Arkansas' Interesting Milk Law

As we're dreaming up our new farm, there are some things that  we ought to consider before we erect any structures.  We do hope that our farm will produce enough of certain items that we can sell them to the public.  We knew that the Arkansas milk law had recently been revised but weren't sure what that might mean for us in terms of our milking facility.  Additionally, we know that there are regulations in place regarding the kitchen prep area used to produce "potentially-hazardous foods" such as the cheese, yogurt, and frozen yogurt we've considered selling.  So, we set out to research it.

What we found are some seeming inconsistencies in Arkansas law.

Our milk must be sold from the farm.  And, the law limits us to selling no more than 500 gallons of milk per month.  That's a whole lotta milk, so that shouldn't be a problem!  The law also mandates that we . . .
"Post at the point of sale a sign that is no smaller than two by four feet that includes the following information in large, clear text:
(A) The name and address of the farm with seller’s contact information; and
(B) The following statement:  'This product, sold for personal use and not for resale, is fresh whole milk that has NOT been pasteurized. Neither this farm nor the milk sold by this farm has been inspected by the State of Arkansas. The consumer assumes all liability for health issues that may result from the consumption of this product.'; and affix a label to the bottle or package that includes"  all the same information as is posted on the sign.    And, "A farmer who sells fresh whole unpasteurized milk shall permit inspection of his or her cows and barns by his or her customers upon request."

This all sounds pretty straightforward, so basically, all I'd have to do to start selling Razz's milk tomorrow, is put up a sign and make up some labels for the jugs.

If I'd like to sell the cheese sitting in my refrigerator, though . . .

I'd have to first have an inspected and certified kitchen that is built to code for the production of such foods, AND I have to use milk from a certified Grade A dairy. So, I can sell my backyard milk without having to jump through many regulatory hoops at all, BUT if I want to turn that milk into cheese before it leaves my house, I have to have a certified dairy first.  The fellow John spoke to about these codes said that we'd be looking at $15,000-$20,000 in just equipment for the milking parlor.  That doesn't even include the costs involved in building the parlor and kitchen to code.

Since we've got plenty of other goodies we can market more easily (eggs, chicken, honey, fruit, veggies, and milk -- to name a few), we plan to bypass this large upfront expense and not plan on selling cheese.

I know, I know.  I can hear a few of you grumbling.  Of all the products I make at home, cheese is the one that garners the most interest.  Lots of people have told me to contact them when/if we start to sell it.  It is sad because this stuff is SO good, but you'll just have to come on over and have some now and then.  You know I'll always have some made up in the fridge!

A Peek Inside the Closet

I've decided that you can tell a lot about a person by having a look inside his or her closet.  And, I don't even mean by how organized/disorganized it is. ;)

John and I will be attending a banking conference together soon, so I approached the contents of my closet, looking for things that might fall into the category of "business casual."  And, here's what my closet is telling me:  there's nothing "business" about my life. My, how things change!  There once was a time when I wore pantyhose -- every. single. day.  But, the contents of my closet today can basically be broken down into three divisions.  

First off, there's a good-sized section of running gear.  I've got gear to keep me warm while running, gear to keep me cool while running, gear to keep me dry while running, gear to keep me hydrated while running, gear to keep my hair in place while running.  Seriously.  

And, I've also got what I'd call my "practical" wardrobe.   This includes overalls and muck boots and my "paint clothes" for use during super-messy projects like painting and skinning chickens.

And, I've got my "fun clothes" -- my boho hippie-wanne-be type clothes that are basically all made of brown or grey knit that's just been sewn together in various ways.  I'd also throw my TOMS and hole-y jeans (the ones that prompted an older gentlemen I encountered in a thrift shop to offer to buy me a new pair) into this category.  

Thankfully, my sister stepped in and loaned me a few items so that I don't have to attend banking classes wearing running shorts, muck boots, or my chevron bell-bottoms.  Thanks, Jen!

