Illinois Farm Families Blog

I consider myself a relatively reasonable human being. I am modeling this behavior after my mom and grandma, who have strong morals and convictions, but tend to question and be skeptical, in an educated, calm manner.

Thus, my thoughts on the GMO (genetically modified organism) debate tend to err on the side of science, but I try to do a little research while I'm at it.

There's a craze going on. A food craze. An "eat nuts and berries and twigs" and "processed foods are the devil" craze, and while I agree, I would rather my kids eat fruit than fruit snacks, does that make corn bred to withstand drought that we planted evil? Does that genetic modification make us as farmers evil?

Answer from a majority of the crowd: No.

However, how does this corn that we inevitably harvest for fuel and food products and not to be confused with sweet corn that you can pick and eat, fit into the GMO debate?

Well, good question. Because to me, it's a simple answer: It shouldn't, because scientists have done their research.

I am not a scientist, but my understanding of GMOs is that it's just breeding. It's crossing these traits with those. It's making the outcome of the crop fit the need of our growing population. It's like Joe buying a "good bull" to breed with a "good cow." It's just genetics. There's no evil.

Scientists are in the lab, researching, and they're not evil scientists. They are just regular dudes who are wearing white coats and looking at CELLS. They're not figuring out a way to make the American public fatter. They have extensively studied this particular crop and have found a way for farmers like us to continue to survive during the driest of years and now the wettest of springs, and still harvest a corn crop so you folks can fuel up your SUVs with gas to get to Trader Joe's to purchase organic, non-GMO (supposedly) food and then make a stand on not eating conventionally grown food (sorry for the sarcasm, I'm grouchy today).

There's plenty of information out there that is both pro and con GMO. However, writers and skeptics like Fourat Janabi who have written books with anti-GMO sentiments, have back pedaled. Janabi has since written a second edition to his book, Random Rationality, realizing there's not much footing on the GMO debate. Thanks to conversations with scientists like Kevin Folta (read the conversation here if you're interested in the science behind GMOs, plus it's an entertaining piece), Janabi has written pieces of information so that people like me can see the GMO debate a little more clearly.

GMOs are not making us sick or fat. CHOICES are making us sick and fat. Regardless of whether you eat organic or conventional, there is no debate when you're eating too much of the wrong stuff. However, with all this GMO debate, and all the press it's getting, scaring the pants off of many Americans, it's filtering down to farmers like us, and that stinks, because we're just trying to keep up with the needs of a bigger and bigger population. GMOs are helpful in this respect, and if you don't believe it, try growing your organic garden without water this summer, and see how it turns out.

So before you post another shared "eat this not that" article on Facebook, check your sources, and think of my face, my husband's face, and know that we're not in cohoots with some big agricultural company, or trying to give you cancer or get you fatter or whatever. We're just trying to make a living in this crazy occupation that doesn't get a regular pay check, is dependent upon the weather, and has the responsibility to fuel and feed a growing global need.

Lucky us.

Emily Webel raises corn, cattle and four kids along with her husband, Joe, in Northwest Illinois.

This article originally appeared in the blog, Confessions of a Farm Wife, and is reprinted with permission from the author.

 

Unfortunately, also our society has a hatred of large scale producers, and, thus,  the efficient, safe, scientific way to effectively raise hogs on a large scale to help Americans continue their love with bacon.

Seriously.

I just read on Prairie Farmer's Facebook page that Purdue University's Chris Hurt (who has been on Purdue's faculty since 1981, teaching mainly undergraduate livestock and meat marketing...who I am considering credible, because, for pity's sake, he had to do his thesis on something in regards to MEAT!), projects that "by this spring the U.S. hog industry will have lost $3 billion in equity."

Prairie Farmer's reaction: "Ouch!"

Agreed.

3 BILLION.

As in 3 billion dollars. 

