January Movie Review

Food, Inc.


A Robert Kenner film


Rating: 10
Watchability (bear with me on the term): 10
Impact: 10
Recommend It? Yes!
Watch it again: Yes!

What to expect: Food, Inc. lifts the veil on our nation's food industry, exposing how our nation's food supply is now controlled by a handful of corporations that often put profit ahead of consumer health, the livelihood of the American farmer, the safety of workers, and our own environment. Food, Inc. reveals surprising and often shocking truths about what we eat, how it's produced, and who we have become as a nation. ~ Excerpt from back cover of movie case

 My Thoughts on it: Watching Food, Inc. was a big happening for me. For about a year and a half now, I've listened to folks endlessly telling me that I HAD to watch this movie. People were saying things like, "You'll never want to eat food again!" "I almost threw up watching it!" and "You'll want to go off-grid after watching this, and grow every bit of your own food." Amid all these comments on the film, I kept on wondering in the back of my mind how it could possibly be more graphic than things I had already seen, concerning the food industry. And I've seen some pretty graphic stuff.
So upon being told that I needed to watch this, my mind was expecting a horror movie. Something so graphic and grotesque that it would send me reeling. And that, in short, is one reason why I hadn't watched it until now.

I actually watched this on Christmas Eve... Probably not the best day to do it, but we weren't celebrating Christmas Eve until the 25th this year, and I had the movie already! So I popped it in the laptop and watched it...

If I had to sum the entire movie up in one word, I would call it: Excellent.

 It was an excellent, spectacular film, and nothing what I expected. This wasn't a horror story, it was an informational documentary. I had no desire to throw up at any time while watching it, nor did I run to the kitchen when it ended, and start madly throwing all industrial foods out the window. Watching Food, Inc. was basically a recap for me. In it were things I already knew, had already seen, and was rather desensitized to. I could see though, how it could be a jolting film if you are unaccustomed to how our food system works behind the scenes. 

 I think Food, Inc. did an exceptionally good job at showing both sides of the coin as well. Another thing I had expected was it to be the whole, "Buy organic, locally grown foods, and if you don't then you're a terrible person" sort of spiel. I am 100% for organically grown, local foods, but I'm not so naive as to think that such a thing is possible for everyone at this time. But back to the movie... I liked it how they showed interviews with people who were for CAFO's (Confined Animal Feeding Operations), as well as those who were against it. Those who were for fast food restaurants, and those who are against it. The film was well balanced, and leaves the watcher to really make the end decision about things. 

 Thinking back, if there was one part of the movie that really stuck out to me, it was the part about illegal immigrants who are working in the industrial food factories. I had always known what it was like for them, and what they went through, but to actually see it was a different ball game. That hit home. 

 I definitely recommend watching this movie. This is not a horror story intended to make you feel guilty about your eating choices. It's an educational, extremely informative, accurate documentary that was filmed so that you might better understand how our nation works, how our food industry works, and how everything is ultimately intertwined by what we eat.

You can find out more about Food, Inc. by clicking HERE
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Of Songbirds and Warblers

Time for introductions.

We were blessed this Christmas with a lovely new hammered dulcimer from Songbird Dulcimers (click highlighted words to be taken to their website), so my dad and I thought we should introduce y'all to our newest addition in the musical world. :) This particular dulcimer is called the 'Warbler', and is fully chromatic, as well as handmade. 

The first video pretty much explains what needs to be explained, so I'll leave you now to enjoy watching them!

Hehe, and now y'all know my name: Caitlyn. ;) I don't think I've ever given my name on here, so there you have it!

Does anyone else here play the hammered dulcimer?

Want To Know Something?

At this time, on this day, in exactly one week, I will be pulling into the driveway of Polyface Farms.

The sun will be setting on the Salatin's home place; only a few streaks of finger paint will be lingering in the sky, as we drive up. Before dusk engulfs the entire place.

That's gonna' be torture. I'll have to wait until the next morning before I can really see the place!! 

I am beyond excited for this trip. Excited to work, excited to meet Joel and his family, excited to stay with my Aunt and Uncle in MD for the rest of the week, and just plain excited! 

The Equines Have Landed

Two of them, to be exact. They're quite small though. Much too small to be ridden, as they stand at a petite 2 hands high (1 "hand" = 4"). These two stable buddies are about to be sent off to Kentucky, but I thought I might first share some pictures of my latest creations. :)

The flashy black and white is a Tennessee Walking Horse named 'Spirit'...

