WEBextra Minnesota Diary
WEBextra October/November 2007
Martin and Loretta Jaus have 70 organic dairy cows and an assortment of other critters. They also have three grown children: Heather, 26, a nursing student in the Twin Cities; Nathan, 23, an equipment specialist in his beloved north country around Chisholm, Minnesota; and Kevin, 20, working on the farm with his folks.
Kevin recently married Nicole Hoffman, and Heather is engaged. All five youngsters are significant players in the success of the family farm.
The Jaus family milks twice a day, and raises their own young stock to either join their herd or supply organic meat. The farm is pretty self-sufficient, supplying all the feed the cattle consume.
The farm consists of 410 acres that include small grain, alfalfa, corn and soybeans. Rotationally grazed pasture occupies 105 acres. Infatuated with wildlife, Martin and Loretta have 30 acres devoted to projects like wetland and prairie restoration, tree plantings and wildlife food plots.
Three generations of the Jaus family worked the land before Martin and Loretta, who say their mission is to honor previous generations by treating the land tenderly and respectfully, keeping the farm strong and healthy for the future.
After assuming ownership in 1990, Martin and Loretta undertook several conservation projects and also officially certified their acreage as organic. In 1994, they certified the dairy to serve a specialized market for milk. In 1997, they joined Organic Valley Family of Farms, a unique farmer-owned, independent cooperative based in La Farge, Wisconsin.
Here are portions of Loretta’s monthlong diary that did not appear in the Oct/Nov issue of Farm & Ranch Living. As Loretta
wrote her diary from July 10 to August 10, the farm was suffering a severe drought.
• JULY 11—Wednesday. I’m off to the calf barn to feed the weaned calves. Normally this takes 20 minutes, but we just yesterday moved in a group of calves that have yet to acclimate to their surroundings. There’s a chorus of bawling rising to the rafters the first couple of days until everyone settles in.
I’m watching the most vocal ones to see that they know where to find their feed and water. This transition can be difficult for them, so we try to keep things as calm as possible.
We met friends from Land Stewardship Project and Minnesota Farmers Union at an organic field day hosted by the University of Minnesota’s Southwest Research and Outreach Center at Lamberton. Politics have never been a key interest of mine, but recently I’ve learned the importance of being involved.
So now I try to stay in touch with local legislators. We’re fortunate. Our district’s representatives are attentive and responsive, and seem to appreciate the constituent contact.
At the field day, we discussed the latest developments in the Farm Bill. There was also discussion of sustainable/organic funding issues at the University of Minnesota.
• JULY 12—Thursday. We have a number of ways to control weeds in our soybeans. Key among them is a delayed planting strategy whereby we work the soil, let the first flush of weeds come up, then rework and plant. We’ve done some trials on our farm, and noticed dramatic differences in weed populations when we make withdrawals from the seed bank in the soil. Delayed planting, hence delayed pollination relative to the fields around us, also helps protect our
crops against GMO contamination.
If all else fails, we pick weeds by hand. Kelly, our neighbor, helps.
Marty and I prepared for combining small grain. Then I moved hutches and pen panels with the Skid Steer to begin cleaning up the area where we raise calves. After removing the old bedding, we let the sun sanitize the area before the next calves are moved in.
After supper, Marty milked and I combined. I got in about 9 p.m. and did some baking for my niece’s bridal shower Saturday.
• JULY 13—Friday. This afternoon, I run errands, then go back to combining. The golden ribbons of grain streaming into the machine, with kernels slowly bubbling up in the hopper behind me, prove a soothing exercise. Our primary summer feedstuffs are now either parched by drought or have already perished. We’re relieved that the grain yield is satisfactory.
We’ve been on the phone tracking down organic hay, and Marty located some in South Dakota. That will
help keep the milking cows in feed, but we’re trying to find a home for most of the other animals. We aren’t going to be able to sustain them here because of the drought. It’s hard to think of sending them away, but our options are limited.
• JULY 14—Saturday. After milking and breakfast, Nate and Martin tour the farm. It’s probably been close to a year since Nate has seen the farm during growing season. They check out the farm pond, which has developed into something of a recreational area, thanks to Nate’s efforts. Years ago, he began mowing pathways around what had been basically just a swimming hole at one end of the pasture.
With the easier access, the pond became our regular respite after a hot day of baling or walking fields. Martin built a dock for fishing, then a diving platform. Eventually, the top of one end was leveled out to accommodate a volleyball court. The highlight is the rope swing Nate hung from an obliging Cottonwood tree at the pond’s edge. The younger crowd enjoys this feature. Today, we deliberately slowed our pace to enjoy Nate’s company.
