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Spring has hit central Texas in full force. For us, that means it’s strawberry picking time. There’s a pick-your-own farm about forty-five minutes away from our house and we make several pilgrimages a year to load up on fresh berries and then basically eat ourselves sick.
My husband, The Geek, grew up on a farm, so he takes his berry picking pretty seriously. Since the deer started decimating our backyard garden, this is his one big chance to play in the dirt. (Not that he’s given up on having a garden, but the attempts to keep deer away from basil plants in the middle of a drought is a topic for some other post.)
We spent the better part of Sunday at the farm, picking berries. We pretty much closed the place down. By the time we were ready to leave, the man who owns the place was doing his evening chores, which included feeding the goats. He was nice enough to get one of the kids out of the pen so my daughter could pet it. Now, I gotta tell you, I think baby anything is pretty cut. But these baby goats were beyond cute. I was tempted to stash one of the kids in my purse and make a dash for the car when the farmer wasn’t looking.
I was reminded of last spring. My husband has an uncle who lives down by the border who raises boer goats. In May, my in-laws drove down to visit Uncle John to pick up a kid for my brother-in-law.
Naive, animal lover than I am, I said, “Oh! I love goats! Why didn’t they offer to bring one back for us?”
“Um, seriously?” The Geek asked after a long moment of silence.
“You’re right. They’re a lot of work and we have small children. Maybe in a few years?” I asked hopefully.
An even longer moment of silence past. As the seconds ticked by, I realized with dawning horror, that my in-laws had not driven down to the border to get a goat:
They’d gone to get a goat:
“Omigod! Don’t ever let them bring me a goat!” I practically screamed.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not a vegetarian. I eat plenty meat, even occassionally cabrito. It’s just that I like to pretend that all my meat comes into the world on white styrofoam trays wrapped in plastic. That’s where I draw the line. I’ll pick my own berries, but not my own goats.
I don’t know if it amuses my husband or annoys him, but that’s what he gets for marrying a girl from the suburbs.
What about the rest of you? Do you like your food on-hoof or on-tray?
Filed in: Jaunty Post
Mar 10th
2009
5:30 am
RobynDeHart Said:
Like you, I much prefer to believe that my meat arrives at the store in little packages having always been in that state. It’s not even that I think it’s wrong to eat animals, I don’t, but I don’t like to think about it either. I would have made a much better English aristocratic wife, running a household of staff, than I would have a prairie wife who had to feed cattle, then eat them.
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Mar 10th
2009
8:15 am
Kathryn Said:
Yup, I don’t want to know how it got to the supermarket, I just want to buy it and cook it. I went fishing once, when I was 12 — my dad was an avid fly fisherman and he hunted game birds too — and while I caught some fish, I cried at supper when it was time to eat them. Couldn’t do it.
I also remember when my dad had a friend who had a farm and this friend offered to let my parents buy half a cow for the freezer, all butchered and packaged up. It seems buying in bulk from the supplier is a lot less expensive. Unfortunately, my parents were visiting said friend, toured the farm and got introduced to Henry, the cow/steer they were buying half of. My mother had a very difficult time cooking that beef because it had a name and she had met him and looked into his eyes.
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Mar 10th
2009
8:19 am
Solveig Said:
Like your hubby Emily I´m a geek who was raised on a farm. I have to tell you (with utmost respect) I don´t like your take on the meat thing. We simply MUST think about where our meat comes from. You have to contemplate whether the animals you eat have had a relatively good (albeit short) life or if they have suffered due to ill treatment and/or negligence. Did the animals you eat spend most of their life outdoors in the sunshine or were they stuck inside all their life, did they get healthy organic diet or were they fed on hormones and other crap? Awareness is key girls to fighting animal cruelty and eating healthy!!
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Mar 10th
2009
8:44 am
Linda Said:
Oh, this post brings back memories.
I actually had a pet (or so I thought) goat as a kid. I was around 5 when one afternoon my mom loaded me and my brothers up for a day of shopping. Of course we were all excited and spent the day out just us kids and mom. When we get home mom makes dinner and asks me how I like the meat. I love it and tell her that, and she tells me well that’s your goat that you’re eating !
I thought that my parents were the most horrible people for murdering my goat. They tried to explain that it wasn’t really a pet. I’ve kept a soft spot for goats since then.
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Mar 10th
2009
9:17 am
EmilyMcKay Said:
Oh, Solveig, I agree with you completely about awareness. I should have specified that when my meat comes from the grocery store wrapped in plastic, the plastic is usually stamped with phrases like “free roaming” and “hormone free” and “organic.”
I’m all for that. And I don’t have any trouble contemplating all of that. Like you, I think it’s my responsibility. It’s the next level of awareness I can’t do. The “look me in the eye and stroke my ears. Aren’t I cute?” level. I can’t go from cute to yummy.
Geesh, I still tear up a little each year when we cut down our christmas tree.
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Mar 10th
2009
9:57 am
Shana Galen Said:
I’m a vegetarian, so I prefer my food without a face. I have had a bad experience with a goat. When I was little, my grandmother had goats, and I went in the pen to pet them. When I turned to leave, they butted me with their horns until I fell down screaming and crying. So they’re cute, but not sweet.
Also, if you do some research, “organic” only has to do with the food the animal is fed, not quality of life. “Free-roaming” means not in a cage, but the animal has most likely still spent her life (male chickens are smothered at birth in a trash heap as they can’t lay eggs)with a 1000 other chickens in a shed, never seeing sunshine or breathing fresh air.
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Mar 10th
2009
11:33 am
EmilyMcKay Said:
There’s a woman who lives out in the country by my mom who has about a hundred chickens in her backyard. She has this lean-to in the back where the hens roost in old suitcases. And she never complains when the Girl chases the birds around the yard. They really are free roaming. I buy my eggs from there whenever I can.
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Mar 10th
2009
11:57 am
Solveig Said:
Ah Emily I see what you mean :Ö) As I grew up around farm animals I have no problem with petting the little lambs, calfs, foals etc.. while thinking “mmmm you are going to taste GREAT!” ;öÞ but then that is just how I was raised :Ö)
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Mar 10th
2009
4:05 pm
Shirley Karr Said:
Linda, I think your parents were mean, too.
When I was 11 we moved to a house on four acres. Naturally I begged for a horse. My parents gave me a goat. Soon we got another because they’re social animals and need company to thrive. One had a kid, and then the other, and between births and adoptions eventually we had 12. I was allergic to cow’s milk but not goat’s, so I continued to raise them.
They’re smart and can tell who likes them or not, and treat people accordingly. Their personalities can be sweet or crotchety, just like humans. Those I bottle-fed as kids were devoted pets — I even got in trouble one day for letting them sit on the sofa with me watching cartoons after school.
My parents wanted to split a beef with another family, but I refused to raise a calf if it was going to be food. I was vegetarian for about a year after they slaughtered it.
My dad used to take me fishing, and odd thing is I had no trouble catching, cleaning and eating trout. But meat? On a tray, please, or better yet, already cooked and on my plate.
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Mar 11th
2009
4:04 pm
Romantic Girl Said:
I picked strawberries last year and ended up throwing out about half because they went bad before I could get to them all. I want to go back this year, but I’m going to make sure I eat them much faster. I was so sad to see all those strawberries go to waste.
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Mar 11th
2009
9:05 pm
Kit Frazier Said:
Well, I’m a theoretical vegetarian. I eat meat but I feel bad about it . . .
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