field of education as well as farming.

I will never forget Julie’s early lessons in farm safety, as she cautioned me to “watch the ram” that was parading along the fence line, defending his pastoral territory.  While Julie was always an athlete and a fast runner, I was not certain I would be able to outrun this threatening sheep if he decided to chase me.  One unfortunate encounter with the ram’s thick skull taught me to never turn my back on the flock.  Despite the wind being knocked out of me and a bruise that would take weeks to fade, I was grateful for the helping hand Julie extended to me as I scrambled up off the ground and over the fence.

As we grew older, the paths Julie and I traveled became further apart.  She channeled her athletic abilities into girls’ field hockey and lacrosse, eventually earning a spot on the U.S. Olympic team.  We spent less time together in junior and senior high school, attending different classes and broadening our circle of friends.  College found Julie heading to the big city of Philadelphia to attend the University of Pennsylvania and study anthropology.  I headed west and earned an agricultural degree from Penn State.  We would see one another during summer vacations, and correspond infrequently by mail.  Staying in touch was sporadic, but our friendship didn’t disappear due to distance and changing directions in our lives.

I was happy to have Julie be part of my wedding day in 1975.  She visited in 1985 when my daughter Emilie was born.  Our busy lives did not allow much more than an annual greeting at the holidays after that.  Julie had decided to pursue a degree in veterinary science, married, had a daughter Sophia, and lives in the neighboring county.  She has been a long-time member of the veterinary practice we use for our farm, but she specializes in small animal work and spends most of her time in the clinic rather than on farms.  Our encounters are infrequent unless we have a canine emergency or our paths cross at Farm Show or Keystone International Livestock Show where Julie’s parents exhibit their Dorset sheep.

Three weeks ago, Julie saved my daughter’s Border Collie through her skills and caring talents.  I was confident that, if anyone could pull this dog through her life-threatening ordeal, it would be my friend.  And, once again, Julie’s helping hand was there.  While it may have been a routine emergency at the clinic, it was much more than that for my family and me.

My childhood best friend gave Emilie’s four-legged best friend another chance at life.  A friend in need, indeed … thanks, Jul.

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“Her chances are fifty:fifty,” Emilie sobbed into the telephone, barely able to breathe.  Her best friend lay on the operating table, fighting for her life.  “They are asking me if I want them to keep going to try to save her.”

We knew Nellie wasn’t feeling well that hot July weekend, but figured it was just homesickness for Emilie who was on the road with work coupled with the oppressive humidity and heat.  This normally vibrant Border Collie had come through a lot in the past eight months, having survived major surgery to free her small intestine from the effects of a deadly bungee cord that had become lodged inside her.  That benign "chew toy" had become a lethal weapon threatening to kill Emilie’s hardworking dog last December.

Thankfully, through the skilled hands of her veterinary surgeon, Nellie had bounced back from that episode and had resumed her life’s purpose of herding cattle and being Emilie’s four-legged best friend.  The hardest part of her recuperation was slowing her down, and keeping her “quiet.”  Anyone who has ever owned a Border Collie understands the impossibility of abiding by that medical recommendation.  Nevertheless, we limited her playtime with her siblings for several weeks until we felt she could handle the rough-and-tumble games that these brilliant dogs devise to occupy their idle time.  Fortunately for Nellie, she was mending during the winter so the cattle work was limited since the herd was confined to single pastures where they were expecting and delivering new calves.

We do not use Nellie on cows with new calves, but save her energy and speed for handling weanlings and yearlings.  She tolerates no slackers when she enters the pasture and rapidly sends them to the gate and greener grass to satisfy their insatiable appetites.  Her speed is too much for newborn calves and their protective dams.  We save her talents for later when manners have to be put on testy calves.

Nellie’s amazing abilities were apparent from the time she was a year-old pup and we introduced her to the Herefords.  At one point in her early experience, she rushed in too close to a cow’s hind foot and was sent somersaulting backwards when the hoof connected with her head.  Startled and shaken, Nellie looked like she was ready to run for the safe haven of the farm house.  She looked at Emilie who was equally frightened for the safety of her pup.  Knowing this episode would make or break her talented herding dog, Emilie calmly told her to “get the cow.”  Nellie never looked back, and dived into her herding heritage with assertion that has never subsided.  She has never allowed a cow to connect with her since then, and has commanded their respect for seven years.