And here's the deal... high feed costs (which bodes well for a grain farmer, not so well for those who buy corn) are already causing crazy costs for those who produce hogs. While the demand  for pork is still high, there are still folks out there who don't understand the hog industry who are fighting for a lot of the mandates and crushing regulations and even refusal to purchase hogs from confinement operations. Generally speaking, these mandates and, well, crazy loud anti-confinement people base their opinion on emotion, not science.

Restaurants like Burger King, Chipolte, etc. are refusing to buy hogs raised in gestational crates (which don't google that, ask a real hog farmer what it means...because I did google its definition and boy do I regret it.). You've probably heard it, and that's fine to still go there, we're just a little ouchy about it because that means that my father in law has lost out on business because of these folks. 

Is it probably not humane to put someone in a crate, yes. But, it's not A HUMAN. It's a HOG, who, research says, likes the feeling of being closed in. There's a science to it, and I don't have much knowledge in it, but knowing what my father in law does to keep his hogs safe, healthy, and happily producing so you can eat your bacon with your eggs (which, don't even get me started on eggs...oy), I know that he is doing nothing but the best for his animals, often times at the sacrifice of his comfort for his hogs. And mine..because sometimes he's late for a family dinner because of chores, and I get cranky when I'm hungry.

Honestly, friends, let's let the experts do the mandating. You don't see me walking around telling a surgeon, where to cut. I won't be fixing any plumbing issues...that's for a plumber. I try to not even tell my hairdresser what to do...she went to school to cut hair...I just have it, what do I know about cutting it?  We all are good at something, and most likely passionate about it, so let those who are truly in the thick of it make the decisions.

That way, you can have your bacon, whether you sprinkle it on your salad or your ice cream!

Emily Webel
Emily, a town girl plunked out in the middle of nowhere, chronicles the surprises she's found living life with her husband and four children on a working grain and livestock farm in Farmington, IL. Confessions of a Farm Wife: The Good, TheBad, and The Dirty Truth of Life on the Gravel Road allows Emily, a former teacher, to use her educational expertise to share the truth about food and farmers to consumers everywhere. As a Farm Mom with the Illinois Farm Families campaign, Emily has enjoyed one on one experiences with city moms, fielding questions from fashion to fertilizer. 

Photo courtesy of The 50's Diner in Peoria.

There are many times that I question why we live where we live, geographically speaking. 

And then I have a mid-day like I did today, and I am thankful to live where we do.

So, quickly because I have pumpkin bread in the oven, small group to attend, birthday party invites to address, laundry to fold, and some other odds and ends to do, here’s my list.

*If we didn’t live 30 minutes from a Target, then my girls wouldn’t have the opportunity to ask me great questions like, “What does indescribable mean?” because of a song we heard on the Christian radio station. And, I was able to take the time to answer the question in great detail, only to be answered, “Well, I can describe Jesus…he’s the Christmas baby!”
Point well made.

*If we didn’t live where we live, I wouldn’t have to be truly diligent in my list making for a Target run…and if I do forget something big, like, oh…let’s pretend it was SNACKS for small group this afternoon…then I wouldn’t have been able to make pumpkin bread and smell up my house with that yummy cinnamony goodness that is pumpkin bread baking.

*If we didn’t live in the country, I wouldn’t be able to look out of my kitchen window to see my two big girls running through the freshly Turbo-chopped field, chasing the dog and getting excruciatingly dirty. My mantra for this to not drive myself crazy is, “I’m thankful; I’m thankful; I’m thankful.”

*If we didn’t live where we live, my kids would probably go to a different church. Instead, we go to a church in a neighboring community, a community where the kids go to the rival school, and we’re the outsiders. Although this is sometimes annoying, because sometimes I wish my kids could be with those whom they attend, we’re teaching them that friends can be from all over, and it doesn’t matter if they’re a Farmer or a Trojan. We’re all on the same basic team.