Sure, there are a few items still leftover from my previous life as a teacher, but, as a result of general wear-and-tear and my changing sizes slightly and my semi-annual closet clean-outs, this section has dwindled to the point that it's difficult to even find things that fit together -- it's just the odd top and skirt that don't even really go together (maybe it's time for another closet clean-out.)  

If you're looking for the moral or lesson of this closet analysis, you'll be greatly disappointed.  I just think it's interesting that a closet tells a story -- in my case, a story of one wardrobe fading away as others take its place.  

What story would your closet tell?  

Stuffed Bell Peppers

Some dinners follow the recipe to a "T" and are the result of a plan I map out days in advance.  Then, there are meals that happen like this.

I really needed to make a run to the grocery store but didn't know how that was going to fit into my day, so I went scavenging in the freezer.  It didn't take much more than opening the door to remind me that what we had in excess was CHICKEN.  So, I grabbed a small one and allowed it to thaw awhile as I set out to see what I could do to it that would make it presentable for the dinner table.

I found a few half-used bottles of stuff in the fridge that basically approximated barbecue sauce, so I threw it in the Crock Pot, along with the breasts, legs, and thighs of the chicken.  (If you're not sure how to throw together your own BBQ mix, a good one to try is just a bottle of cheap barbecue sauce and a can of crushed pineapple.)

Okay, now I had chicken being prepared.  But, how was I going to serve it?  I had no rolls, bread, or chips in the house.  I did have some white rice.  That could work to sop up the sauce.  Rice it is!

But there's still no veggie.  What veggies have I got coming out my ears?  Peppers.  Oh, now I'm seeing this all coming together!  I'll stuff bell peppers with the rice and chicken!  That will even solve the Little-Boy + rice-for-dinner = pushed-around-all-over-the-plate-until-it-falls-into-the-floor dilemma!

So, I set the peppers upright to halve them (stems and all -- it just looks cuter-- that's important, right?) and removed seeds.  Then, I shaved just a little bit off the backs (as seen in the photo above) so that they wouldn't rock in the baking dish.  I browned them a little on all sides in a hot cast-iron skillet.  This just gives the peppers a head-start on cooking so that they're soft enough when the dish is complete.  If you'd rather, you could submerge them in boiling water for a minute or two to achieve a similar result.

Then, I stuffed the peppers with rice and shredded barbecue chicken, topped them with cheddar cheese, and cooked them in a 350 degree oven for 25-30 minutes.

I served them up with some fresh garden greens with oil, and they were delicious!  -- Not bad at all for a day that started with, "I have nothing to serve for dinner tonight!"

Go Glean!

When your tomato plants look as sad as mine do right now, and your father-in-law calls and offers you the rest of the ripe tomatoes he's got on his plants, you high-tail it up there and glean away, baby.  It doesn't matter that you're leaving town the next day and really need to pack, or that you've got a bazillion things still left on the all-important list-of-things-to-do-today, or that it's pretty much the hottest afternoon we've had all year. You drop it all, and you go.

Blinded by your own sweat, you pick about 60 pounds of ripe tomatoes. And, then, all hot and sweaty, you stop by the store for some more canning jars, mushrooms, and a bottle of wine.  And, once the kids are in bed, you bring that pot to a boil and have a spaghetti-sauce-making party with your sweetie -- skinning and coring and chopping and boiling and filling and sealing -- as you enjoy one another's company.   . . .   Or, that's what I did anyway!

Thanks, Sam!

Follow-up Friday: The Road is Complete!

The road on the new farm is complete. . .

 . . . and completely beautiful, if you ask me!  Mike Hatfield and crew did a phenomenal job, and we were so pleased to get to work with such great local people sourcing local materials.  

Once you turn off Cypress Lane, it winds around for about 1/2 mile and dead ends about 20-40 yards from where we think the house will eventually sit. 

So, we can check Step 1 off the list -- road is complete!  Now, it's on to the next couple of steps, which we'll be working on simultaneously:  have power and water run out to the house site and get some fencing and housing up for animals.  Once these are complete, we'll list the house and hope for the best.  (Know anyone who may be interested?)

