And what a perfect time of year to celebrate the hundreds of farmers and agribusinesses that invite visitors throughout the growing season, and beyond. Enjoy the fall colors as you to pick crisp apples, wander through a corn maze, pet baby farm animals, sip wine among grape vines, try some hard cider, or take a pasture walk.
Governor Evers’ proclamation
The Governor’s proclamation recognizes agriculture’s impact on the state economy: nearly 64,800 farmers on 14.3 million acres; 435.7K jobs; and a $104.8 billion impact on the state’s economy.
Many thanks to the Governor and to the Wisconsin Agricultural Tourism Association for this formal recognition.
Our farm, Bull Brook Keep is a small, grass-fed-grass-finished cow/calf operation, and we market our beef directly to consumers in Wisconsin and eastern Minnesota. Visitors are not only welcome to Bull Brook Keep, they’re fundamental to our mission. Dave and I intentionally established our farm as a platform for conversation, education and recreation. We welcome over 200 adults and children every year. We appreciate every opportunity to explain why we’re committed to regenerative practice, and to farming in harmony with the seasons. We like walking the pastures, introducing visitors to the moos, and learning about your food journey.
We hope you’ll come out to the farm some time this week. Just give a call. We’d like to hear from you.
Wasn’t it just Memorial Day? Yup, another growing season is coming to an end. Fog hangs heavy over the pastures in the mornings. The days are getting shorter and the evenings much cooler. Trees are turning on nearby hills. The sumac at the northern fence post is blazing red, as are the hawthorn berries. Bees are a loud cloud above the chive blossoms, and bright yellow heads of goldenrod sway in every ditch and fence line.
Bees busy in the chives
Thorny hawthorn
Stiff goldenrod
The herd has been grazing happily all summer and fall. As usual, they take a mid-morning lie-down from about 9:00 AM to 11:00 AM. It’s a sign of a healthy, contented herd.
And that’s a major goal: healthy cattle raised on healthful grass. Another is to work in harmony with the season.
And so, it’s time: We begin the 2021 beef harvest in a few days. If you’d like to order, please do so early to secure your beef.
Please know that you don’t have to buy half a cow to enjoy the great taste and high nutrition of grass-fed-grass-finished beef. Our variety packages start at just 30 pounds. (A variety package includes ground, steak and roasts.)
Don’t hesitate to call, email or text with any questions. We’d like to be your farmers.
Join co-host Dave Corbett and me tomorrow, July 24th, when Deep Roots Radio goes on the road to learn how national wrestling champs are pinning a spotlight on local food. We’ll be at the Amery Farmer’s Market from 9:00AM to 9:30AM.
Join us at the market, or tune in on the radio or on the web: 93.1FM in and around Amery, WI, or www.wpcaradio.org all around the globe, 9:00-9:30AM Central.
This is one of the high points of summer: the Eat Local Co-op Farm Tour! Collectively sponsored by a dozen Minneapolis/St. Paul MN natural food cooperatives, the annual event encourages co-op shoppers to walk, bike or drive to rural and urban farms within 80+ miles of the Twin Cities. Cancelled last year due to COVID, the tour is back! Yippee!!
This is Bull Brook Keep‘s fifth year on the map, and we sooo look forward to meeting
you. We’ll walk the pastures, meet the moos, sample some beef (oh, yum), and watch a demonstration of rotational grazing. (That’s where we move the herd from grassy field to grassy field so that they can enjoy fresh grass and get some exercise.)
We’ll move the cows at 11AM, 1PM and 3PM. Please join us. And since there are other nearby farms participating in the tour, you can visit several of us in a single trip. Here’s the map.
So, come on out. We’re an easy ride on good roads no matter where you’re coming from. Wear comfy shoes, hat and shades.
The evening was wonderfully cool, and although the light was fading fast, I was sure I had just enough time to get my herbs transplants into the garden.
I had my trowel and garden fork, a little map showing where I’d place the plants, and a kneeling cushion for my knees. I’d sprayed down my jeans against ticks and my ball cap against bothersome mosquitos. “Let’s go, Siggy.” And so my corgi and I climbed a slight rise to a generous plot set aside for medicinal herbs.
I could see the herd just across the field. I’d moved them to a fresh paddock just hours before. And there was a cow, #7, a red-and-white Buelingo, trumpeting across the fence to the next open field. She was calling for her calf. She had been pacing the fenceline for a good half hour, and her call was sounding more and more desparate. Where was her calf? Born just this morning, the little red-and-white heifer was strong and healthy and had immediately followed her mom around on long, wobbly legs.
Where was she?
The cow’ was getting more agitated as the dark edged in.
Up until a couple of years ago, I wouldn’t have been too bothered by the scene. Calves love to slip under fences and walk away from their dams. But last year, we lost two calves to coyotes and I just didn’t want to chance that again.