*Finally, I’m thankful for my gravel road. Although dusty and dirty and the bane of my OCD condition to keep my car clean, it announces the presence of a car with its dust and crackly sound, allows my life to slow down once I head off the hard road, and remind myself that nothing is perfect. Nothing can stay perfect, and I should be focusing on the things that I love and cherish and be thankful for them.

Timer’s dinging…bread done! Thankful for that!
Emily Webel
Emily, a town girl plunked out in the middle of nowhere, chronicles the surprises she's found living life with her husband and four children on a working grain and livestock farm in Farmington, IL. Confessions of a Farm Wife: The Good, TheBad, and The Dirty Truth of Life on the Gravel Road allows Emily, a former teacher, to use her educational expertise to share the truth about food and farmers to consumers everywhere. As a Farm Mom with the Illinois Farm Families campaign, Emily has enjoyed one on one experiences with city moms, fielding questions from fashion to fertilizer. 

And today's the day I give myself a little pep talk.

I can do this. I can be a part of this harvest. I can prep my fridge and freezer with easy meals to prepare for lunch and/or dinner at weird times. I can be the sole childcare provider, bather, spelling words quizzer, piano and dance lessons taker, etc., etc. I can do this.

I can do this, right?

Well, I will do it, and there will be complaining and sighing and quiet times when I enjoy seeing the combine running and the guys literally running from place to place, but it's the season. It's time, and let's get this crummy year over with, right?

So today, I am giving myself a pep talk. Yesterday was a prelude to the harvest season, as Joe spent the entire Sunday haying. It was a test, and although some of the day was hairy, I did it, and like every fall for the past six years, I spent it just wondering. Wondering what it would be like to be a family that spent lazy Sunday afternoons cleaning out the garage or at the apple orchard or watching football on the couch. I spent it wishing Joe was home with us, but trying to steel myself against this wish, knowing that the busy-ness of our business is just starting and I should quit wondering and press onward. Kids need to be fed, beds need to be made, so just move on.

That's my pep talk for the harvest season...Move on, Emily. Move forward, press on, and quit whining.

Because this is the best part, right? This is when the harvest is reaped, and we get to see how we fared during this drought. We get to watch big equipment, the kind that makes Jack stop in his tracks and point and make a "Mmmm-mmmm" motor sound. This is the time that my girls run to Joe with open arms even more so than usual, because they miss him, and that is special, right?

Harvest is upon us, and as I wait with a nervous stomach and anticipation, I also realize how lucky we are to be in a profession that has this excitement around it. The first field to be opened up will be the one where we have documented its growth (don't worry, I'll get a few last pictures), right outside my door. While we watch today, I know that part of me will continue to struggle with the exhaustion and isolation harvest brings, but I will keep repeating my mantra as I watch the combine roll.

That, and I'll be chasing Jack to keep him out of the way, so who has time to worry, right?

Happy harvest.

 Emily Webel
Farmington, Illinois

Emily Webel is a farmer’s wife, mother of four, runner, former teacher, and author of the blog, Confessions of a Farm Wife. She lives in Farmington, Illinois.

 

I’m digressing.

Anyway, I am really excited and passionate about this relationship we are forging between farmers and consumers, and after our first Moms Meet-Up this summer, I have been talking about being a part of this again if the opportunity arose. I came home from my first Moms Meet Up feeling like I could spread the story of my life on the farm to the entire world. Through good, meaty discussions along with aha! moments (both from the city and farm moms), excellent connections were made, and I was pumped.

So, as I readied myself (most importantly with a good outfit!) for this event just this past Sunday, my expectations were sky-high. However, as I watched the moms trickle in, counting the heads of the city moms in attendance, and realizing it was less than before, I was initially disappointed. I am passionate about this plight. I am ready to tell my story. As a mom, I can relate to the Field Moms because we all want to care for our children the best we can. However, when it comes to food, in this world of sometimes information overload, how do you know what is the right or true information? I truly believe that this relationship between the Field Moms and the farmers is an awesome way to close this disconnect.