Emilie had hoped to breed Nellie to capture her genetics in a litter of future cattle dogs.  Unfortunately, the timing never was right for Nellie or us.  Now at eight years old, Nellie developed a uterine infection that was trying to claim her life.  What we thought would be a relatively simple spay at the animal hospital became more complicated when it was discovered that the enlarged organ had ruptured and the infection had spilled out into Nellie’s abdomen.

Could she survive the surgery and the poisons that were pouring into her system?  Would it be better to just euthanize her?  These were questions Emilie had only a few moments to wrestle with as she waited at the clinic.  She wanted confirmation on whether she was making the right choice.  When she called, I tried to reassure and calm my daughter, but felt like crying, too.

“Nellie is strong and is a fighter,” I said, trying to be confident.  “She is in better shape than most dogs, and loves you.  That will pull her through this.”  My unspoken thoughts found me wondering whether we were asking too much of this brave little dog.  Emilie gave the instruction to proceed with the surgery and we all hoped for the best.

Lots of friends and family said “puppy prayers” for Nellie.  And they were answered.  She survived the surgery and has been on the road to recovery for almost two weeks.  She came home to the farm last Thursday and has been a good sport about taking her pills and resting.  With each day, she seems to be moving slowly toward full recovery.  This morning, for the first time since she became ill, she is playful and her eyes sparkle with mischief.  She never quit smiling for Emilie, throughout the ordeal.  But now she is giving all of us another reason to smile.  Nellie has beaten the odds so far.  I am optimistic she will soon be one hundred percent of her Border Collie self (minus a section of small intestine and an unused uterus) thanks to a lot of tender-loving-care from the skilled veterinary surgeon, technicians, and most importantly, Emilie.

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Berks County Commissioners have put their money where their mouth is when it comes to supporting our number one industry, agriculture.  With a unanimous vote on July 24th, they froze the Clean and Green agricultural values, rolling them back to 2001 levels.  This action is the result of several months of discussion and research by the county’s farm organizations, the assessment office, and the Department of Agriculture.

Since 2001, Berks farmers enrolled in Clean and Green have seen their taxes increase annually.  While other property owners have not been reassessed since 1994, farmers and forest owners have had their real estate revalued every year.  This was the implementation year for a 2000 law designed to clear up confusion in the Clean and Green program.  Unfortunately, the formula that was created to revalue the classes of soils in the three categories of Clean and Green enrollment resulted in increases for the agricultural land values on an annual basis.  The question in the minds of Berks County farmers earlier this spring was “Where will these increases stop?”

The Berks County Pomona Grange passed a resolution in March asking for the Commissioners to review the system used to value Clean and Green parcels and stop the ever-increasing tax bills.  That began the dialogue between the Commissioners, the farm community, and county staff.  It was an opportunity to share concerns about rising costs to farmers.  It was a time to point out that Berks County and most farmers in the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania are corn consumers, feeding it to livestock.  Higher grain prices mean higher feed costs on the farm.  And since the agricultural-value forumula used by the Department of Agriculture is weighted with a factor based on corn grain prices, the farmers expressed serious concerns about the current trends and how this might impact a ten-year average.  It got complicated, to say the least. 

The Commissioners’ vote on Thursday sends a strong message to the  farm community that these three leaders recognize agriculture as a key industry and a vital resource for all Berks County citizens.  They value the diverse enterprises that operate on the fertile land, from dairy to silviculture, and everything in between.

According to Doug Wolfgang of the Department of Agriculture, Berks County is not alone in deciding to abandon the formula to annually evaluate agricultural values.  He said about half of the counties in Pennsylvania are using a different method to deal with Clean and Green properties.

By freezing the agricultural values, the Berks County Commissioners have given farmers and forest owners more predictability when it comes to budgeting their local tax obligations into their operating costs.  And, it has saved the farmers enrolled in Clean and Green nearly $155,000 in higher taxes at the county level.  At a time when everyone’s pocketbooks are being stretched, those savings to the farmers are significant.  We understand it wasn’t easy for the Commissioners to give up those extra revenues in a tight budget year.  It took courage to stand up for agriculture and level the playing field when dealing with unfair farm reassessments.