And so, I got off my knees, dusted off my jeans and headed to the garage for a flashlight.
“Come on, Sig. Let’s find this little girl.”
Fortunately, it was a very brief search. The calf was nestled down in some long grass just a few yards from the fence. It’s amazing how well calves can disappear in high grass. There can be a dozen of them right in front of you, and you’d never know.
new Buelingo heifer
It took quite a bit of jostling to wake her and get her on her feet (very young calves can be tough to move) and headed back towards mama. Meanwhile, the entire herd had lined up along the electric fence line, and watched me struggle with the little animal.
I eventurally pushed the calf back under the fence where she was reclaimed by her dam.
By then, it was nearly dark, and Sig and I walked back to the house by flashlight.
The herb transplants will have to wait till tomorrow.
“I know to you, it may sound strange, but I wish it would rain.
Oh, how I wish that it would rain.
Oh, yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah” The Temptations
It’s been weeks since we’ve had anything that’s amounted to anything. Stretches of grass by the house and driveway have gone pale tan. Parched blades crackle underfoot. Every night, after I brush my teeth and put the dogs in their kennels, I check the 10-day forecast, and I’m nearly always encouraged by the little rain and thunderstorm icons. My spirits lift with the hopeful percentages: 50%, sometimes 60% possibility of rain two or three days out. And for the last 6 weeks or so, I’ve awakened to evaporated promises.
I look skyward and grimly watch the clouds shrink as the day progresses. Come evening, I often see thunderclouds build to the south, and virgo ghosting far to the north. But here? Nada.
Fortunately, the permanent pastures are still holding out — better in the low areas than on the higher, drier ridges, of course. We don’t plow or till, and the rotational grazing we use with our beef cattle is helping maintain good soil texture and moisture, but we need rain. There’s just no substitute for it.
I don’t know if there are any words to describe the 2020 virtually all of us are struggling through. Every day we’re assailed with news stories and personal accounts that feel more bizarre than the previous day’s reports.
Dave and I are really grateful for these months of relative peace on the farm — working for the health of the land, our cattle, and ultimately, our family and friends.
Well, I’m not going to attempt deep philosophy, but I will offer one bright note — our online store is open again and you can noworder grass-fed-grass-finished beefto suit your budget, freezer space and appetite.
A few of our grazing Buelingo beef cattle
Reserve 25 pounds of ground beef, or several packages of delicious summer sausage — made without artificial nitrates or nitrites.
Choose the size variety package that meets your needs. These packages range from 30 pounds to 200, and contain a selection of steaks, roasts and ground beef. All cuts are vacuum packaged, clearly labelled, and frozen to -20 degrees to preserve flavor and quality.
Boost your immune system by making bone broth with our grass-fed soup bones — lots of meaty bones as well as marrow. Our cattle never get hormones, subclinical antibiotics or grain, so you can be confident of the nutrition in your broth.
Quantity is limited and we’ve scheduled our last harvest. Reserve now.
Questions? Call 651-238-8525, or email, sylvia@bullbrookkeep.com. Dave and I look forward to being your farmers. Sylvia Burgos Toftness
Boy, I enjoyed this morning’s Deep Roots Radio chat with Nancy Graden, medicinal herbalist/farmer, and owner/operator of Red Clover Herbal Apothecary farm.
In addition to cultivating over 50 plants on her certified organic farm in Amery, Wisconsin, Nancy harvests 20 others for her broad line of herb-based products. Today, she introduced us to several plants we can find growing right now in our yards, farms, ditches and woodlands.
pasture herbs
I’ll post Nancy’s podcast tomorrow, but I thought you might find her 14-page resource notes and photos useful this afternoon. I’ve also resposted Nancy’s detailed perspective on herbal helps during COVID-19.
In light of emerging scarcities, and a desire to provide a healthful alternative, Dave and I are offering a smaller variety pack of our grass-fed-grass-finished beef. This 15-lb. pack is called “To Your Health!” and includes ground beef, roast and steaks. You can pick up at farm, or at a drop site (+$5) in Mpls/St.Paul metro, and Wisconsin Polk and St. Croix counties.
Suppy is limited. Find out more and to order, click here.
Wishing you health and calm.
Sylvia – your local, sustainable farmer
Larger packs, ground beef, soup bones and summer sausage also available.
Questions? Email (sylvia@bullbrookkeep.com) or call, 651-238-8525.
Fresh air, sunshine 24/7
USDA processed, vacuum packed, deep frozen
5-7-hr flamed-brandy chuck roast
Concentrated beef broth gel
Beef soup bones
Farmstead Pho
100% grass-fed, no grain, no hormones, no subclinical antibiotics
I tucked my curls into my wool beret, pulled on my Wellies, and headed out, the hounds scrabbling around my knees. The mist felt good against my face.