That is what happened on Sunday. In the midst of this big, beautiful city, we farmers- who are generally more comfortable in tractor cabs than taxi cabs- sat down with the city moms, engaging in easy conversation about our lives, our livelihood, something we are so passionate about. This meet up allowed the city moms to not only hear the perspectives from one or two farm families, but farmers who not only raise corn and soybeans, but cattle, dairy cows, and hogs. We farmers were able to better explain ourselves and demonstrate the similarities between our farms, similar fears and concerns, and even demonstrate how alike we all are, even if we raise different animals and crops hundreds of miles from each other.

It was fascinating. This opportunity on Sunday truly showed that whether it’s farmer to farmer or city mom to farmer, we are all the same. We are all out here trying to care for our families as best as we can. Whether our commute to work is by train or taxi or dualie pick up truck, we’re all a bunch of folks hoping to do right in the world, whether its raising kids in the city or crops in the country.

I love being a part of these Mom Meet-Ups. I love sharing my story because there are times I can’t believe that I’m living where I do! I hope to keep telling my story to all who will listen, and hope that I can keep coming up to the city to enjoy all that it has to offer!

Emily Webel
Farmington, Illinois

Emily Webel is a farmer’s wife, mother of four, runner, former teacher, and author of the blog, Confessions of a Farm Wife. She lives in Farmington, Illinois.

 

The first time I drove our family vehicle, I was 15.
Even though I carried my learner’s permit and was taking my driver’s education course, I still felt unprepared. To this day, my brother recounts the terror he felt as I took the wheel. I was a town kid, and this was the norm.

Or so I thought.

My husband’s driving history was a little more interesting. You see, Joe’s a country kid, born and raised on a working livestock farm. He gripped the steering wheel of a farm truck for the first time at the tender age of 8, barely able to reach the pedals. This to me is shocking, horrifying, really. However, in my short research (read, asked a few other farm kids) this is the norm among kids who live on farms.

Joe learned to drive in the safe, competent and comfortable hands of his grandpa down country roads that were sparsely traveled. They worked together for years to master a skill that teenagers in town try to do in months. However, it was not for the thrill that Joe learned to drive, rather, the necessity. My husband’s family needed him to drive. His dad and grandpa needed Joe to drive through gates while feeding cows and calves, so as to get through them quickly, and not have the cattle come through. He wasn’t sent to residential areas or highways first, he learned on pasture lanes and gravel roads. However, at age 12, while Joe and his mom were attending a cattle show, his mom was unable to back the truck and trailer down the lane to the cattle barn. So, 12 year old Joe backed the truck and trailer through a narrow lane of other trucks and trailers to get to where he was going to unload his cattle.

12 YEARS OLD!!!!!

Our oldest daughter, Anna, is 6, halfway to 12, and Joe is already starting to talk about “when Anna drives.”

YIKES!
 
Thankfully, our farm is located on a gravel road, off the beaten path. And when it’s time, Anna will have traveled the bumpy road with her dad nearly every day, checking for newborn calves in the spring and scouting crops in the summer. She will know where to go (and not go) and how fast or slow she needs to go in a truck when it’s time, because she will have traveled these roads before with her dad. But I’m not ready, yet. I cannot even imagine allowing our sweet baby--the baby who we strapped in her car seat, buckled, checked, re-checked—getting behind the wheel of a truck. However, I would much rather her learn with her dad in order to be helpful on our very busy cattle and grain farm.

Thankfully, I have a few years to get used to my farm kid’s rite of passage. My hope is by then that I will be a little more used to this tradition in the farming world!

Emily Webel
www.webelfamilyfarm.blogspot.com

Emily Webel is a town girl turned farm wife. She and her husband Joe raise four kids, 100 cows, 100 calves, a dog, and nearly 2400 acres of corn and soybeans with her family. Although new to the agricultural world, Emily has learned a lot in her short term as a farm wife. You can read about her adventures as a farm wife on her blog: Confessions of a Farmwife at www.webelfamilyfarm.blogspot.com