When Pennsylvania’s constitution was amended by the General Assembly three decades ago to give preferential tax assessment to farmers and forest owners, the state policymakers understood there would be increasing pressures on these industries in the future to sell out and turn fields into houses or industrial sites.  The Clean and Green contract that landowners sign is a commitment to keep the land in production for at least seven years.  When that land is converted, there are serious penalties.

The benefit of lower taxes is a privilege under law that only comes when farms and forests continue to be used to raise food and lumber.  If that use changes, it is only fair that the tax benefits end and the interest to all citizens be repaid.  While the law allows for some limited exceptions, farmers enrolled in Clean and Green need to review the rules before selling any portion of their property or entering into other non-agricultural enterprises.  This may affect the farm’s eligibility for the constitutionally permitted preferential tax savings.

As the Berks County Agricultural Coordinator, I was pleased to assist the farm organizations in their effort to affect a change in policy at the county level.  The farmers took time out of their busy days to come to the 13th Floor of the County Services Center in the City of Reading to talk with the Commissioners.  They followed through with informational meetings, telephone calls, and letters encouraging action on this issue.  And, the Commissioners listened and acted on their request.

This is truly grassroots government in action.  It pays to get involved.  

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“I’ve signed you up for a marathon, Mom,” was the message I received from Emilie early this spring.  It took a few seconds for her words to sink in, and I caught my breath as I contemplated how I would be gasping for breath if I agreed.  I doubted that I could even cross the finish line in a marathon race.  Fortunately, Emilie quickly pointed out that I would not be running the 15 kilometer event.  Thankful I would not have to train in order to survive 9.3 miles of agony, I began to look forward to some quality time with Emilie in the 3 mile walk she entered both of us to compete in.  Power walking is not something I practice, but I figured I could keep up with the majority of the crowd if all I had to do was walk.  I get lots of practice on our farms’ hills as I move cattle from pasture to pasture.

All too quickly, July 12th arrived.  Emilie and I drove to New York where the state’s beef industry was sponsoring for the first time the annual Boilermaker.  They were joined by other cattle producers and industry representatives from nine states.  We gathered with all the other marathoners in a manicured park filled with colorful tents, and equally colorful people.  Beef was on the menu for thousands of people who lined up to sample a roast beef and broccoli salad roll up.  It was the perfect recipe for successfully attracting athletes and spectators back to putting more beef into their diets. Some who were reluctant to try the tasty treat soon came back for seconds and a copy of the recipe after their taste buds woke up to the unique taste of  this beef combo.  Athletes understood the importance of eating beef to build muscles and to supply zinc, iron, and protein in one great package.  They gave the Beef Council volunteers the thumbs up for serving the nutritious snack.

Emilie and I donned our special Team ZIP (Zinc, Iron, Protein) race shirts.  We posed for a photo close to the start of the race, and high-fived our fellow Beef Teammates, many from Pennsylvania.  Armed with a bottle of water and wearing a brand new pair of special sneakers made for walking, we waited for the start gun to signal our three-mile journey throughout the beautiful park.  It was a special time to enjoy the setting and spending the day with Emilie.

As we reached the half way mark, we passed serious walkers striding determinedly toward the finish line.  They had already completed the first half of the circuit and were intent on winning the event.  In contrast, Emilie and I were enjoying visiting with other walkers, learning more about their lives, and promoting the beef industry as people noticed our colorful shirts reminding them that beef is what’s for dinner.  We met a 71 year old woman who had walked in the Boilermaker every year since it started up.  Her daughter was walking with her, while her husband was waiting up ahead.

Families were plentiful at Saturday’s walk.  Parents were pushing babies in strollers.  Youngsters were racing ahead and back again as they completed the race.  Everyone who finished received a pin to wear with pride.  As Team ZIP headed back to the tent where our display and beef samples were still drawing hoards of visitors, I looked forward to the opportunity to continue telling the story about beef producers and our product to folks who probably never saw a cow “in person.” 

It was a long and tiring day, but it left both Emilie and me invigorated and enthused about the next day’s 5K and 15K races.  More Team ZIP members would be racing.  These were the heartier representatives for the beef industry.  Some were regular marathon runners.  Others hadn’t run seriously since high school.  Former Pennsylvania Beef Ambassador Chris Molinara and her twin sister Kim, were signed up to race in these long distance events.  Emilie and I took on the role of Beef Backers and cheered all the Team ZIP members along the course.  We strategically located in the “last-mile” section of the race, at the point where the route was all down hill.  Our message was well received by the runners who were fueled by beef as they turned on the speed to finish the race, even if they were only beating their last race’s time.