We've had an initial meeting with the architects we intend to use and are so very excited to be working with them.  They really seem to have a feel for the kind of living space we hope to create.  We will meet with them (with all our ideas, Pinterest boards, and post-it-noted pages in hand) in a week or so to talk in greater detail.  I just cannot wait to see how they will combine all the elements we bring them!

Growing Lettuce in Extreme Heat

Despite countless gardening defeats this season (i.e. the wilted cucumber vine in the photo), there have been some exciting successes.  

For example,  notice the lettuce growing at left in the photo.  This particular variety, like most lettuce varieties shouldn't really be able to grow right now in this extreme heat.  But, it's going strong!  What's the secret?

The leaning vine-covered trellis on its south side provides the tender lettuce good shade during the hottest parts of the day.  

Since this pic was taken, the cucumber vine has shriveled up entirely.  I don't plan to uproot it, though, until the temperatures cool enough for the lettuce to survive without the shade that wilted vine is offering.  Talk about multi-purposing -- that cucumber vine is still working for me, long after it's produced its last fruit.

Seed Ticks Suck

Now, don't get all put off by my language in the title.  They do.  Literally.

In our backyard, the chickens do a great job of keeping ticks at bay, but the new farm is teeming with them.  So, I love the farm.  The farm is beautiful.  What is not beautiful are John's feet right now.  They are a nasty mess of seed tick bites.  (Sorry, honey, but it's true.  Normally, your feet are very attractive, of course.)

I was pretty much raised a city gal, and while I'd heard of and had a run-in or two with ticks, the first time I remember encountering a tiny seed tick was when Girl 1 was a teeny, tiny one-month-old.

We were living in New Orleans, but had made the long trek back to Arkansas to introduce our little bundle to all of her relatives who weren't able to make it to NOLA for her birth.  Here, she is pictured with MeeMee, her great-grandmother on John's side.  

Later that day, we were at John's parents' house when Amanda, my sister-in-law, came upstairs and nonchalantly asked me whether I had any tweezers.  I didn't really think much of it until I walked down the stairs and found my 1-month-old daughter naked and splayed out on the kitchen island, surrounded by 4 adults who all appeared to be performing some type of surgical procedure on her!  Apparently someone had spotted ALL the ticks, and they were trying to get them removed without causing me too much alarm.  Ahhhh!  It turned out that MeeMee had come in off the farm just before we arrived at her house to introduce her to her newest great-granddaughter.  Later that night, MeeMee discovered that she, too, had been tick bombed!  If we could magnify the picture above enough, we'd probably be able to see the little devils traveling between the two of them!

These ticks, that are in their larval stage are particularly awful because they are just hanging out there on the blade of grass en masse, waiting for something to latch onto.  Once they climb aboard, they pretty much look like dirt that is moving up your body.  They're so tiny, you have to look closer to even be able to tell what they are.  And, that's when you FREAK OUT!

So, I have some history with these crazy ticks, and John is definitely in some pain because of them right now, but I refuse to let them keep us from enjoying the farm, so I did a little research.

As for prevention, try to keep things covered up.  Tuck pants into your socks (it may not be on-trend for fall, but neither are red, itchy ankles) and spray your body with a deterrent.  If you'd rather not douse your body and clothes in products containing DEET, Mother Earth News suggests lemon eucalyptus oil, which can apparently be found in some Repel and Cutter products.

But, when you do look down and discover that your elbow has been tick bombed, don't just start swatting and scratching.  Reach, instead, for your holster and pull out your #1 weapon -- a lint roller.  Scratching and tweezing at these tiny insects will likely result in breaking off only part of the tick.  I know this is disgusting, but if that happens, it's likely that if they've latched on, the contents of their stomachs may be yucked out into your skin as the tick is torn apart.  This leads to serious itchiness and infection.

If you're already to the itchy or infected stage, try taking an oatmeal bath or treating bites with ChiggerX.  Antibiotic cream can help also prevent infection from setting in.

Anyone have any other ideas they can share for prevention or treatment of seed ticks bites?