And the sorrel is a handsome Quarter Horse who goes by the handle of 'Montoya'...

I have to admit that I'm a little pleased with how these two turned out. Spirit especially. These were both custom orders, and I had to use some pictures as my guide to their colors, markings and build. 

Now, back to making goats! LOL. 

Led By A Goat, Part 2

 Having paid for what was now my goat, we worked quickly to load her into the bed of our red pickup truck. With most goats, once you get their front half up there, the rest follows. Not so with this girl. She fought us with whatever strength she still had; blowing and snorting loudly. Her eyes flashing anger and fear. Finally, the man went back into the decrepit barn and brought out a bucket of grain. I watched silently as the poor goat zeroed her gaze on that bucket, and with no help at all she scrambled into the truck bed; eating as if it was her last meal. Just before climbing into the truck to leave, I turned and asked the man if she had a name. He was silent for a moment, as if trying to remember if she did or not. Then he looked at me and said, “Tina. Her name is Tina.” And with that, we parted. He with one hundred dollars in his pocket, and I with a bedraggled caprine named Tina.


The ride home was fairly quiet. Tina seemed too busy trying to stay upright, than to be voicing her opinions on being shanghaied. Forty minutes later, we pulled up to the barn. My barn is certainly nothing fancy, what with its metal walls and roof. Not to mention it leaks on the left side and floods on the right. But it was good enough for me, my goats, and my rogue Jersey calf whose name was Poppy. I opened the main door and hollered to my goats whom I affectionately call “the girls”. “Girls! I have someone new for you to meet!” At that time, there were only two other does: Capri, an Oberhasli/Nubian cross who was my star milker, and Ivy the purebred, registered Nubian. Capri was the color of rich chestnut, with ebony accenting her legs, face and spine. In the sunlight her coat shimmered and rippled like rays of light dancing upon a brook. She was my sweetheart, with her placid temperament and perfect manners. Milking over one gallon a day also helped increase my appreciation for her. Ivy was still a gangly yearling, but managing to put ¾ of a gallon into the pail each day. Her strawberry roan color clashed somewhat with her two buff hued “badger stripes” on her face, but I didn’t mind too much. Her fancy pedigree and potential as a show goat were enough for me.

As I walked in the barn with Tina bucking and thrashing at the end of my lead rope, it hit me, just what a stark comparison there was between her and my two other does. Capri and Ivy were plump, sleek, elegant, and had their own unique style about them. Tina looked like a crow among the swallows; a dandelion with the roses. A Volkswagen Beetle next to a BMW. She was as out of place as a draft horse at a race track. Capri, Ivy, and Poppy pushed against the flimsy wire fencing that created their pen inside the barn, trying to get closer to the newcomer who was infiltrating their home. Getting Tina inside the pen proved to be a challenge on its own. With the two milkers trying to nose the gate out of my hands so they could escape, Tina still plunging to get away, and the cow bellowing for her evening bottle of milk, the moment was anything but reflective and calm. But somehow, in a moment of supernatural strength, I managed to charge through the little gate, drag Tina with me, and keep Capri and Ivy within the fenced premises. HA! Victory is mine, you mischievous fiends! I barked at Poppy to be quiet, who then slunk into a corner and batted her big doe eyes at me. I untied the rope that was still anchoring Tina to me, and anxiously wondered what this wild gal would do now that she had her freedom. Her first move was to get as far away from me as possible. I could see her indecision as she tried to decide if she should run to the farthest part of the pasture, or stay inside and eat hay. She chose the latter, and began stuffing her face; eyeing me warily the whole time.

Family members came out to the barn, excited to see the new addition to the herd. They came in with smiles and questions, but stopped short in steps and words when they saw my miscreant. “You paid how much for that thing?” They all asked. Other comments floated around as they each came and went. “That is the ugliest goat I have ever seen.” You’re actually going to keep her?” “She’s so thin, why did you even bother with her?” On and on the opinions came; like torrents of water, they eddied and swirled around me and Tina. I was a little sheepish at this point; slightly regretting my purchase and wondering if I had been too rash in my actions. But it was too late now. I had to make the best of the situation I was now in. I looked Tina up and down, trying to figure out what I should do first about her looks and state. Perhaps I’m a vain person, but one thing that was really bothering me about her was her six inch long beard that she was sporting. Something in me just doesn’t like beards on my does! It almost seemed to be throwing the symmetry of her face off, seeing as it was so long but her ears were so short. In the end, I let the beard stay as it was for the time being. She had been stressed enough already; there was no need to overdo things.