Throughout the majority of the year, Martin and I share three meals together each day. Now, though, we’re running opposite directions for breakfast. At lunch, I’m sometimes late from the field, and we’ll miss each other. Supper is pretty regular at 5:30, but it isn’t always the most thoughtfully prepared meal, depending on how many surprises jump up for us during the day.
Today we enjoyed a leisurely meal of ham and veggie pasta salad, fresh fruit, and a slice of double chocolate quick bread for dessert.
• JULY 15—Sunday. After church, we ate dinner early: barbecue meatballs, potatoes, garden green beans and fruit salad. About noon, Kevin and Nicole headed out to begin baling the straw. Nate and Marty were in the hay barn unloading the wagons. It’s beautiful straw, the kind that virtually explodes when you pop the twine from Marty’s tightly packed bales.
Yard work was my mission today. To spare the grass unnecessary trauma in this drought, I haven’t
mowed for almost 6 weeks. Here and there the weeds have shot up making things look pretty unkempt. Sprucing up will be good for our morale. The lawn is still dead, but now it’s an even dead.
• JULY 16—Monday. Thank goodness for a pair of Hungarian partridge that provided some comic relief to the drought. When I took a walk down the gravel road, I came upon them raising tiny puffs of dust. The two birds were zigzagging swiftly back and forth across the road with all the grace of a couple of malfunctioning mini-robots.
• JULY 21—Saturday. Kevin took care of feeding and evening milking. Later, Marty asked Kevin and me for help breeding a couple of animals out in the pasture. Usually, we have a bull take care of our breeding needs for the young stock. Our last bull, however, was one scary dude. Given that and these young animals coming into heat quite late in the season, we decided to forego the bull this year.
• JULY 24—Tuesday. Martin spent the day moving hay and bedding all the animals—a new adjustment to the routine since the young stock are now home from the pasture. I ventured to the garden to harvest beans and tomatoes, but returned with a load of overgrown yellow squash that I apparently missed last visit.
I spent most of the day inside away from the oppressive heat brushing up for a discussion of the Farm Bill. I’m a little overwhelmed with the volume
of information and how quickly it changes.
• JULY 25—Wednesday. While I feel fortunate to be a part of an operation that’s sprouted from such a long rich history, I understand that along with all the good things passed down, sometimes things come along that don’t always make sense today. So it’s good to be evaluating, always scrutinizing, what we do.
I enjoy the perspective of other farmers—seeing how they do things, how they think. Today, I visited with an organic farmer near the Twin Cities. We covered an array of topics, including how carefully he manages his soil life, and how that affects forage quality and animal health. The discussion centered largely on Brix and the energy component of feedstuffs.
If there was a downside to this excursion, it was seeing how development is gobbling up farmland. Perhaps once a year I travel through this area southwest of the Twin Cities, and each trip leaves me progressively more troubled. The subdivisions are encroaching within several miles of this farm.
I’m all for building strong connections between consumers of food and those of us producing it. Yet I know that simply living in close proximity to one another doesn’t necessarily breed the desired relationship. Urban and rural values can clash. The trick is to find a way to capitalize on that interface. Now there’s a project!
• JULY 26—Thursday. I scurried about tying up loose ends before heading for La Farge, Wisconsin, home of Organic Valley, one of the nation’s largest producers of organic dairy products. I’ll attend a co-op event at this weekend’s Kickapoo Country Fair to help educate and encourage young people on their way to becoming organic farmers.
Before leaving, we had some cattle to load. While at the barn, we also moved big bales in for bedding.
I finally hit the road at 3:30 p.m. As I traveled east, the radio alerted towns just behind me of impending severe thunderstorms with heavy rains, hail and 60-mile-an-hour winds. The ominous looking clouds in my rear view mirror kept me pushing forward, but the storm front curved around to intercept me as I left La Crosse, Wisconsin.
I was soon in the thick of it. The rhythmic tick-tock of the wipers kept pace with my prayers that back at home this storm had dropped some healing rains. And, oh yeah, there were a few prayers going up that sometime this evening I might actually reach my destination.
It was pitch dark and pouring rain as I meandered up and over, down and around coulees. I was on secondary roads that turned into secondary secondary roads and weren’t on my computer-generated directions.
But the hotel appeared right on schedule. I opened the car door and stepped into the ankle-deep river of rain rushing through the parking lot. The enthusiasm of the desk clerk cheered me up. This area, too, had been suffering from drought. She was a farmer, and the rain made her positively giddy. On second thought, maybe she was amused at the sight of this soggy wayfarer sloshing into her lobby, water squishing from my shoes.
I checked in with Martin—the rain that chased me all the way here skipped our farm!
On the lighter side, Martin was upbeat about a visit with a young man from the University of Minnesota who is working on a project to educate people working with operations like ours, including bankers, educators, consultants and business people.
We’ve heard horror stories about the difficulties some farmers face in having to work with people who don’t understand alternative farming methods. Especially in the financial arena, this kind of education can make the difference between whether
a farm survives or not.