It was exciting to hear folks cheering for the runners, and cheering for beef that has become part of this event.  It was a great way to promote an important part of the agricultural economy, and it was a lot of fun.

Before the Boilermaker, the only race I had run since high school gym class was for a seat in the Pennsylvania House of Representatives.  This three-mile walk as part of Team ZIP was a lot more fun.  Even though Emilie and I weren’t first to cross the finish line, we felt like winners for being part of this effort.  Who knows, maybe we’ll start practicing now and sign up for the 5K in 2009.  Want to join us?  Team ZIP is still looking for a few good beef promoters who like to run (or walk) --- whether you enter the Boilermaker or a race closer to home.  It’s a great way to spend the day.
 
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I have never been squeamish about worms.  While I never was a fan of fishing with them as bait, it wasn’t because I didn’t like to touch them.  Rather it was because I had an aversion to deliberately serving them as lunch to a hungry Bluegill swimming in the farm pond.  I much preferred stabbing corn onto the sharp end of the hook, even if it wasn’t as attractive a meal for the hungry fish.  Unlike some of my friends, I actually enjoyed picking them up and letting them squirm across the palm of my hand, leaving slimy trails as they tickled along my fingers.  I would carry them carefully to the edge of a field and release them, watching them crawl into the cool earth or under the shade of overhanging grass.  They would disappear after a few contractions and expansions of their elastic bodies, to continue their life cycle in their earthen homes.  No fish dinner that day.

My appreciation for worms and the hard work they perform for the benefit of farmers has grown over the years.  As a gardener and a farmer, I understand the importance of finding them hanging out in the humus of the freshly turned ground.  Their voracious appetite for soil and organic matter helps my crops and garden vegetables’ roots pull nutrients, moisture, and oxygen out of the soil, nourishing the growing plant and keeping the soil porous.  Without worms, my farm's and garden’s yields would be greatly diminished.

The worm population is also an indicator of the weather.  As soil moisture shrinks, these creatures burrow deeper and deeper into the profile seeking out cooler temperatures and life-sustaining water.  It’s a blessing to get enough rain to bring the worms back to the surface.  The robins are especially happy to see them as they pluck them out of their holes to feed their brood of babies waiting hungrily in the treetop nest.

At last week’s no-till field day at the Landisville Research Farm in Lancaster County, earthworm advocate Joel Myers had to dig far deeper than normal to show on-lookers where the worms were waiting out the dry spell that had gripped the area.  With only a few live specimens to show for his work, Joel pointed to the tiny roots protruding from the face of the excavated pit that indicated how far down the worms had traveled.  Without their excavation, the roots of the plants would not have been able to penetrate the tight layers of soil.  The plant and the worm benefited from this partnership.  And I had benefitted from the refresher course through this educational demonstration by the retired Natural Resources and Conservation Service scientist.

Myers pointed out that as earthworms eat soil, their castings also help to improve the soil by mixing the soil with organic matter.  One Penn State study pointed out that earthworms consume between 20 and 40 tons of soil per acre per year.  In another study, they consumed 4 to 10 percent of the top 6 inches of soil in a year’s time.  All of this activity keeps the soil tilth in good health, and the earthworms munching translates into fertile topsoil since they are mixing organic matter and soil, and concentrating nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium and calcium in their castings.  It has also been shown that some micronutrients, such as zink and boron, are more available after they have gone through the guts of an earthworm, according to Penn State’s studies.

Why would earthworms be on the agenda for a no-till field day?  Research has shown that the total earthworm population in fields that have been no-tilled for a long time are double the number found in clean-tilled fields.  The reasons behind this are linked to the fact that tillage tends to dry surface soil, increases temperature fluctuations in the soil, and subjects worms to predation when the ground is turned over.  Crop residue is also important for earthworm survival.  When it is removed from the field, the worms' food source disappears.  Planting a cover crop or leaving some residue in the field helps to feed the worms.  While most herbicides don’t affect worms, farmers need to be careful when applying certain pesticides that may affect populations as well.

Of course, worms love manure.  Incorporating manure benefits both worms and crops by adding essential nutrients.  Scientists have found that liquid manure has a temporary negative effect on worm populations, but that declines after the ammonia and salt content disappear.