“Oh dear,” I said as I turned a blistered grape leaf over in my hand. I held it up for Dave to examine: it was twisted, covered with galls and browning to brittleness.
Quick examination revealed all the vines were similarly affected.
“I’m afraid the grapes haven’t performed as we’d hoped,” I said to my husband, who frowned as he reviewed the long rows. “It’s so disappointing,” he huffed. “I’ll ask Tom to get the gardener out to take a look. Maybe he can tell us what’s going on and if there’s a remedy.” He gave me a rueful grin. “We just never know what a season will bring, do we, my dear?” With that, he shook his head, whistled for the dogs and headed off to the southern-most acres.
“I won’t be long,” he called back. “I’m just going to check on that covey.” As he strode off, I couldn’t help but smile: he cut a fine figure in his casual hunting jacket.
The wind was out of the East and laying the grass flat. The air was wet, and the change of season evident in the fading roses and orange hawthorn berries. I pulled the collar of my barn coat up to my chin and began a brisk walk back to the house. I waved a hello to Mr. Grange as I passed the orchard. The apples were heavy and quickly ripening. Good.
I’ll ask Mrs. Hanes to set a tray of hot tea and scones, I thought to myself as I pushed through the tall grass. Then I’ve got to get to the letters. Recently married, cousin Lisle was motoring across Wales with her new husband Archie and stopping at every hint of a top-notch brood mare for their stables. She had posted a short note after a particularly disappointing inspection. She’s fanatical about her horses, but a sweet girl all the same. I needed to let her know she could stop here before heading back home.
I wonder if she can join us for a nice long stay over Christmas? I asked myself, as I crossed the threshold into the front hall. I could get my dear husband to entice Archie with a late-season hunt: a plan.
“Thank you,” I said to the the young footman as he closed the door behind me and took my coat. I headed to the back of the house, rubbing the chill from my hands and anticipating the warmth of the sitting room fire.
—–
Believe it or not, that scene played in my head while walking my rural Wisconsin cattle farm, Bull Brook Keep, this morning. Although I grew up in the tenements of the South Bronx, and now farm in rough jeans and thick Muck boots, lift 50-lb. packages of alfalfa, and manage a small herd of beef cattle, my mind superimposes other worlds. I see patrician wardrobes, hear British accents, and enjoy the company of not-really-there friends, family, and servants.
And yes, I did come in out of the drizzle for a cup of milky sweet tea and small apple hand-pie (home-grown, no less).
Sometimes it’s the weather that triggers it. When it’s cool and the clouds are skidding low, I’m on a Scottish coast with the cast of Outlander. I drive carts with The Poldarks. Why? Too much PBS? Should I blame my mother? She put a book of Shakespeare into my 12-year old hands and that was the end of that. Then again, Leon Uris’s Trinity hit me like a ton of bricks.
Or maybe all this was brought on by my cousin’s husband. I was just 10-years old when Kevin boisterously joined the family, fresh out of the military and newly engaged to cousin Betty. He was tall and ruddy, as strong and broad as the college football player he’d once been, and one of the warmest, most gregarious adults I’d ever met. We called him Red, and I’ve been in love with red hair, and Ireland, ever since.
Hmmm. Not sure, because I’m attracted to the Scots and Welsh as well.
The imaginary scenes have refused to remain cerebral musings. Two years ago, I began offering Cowgirl High Teas in our modern farmhouse. From the comfort of a table decked in linens, china and crystal, guests sip oolong, green and black teas with a clear view of the cows. I make and serve everything – cook and buttler, a meld of Downton’s Mrs. Patmore and Mr. Carson every time. I shape-shift from “upstairs” to “downstairs” and back again.
Why? Is this the cumulative impact of annual re-reads of Pride and Prejudice? Maybe. Maybe it’s a yearning for the civility of another time, and to be part of a smaller, more easily comprehensible villege.
No, this is not about reaching back to the “good old days.” I fully understand that I would have been a scullery maid or slave 200 years ago. I also realize that the “upper crust” was usually blind to anything outside its close circle and immediate needs. They were motivated by greed and self-interest. So what else is new?
Still, I don’t want to live in just one place, in only one time, or bound to one social class. I like borrowing from the best around us now and the past, making it familiar and my own. I think we can permit ourselves the time to enjoy the company of new acquaintances around a table. We can give and accept service gladly provided.
It’s raining steadily now, and the forecast is for more of the same throughout the day. My smartphone app predicts sun tomorrow, which is a good thing because we have bales of hay to move to the farm. Yes, we will haul them. Dave and I won’t call on an imaginary groundskeeper, or wait for ghostly footmen to deliver us into our carriage. It’s our work to do.
All the same, I can’t guarantee there won’t be a Scots dialogue running through my head.
We hope you’ll come out to the farm some time this week. Just give a call. We’d like to hear from you.