• JULY 27—Friday. As a group, we travel to Cashton, Wisconsin for the grand opening of Organic Valley’s new distribution center. Located in a “green” business park, it’s state-of-the-art. All of that makes me very proud, but not nearly so much as the fact that the facility is here in a small rural community when the cooperative was persistently wooed by much larger, bustling business centers like Minneapolis.
It’s bringing jobs and commerce to this area. Apparently, I’m not the only one taking note of that. Masses of citizens—I’m guessing well over 1,500—crowded onto the grounds. The governor was here addressing the crowd regarding the impact of this effort.
I risk sounding like a commercial for our cooperative, but who doesn’t love a happy ending where good prevails? The Organic Valley mission is all about making tough, sometimes unorthodox choices to help family farmers and rural communities by producing wholesome food. Our farm owes its existence to this mission.
I hear the same story repeatedly from among the 1,100 other family farmers/owners of the cooperative. Small towns in Wisconsin and 29 other states have been revitalized by this mission. I’ve visited with consumers for whom this message resonates so clearly that they buy Organic Valley’s products, launching the cooperative into its national leadership position. So, for me, being here today was a celebration of the fact that a business can flourish by being ethical and by putting people, animal well-being and the environment first.
Back home, Martin finished morning chores then drove several hours to attend a funeral of a long-time family friend. On the way home, he picked up a rental scraper. He’s got plans for one of our conservation areas. When he got home, he found a discouraging message regarding Wednesday’s planned shipment of our steers.
Because Minnesota had a case of TB last year, these animals, destined for Wisconsin, need to be tested. It will be Monday before Dr. Taggatz comes to administer the
tests. Then there’s a 3-day wait to read the results. If anything shows up positive, there’s another wait for the state vet to come to retest. There is no way a Wednesday shipment is possible. The delay is disappointing and devastating for our dwindling hay supply, but we understand the necessity for the precaution.
• AUG. 2—Perspective—it’s a word that’s been a result of the collapse of the I-35 bridge in Minneapolis yesterday, I’m taking another hard look at the my perspective. My perspective today is that, for all our problems here at the farm, we are blessed. We realize that anyone we know or who is dear to us could have gone down in the mangled mess of steel and concrete—and we know that others are suffering far more than we are. In fact,
by comparison, we are very well off!
• AUG. 3—The corn we have for dinner, our first of the season, is a gift from our neighbor. We’re blessed with the best neighbors a person could have. I’ve taken my share of razzing from a couple of them who always seem to be on hand for all the stupid things I’ve ever done on the farm: Tipping a load of straw into a soggy, deep ditch; doing wheelies on the tractor when I put the field cultivator down too quickly, etc. etc. etc.
However, I can’t complain. First, the razzing was justly deserved. Second, though they’re readily on hand to keep me humble, they are even quicker to come to our rescue in times of need. Third—and most important—they are very understanding and patient in dealing with the challenges of neighboring an organic farm.
Weeds spreading to them and spray drifting onto our organic fields can both be sticky issues between some farmers. Without neighbors like ours, life could be pretty unpleasant.
• AUG. 6—Monday. Martin hauled manure from the new barn where we’ve moved everyone to from the pasture. When I went out to talk to him, Nala, the yellow Lab pup, came along. She took off to play her usual cat and mouse game with Gertie, a goat that ended up here on the farm by happenstance.
One cold November day the back doorbell rang, and there stood our AI supplier, holding a goat. “So, do you always travel with a goat?” I asked. He said he thought the goat was ours, had gotten out and was returning it. We made inquiries but never found the owner. So we ended up with an ornery critter that has a fierce stare and a formidable set of 10-inch horns.
Watcha’ gonna’ do except name her and feed her? We also began puzzling over why she was getting so fat. The answer came in March when we entered the calf barn and found two of the most adorable baby animals I’ve ever set eyes on. Zippity and Dooda quickly endeared themselves to everyone—but Gertie remains a challenge to this day.
We’ve had plenty of strays over the years—cats, dogs, even a pig—but never a critter like Gertie. She’s finally met her match with turbo-charge Nala who runs and dodges and teases.
• AUG. 8—Wednesday. In the same field where Martin baled hay, Nala disturbed a pair of gray partridge. They are beautiful upland game birds that, 20 years ago, I’d see huddled together in large coveys out in the middle of barren, snow-covered fields during the dead of winter. Then they disappeared. Only in the last couple years have individuals reappeared. Now this pair is raising a brood. Today, we enjoyed the show as the couple outsmarted Nala, diverting
her from their young.
• AUG. 10—My, this month has flown! Summer is waning and we’re beginning to look forward to fall. Thanks for joining us—it’s been fun having you!