Feeding manure to worms may soon become an alternative agricultural enterprise in Pennsylvania.  As Berks County’s Agricultural Coordinator, I am working with an entrepreneur who is looking for a farm partner to worm their way into the soil amendment business.  In a controlled green house operation, the proposal is to feed the manure from 500 cows to a bed of hardworking worms, harvest the worm castings, and turn a profit by selling it to golf courses, vineyards, landscape businesses, organic farmers and other customers who want this high-quality organic fertilizer.  If all goes well, the number of cows that could be hooked up to the hungry worm factory could increase to 10,000 head.  This could solve the problem of too much manure on a number of farms in the state depending on where this operation is sited.

A novel idea, but not a new one, vermiculture has been practiced on the small scale for decades.  On the large scale, there are worms in California and North Carolina helping to turn excess dairy and swine manure into a valuable end-product that adds extra income to the farm.  Could this be the solution to animal agriculture’s nutrient management challenges?  I’m hooked on the idea of worms continuing to play an important role in protecting our soils and the environment, whether in the field or a fertilizer “factory.”
 
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One of the chores I enjoy the best on our farms is clipping pastures.  It doesn’t take a lot of concentration or skill to clip weeds and grass that the cows have left standing.  There is a pleasant satisfaction when I hear the chopper grinding into oblivion the arrogant thistles and multiflora rose bushes that seem to flaunt their ability to withstand the heat, drought, and any of nature’s challenges.

With every round, I watch the underlying grass appear.  It seems to thank me for helping it overcome the tough competition that has overshadowed it for too long.  Our cattle watch with anticipation of greener pastures from inside the barnyard fence.  They seem to realize that they won’t have the eye-offending brittle stalks of grass and weeds to contend with as they forage for young clover and new grass once the gate is opened and they are released into the freshly mown section.

Clipping pastures does not have the stress level that I associate with mowing grass down for hay.  Generally, there are fewer ground hog holes to watch out for since the cows are very efficient at closing these farm-equipment offenders that play havoc on the tractor drivers, too.  Rubbing their faces in the fresh dirt around the burrow entrance is a favorite pastime for our Herefords.  Within a few days, any pasture-squatting ground hog will have his excavated entrance hole politely but permanently closed.  That’s a relief for people as well as cattle since all of us won’t be at risk for breaking something as we travel across the field.

We try to clip pastures when the weather forecast is too risky for curing hay.  Storm clouds on the horizon generally bring cooler breezes and some refreshing showers to cool off the chore of clipping.  Raindrops on the tractor muffler burst into puffs of steam as the clouds pass overhead.  The dry ground soaks in the welcome moisture as the pastures seem to sigh with relief when much-needed water finds its way to thirsty roots.  As long as the clouds hold back down pours, I generally continue to wage my war on weeds and old grass.

Last week, as I was clipping pastures at my parents’ farm, I watched dark clouds gathering far to the west.  I prayed that these clouds would bring rain to the farm’s fields since several weeks had passed with no precipitation.  Each round I made with the tractor and mower was one pass closer to finishing the job.  I wanted to get finished with this chore so that our time could be spent on hay-making efforts.  Finding those windows in the weather to mow hay and let it dry, rake it and bale it without getting rained on is always a gamble when forecasts change without warning.  Since last weekend had one of those “chance of rain” predictions by professional meteorologists, pasture clipping became the top priority.

I kept the tractor rolling and the PTO revved up to clear another pass through the pasture.  I was almost able to see my progress from across the knob of the hill.  While I prayed for rain, I had conflicting hopes of finishing the job, parking the tractor, and enjoying the rain fall from inside my parents’ farmhouse.  As the staccato of the raindrops increased on the tractor’s hood, I knew the clouds were beating me to the goal line.  I saw my husband, Mike, walking toward the pasture and waving me to stop.  I figured he wanted to pull the tractor and mower through the pasture gate and into the shed.  But, instead, he said he would take over and finish the mowing.  He had just finished the fence-line trimming task he was working on.  Even though I questioned his judgment, I hopped off the tractor and headed for the house.