 But there was one thing that I DID want to do before the night was over. She needed a different name. The name Tina really didn’t seem to fit her, and it harbored memories of her past in those two syllables. What we needed was a new name for a new start here in her new home. We needed to start completely over. Unfortunately, when it comes to names, I tend to get so overwhelmed in the process, that it takes forever to make a decision. Should I name her Pfeffernusse? Snow White? Lily? Greta?

Like I said, I’m bad at names. One name, however, kept on coming back to me: Heidi. She reminded me so much of the Saanen goats in that Classic tale, “Heidi”. I figured Heidi was better than Pfeffernusse (which is a kind of cookie, by the way), so it stuck.

Heidi had landed at Goat Song Farm. What had I done? And what would become of this adventure?

This is yet another excerpt from my growing story. :) This chapter is perhaps not as good as the first, but it's serving as the bridge into the rest of the story. It gets better. ;)

Playin' Hooky Today

Hey guys; just wanted to let y'all know that I'm playin' hooky today, so there won't be any earth shattering posts written on here until tomorrow or Wednesday. It seems I caught some strange bug, and all my body wants to do today is sleeeeeeeeep. I actually just woke up from a five hour nap, and thought I should give y'all a heads up here. Between shaky knees, lightheadedness, and a fuzzy feeling brain, I don't think I could come up with anything good to say today anyway. :-/

 Would anyone on here be interested in hearing more of tale I wrote yesterday? If y'all wanted to hear more of Heidi's story, I could keep on writing excerpts of it. :) Or I could just keep it all under blankets as a surprise... Hehe.

 Okay, I'm off to go sit down somewhere before I fall down.... Oy. I despise being sick...

Excerpt

 It was something in her eyes… Resentment, bitterness, pride, fear, pain… As if she had irreversibly locked the tumbler to her soul, she stood there: staring scornfully. Not caring about anything anymore. I was looking at the forsaken shape of a white goat, that chilly winter day. The sky was blanketed with gray clouds that looked like damp wool, and a soft mist hung in the mountains. I had come to this dilapidated farm to be shown what I was told to be a Saanen doe, and it appeared that I was looking at her. Her fur coat was a shaggy, three inches long, but even that couldn’t hide her bones jutting sharply from her gaunt hide. To my sorrow, I learned that this destitute creature was heavily pregnant and due to kid in less than two months. She looked hardly capable of surviving, let alone being pregnant. Her eight month old buckling came trotting up to her and began nursing eagerly. Poor girl, I thought, she’s practically being eaten alive as this buckling, and the kids in her womb steal her preciously scarce nutrients.

My heart went out to this horridly ugly excuse for a goat, and I gently reached out to stroke her. She looked at my outstretched hand and hurriedly moved out of my reach. Despite her impoverished condition, her eyes still glowed with feeling. I saw hatred smoldering like embers in her expressive face. Though she stood in a quagmire of filth and was disgraceful to look at, she stood with her head held high. Like a princess locked in a concentration camp, she knew in her heart that she was more than her prison mates. Trying to not let my emotions get the better of me, I rationalized buying such a creature. It was possible that she could die during labor, due to her critical state. Or she might not be a good milker, which is what I was looking to buy. I was on the hunt for a purebred, preferably registered milking goat, and here I was staring at a neglect case. This goat was by no means purebred, either. She had the build and look of a Saanen, but her ears were a dead giveaway to her other lineage: They were only one inch long. Those ridiculous looking ears screamed La Mancha blood, so I could only presume she was a Saanen/ La Mancha cross.

But her eyes haunted me… Where had I seen something like that before? As if groping for a forgotten history, my mind searched for an answer to this riddle.

Meanwhile, the owner watched my silence and took it for hesitance in buying her. He reassured me that it didn’t matter if I bought her or not. If I didn’t, his hunting buddy would come over the next day and just turn her into sausage. It didn’t matter to him; it was just a goat.

I looked at the wretched creature before me, again, and I thought about the $100 in my pocket. She was too proud, it seemed to me, to be turned into sausage. Not to mention her unborn kids would be killed as well. I sighed, and handed over one hundred dollars. Not only did I want to see what was behind her layer of filth, but something in me also wanted -- or maybe needed -- to figure out where I had seen such a haunted look before. Why did her eyes seem like such a familiar memory in the back of my mind?

This small blurb is from something I've been working on over the past week. Just thought I'd share, and ask y'all for some feedback. :)