The sound of the tractor was drowned out by the rain hitting the metal roof of my parents’ porch within a few minutes.  I dashed back to the metal shed and found Mike, tractor and mower thoroughly soaked.  Now equally drenched, I hauled on the sliding doors to close them and keep the blowing rain outside.  The percussion of the rain made the inside of the metal shed reverberate like a drum.  There was no point in talking since we could barely hear ourselves think with all the noise.

Inside my head, the “I told you so” thought kept bouncing around as I saw the water pooling on the floor around us.  Trying to get one more round before the rain had left both of us soaking wet, but glad for the shower.  We waited for the storm to subside before walking back to the house for a welcomed break and a home-cooked meal of chicken pot pie, prepared by my mom and daughter Emilie.  We enjoyed the family fellowship for the next hour, and finished the pasture clipping after the sun returned later in the afternoon.

Sometimes it seems God is telling us to take a break and enjoy what truly matters in life.  And even though I enjoy driving tractors,clipping pastures, and getting jobs done, these rain-interupted interludes remind me that spending time with my family is what is truly important in life.

   
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When I was young, I would hear my parents commenting about a property we would pass on the way to my elementary school where someone built a giant fence between his yard and his neighbor’s yard.  My Mom would remark that it was a “spite fence.”  As a child, I had a hard time understanding what its purpose was, and how the name applied to the situation.  Now as an adult, the purpose and meaning have become crystal clear.

Back in the 1960s, the spite fence that caused such a stir was made of unsightly leftover materials and junk.  It was truly an eyesore.  The spiteful neighbor meant to block his neighbor’s view into his own backyard.  He used whatever materials he could find to trash the property line and annoy his neat and tidy neighbor.  What argument precipitated this deliberate feud fortification, we never knew.  But, the spite fence was certainly the talk of the township.

This small scale Hatfield and McCoy confrontation spurred the local officials to enact an ordinance to not allow this sort of timber tactic for getting even with neighbors.  Unfortunately, the spite fence remained in place since it was built prior to this new policy’s enactment.  It remained intact for years.  Eventually, once the property was sold, the nasty neighbor’s negative fence was dismantled by new owners much to the relief of the township and its rural residents.

Being a good neighbor was easier back then, it seemed to me.  Our non-farm neighbors were our friends.  They would bring drinks to my Dad as he worked in the fields, giving him a refreshing break and letting him catch up on their lives for a few minutes.  He never turned down a kind neighbor’s offer, even if he had just had a similar field break the round before.  Our neighbors understood farming and the hard work that went into it.  They respected my parents’ land and appreciated living next door.

Things certainly have changed over the past four decades.  Today, we see high fences dividing neighbors’ properties on a routine basis.  People hide behind these barriers to avoid knowing or working with their neighbors.  Sometimes they are designed to confine pets to their own yard which may be a good thing.  But does it truly take a six-foot high fence to contain a Chihuahua?

Today’s spite fences are certainly more attractive than the one I recall from my childhood, but they accomplish the same purpose.  They place a physical and psychological barrier between neighbors.  They are too high to see over or converse through.  They are not conducive to “over the fence” communication opportunities.  Wood or weather-proof plastic fencing blocks the way of getting to know the person next door.

In the farm community, maintaining good neighbor relations is a constant challenge.  The Commonwealth’s antique fencing law was enacted to ensure the cost of boundary line fences would be shared by both farmers since they would both benefit.  In that case, the adage “good fences make good neighbors” did apply since the constructed fence made sure livestock was contained on their home farms.  Unfortunately, the fences I see springing up today in rural Pennsylvania have nothing to do with keeping livestock under control.  Instead, they are an attempt to stake out the private territory of quarter-acre lot owners.  The “Keep Out” message comes through loud and clear from these new folks who want to keep to themselves even when they are living in a development where houses are packed in like sardines in a can.

When new folks move next to a farm, they quickly learn their fancy fences can’t keep out the noise, smells, insects, dust, and all the other factors that come with country living.  While they love the bucolic setting surrounding their newly-built home, they don’t appreciate anything that gets in their way of enjoying their fenced in back yard.

Unfortunately, in today’s world, farmers get more complaints served to them than refreshing drinks on a hot summer day.  While we can never go back, I much prefer reflecting on the time of my childhood when one spite fence was the talk of the entire township rather than the constant struggles we seem to have today with far too many non-farm neighbors.  Tearing down the fences of misunderstanding is just one more job to add to a farmer’s full schedule, but it is essential for our future.
 
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