Our goal at McClary Hill Farm is to provide a model for homestead farming while supplying our customers with fresh, naturally-raised meats, dairy, poultry, eggs, fruits, vegetables and honey. To this end, we give our animals free choice access to the outdoors and fresh pasture from spring to fall.  In the wintertime, our remaining animals eat locally grown hay supplemented with organic grains, kelp and sea minerals.  Our vegetables and fruits are fertilized with the collected manures from our animals.

We recommend that you visit McClary Hill Farm. We're about twenty minutes east of Concord, New Hampshire, near the Deerfield and Northwood town lines. You should know who we are and how we do things, so you feel good about being a part of our food community.

Scroll down, below the fold, as they say in the newspaper world, the new stuff is there!

 

By way of credit due, a good deal of the existing content of this site was put together by Barbara Stewart.  Changes are coming... stay tuned.

 




What's New

And the snow came.

With apologies to my skiing friends, I haven’t missed snow.  We had the Halloween storm, but since then there has been a general lack of winter, let alone snow.

There's a cow and a doorbell under that whiteness.

Yesterday, we got 4 inches… enough to grease the roads and make dragging the cart to the barn a minor challenge.

I can’t complain.  We’re at the midway point of the snowiest part of the year, the sun has bounced off the lowest point in its annual circuit, I’ve got enough hay to feed the animals until grass comes back,  and enough wood to keep us all warm until spring.

Time to finish the taxes and pull out the seed catalogs.

 

 

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Oh, and by the way….

Photo Credits… photo credits… Alice took the picture that appears on the This I Believe Website!  It’s a good shot of the Woozeling Moo! :P

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This I Believe

In 2006 I wrote an essay for the Public Radio International (PRI) show, This I Believe. Five years passed and I had forgotten about the essay.  I had thought it pretty good, but recognized that they must get loads of good stuff submitted, and chalked it up to experience.

At the end of 2011 I got a call from John Gregory the producer of the show telling me he had found my essay in the archive.  This should qualify John for a nomination for the radio equivalent of excellence in investigative journalism. He had to dig deep to find that essay.

The end of the story is that I got to record the essay at NHPR in Concord NH.  With Alice’s wordsmithing,  John’s guidance and editing and Andrew Parrella’s expertise in the NHPR studio, we came up with a recording of the piece.  It will air on the Bob Edwards show this weekend, January 13 and 14.  It can also be accessed via the link below.

(http://thisibelieve.org/essay/10761/)

Should you listen, I hope you enjoy it.

 

 

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It’s been a while…

Update.

Mini the Woozeling Moo, The Lady Woo, the widdle cow is doing fine.  She gimps around on three feet, but she gets where she wants to go. She is now living full-time with the big cows and appears to have been accepted by her mother. Mini is a happy little cow.  I continue to be amazed that she has made it this far. I’m beginning to see parallels between that cow and my farm.

The Woo moved to the pasture when her brother, Mojo the pig, went off to be stud pig at a farm in Wolfeboro.  I worried, as I watched Mojo ride away in the back of a pickup truck, that Mini might get depressed without her pig-pal.  I mean, they’ve been together practically since birth.  But cows can be a bit hard to read and I haven’t seen any real change in Mini’s behavior.

My favorite memory of these two is watching them run ahead of me as I went to the barn in the morning.  The routine for the morning was to go to the greenhouse and open the door.  You see, as Most-Important-Animals-On-the-Farm, Mini and Mojo slept overnight together in a hay-filled corner of the greenhouse. When the door slid open Mojo would grunt happily and bound out of the greenhouse knowing that food was in the offing.  Mini would gradually, with a good deal of encouragement, drag herself out into the morning.  I would load up the wheelbarrow and head for the barn and the two would wobble and hobby horse their way along.  After chores, the two would stay in the pasture near where the cows were eating their hay.  At around 3:00, when the sun would start to go down, Mojo would nudge Mini into action and the two would return to the greenhouse together.  Sometimes I would see them coming across the road and other times I would just find them in a little mammalian pile in their hay bed in the greenhouse.

These two are a very special pair of animals.  It will be interesting to see if they recognize each other when Mojo comes back.

Other news…

The house heating system, a wood fired gasifying furnace attached to a 3000 gallon tank of water, had been operating flawlessly since the beginning of the winter.  In the category of “famous last words”, I had even gone so far as to say that the system was, possibly, the best thing I had ever done.  Hmmm.  As if on cue, this past Sunday, I noticed a drop in the temperature of the water coming into the house and went to check the furnace.  It was happily chugging away making hot water.  Then I went to check the connections to the water tank… all’s well there. Then I went to the tank and noticed that my water level indicator was missing.  It had been there a week ago, when I noticed that the water level was down an inch or so.  This was pretty typical of the evaporative loss that I had seen for the past year.  I took the cap off the tank and poked a broom handle into the hole.  I swirled the handle around in the opening feeling for the resistance of water.  Lower and lower went the handle without feeling any water. Four feet down I felt nothing.  The handle was dry.  To shorten the story, the tank was empty.  EMPTY!  3000 gallons gone.

Given the precarious financial condition of my operation, the general lack of time due to renovation and expansion projects and the onrushing demand of the coming spring, this was not good.

I was greatly discouraged.

Yesterday I spent the day tearing the deck off the tank, removing insulation and copper coils in order to get at the liner.  I did find a strange hole in one of the corners, how it got there is a mystery.  It would it appear to have been enough to cause the tank to drain.

Today brings other tasks.  I’ll need to let you know about the result.

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Mandrake Root

Kinda creepy!

 

In fact, it’s horseradish. I decided to dig out a couple of roots before the ground freezes tight.

And a handful of tomatoes from the greenhouse. I find it funny how little interest I have in a tomato this time of year, but it was nice to make a pizza with fresh sliced brandywines.

 

The gift from a warm November.

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Babe and the 8 Point Buck

Here’s a link to Alice’s most recent NHPR essay… she’s going native!

http://www.nhpr.org/post/different-look-what-it-means-be-new-hampshire-native

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“Yu, u, nobuntu.”

A couple of thoughts to ponder, one from South Africa and originally in the Bantu language and the other from a time not too different from our own.

“Yu, u, nobuntu.”

Translated by Leymah Roberta Gbowee to mean,

“I am what I am because of who we are.”

 

“It is all-essential to the continuance of our healthy national life that Republicans should recognize this community of interest among our people. The welfare of each of us is dependent fundamentally upon the welfare of all of us….”

Theodore Roosevelt, 1903.

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The More E.B. White I Read, the More I Like Him.

This from January 25, 1936.

1936!

“The Plant-Patent Business is taking right hold, apparently.  We know a man who received a birthday present of a nice little azalea.  Tied around the azalea’s stem, like a chastity belt, was a metal tag from Bobbink & Atkins, reading, “Asexual reproduction of this plant is illegal under the Plant Patent Act.” It was Number 147.  Our friend, a man of loose personal habits, ripped the tag off angrily, fed it to his dachshund puppy, and sent the plant to a friend in Connecticut with instructions to bed it down warmly next to an old buck hydrangea.”

I can’t think of a more civil example of civil disobedience.

E.B., while maybe a little unclear on the distinction between sexual and asexual reproduction, knew something was coming and that it just-wasn’t-right.

Genetically engineered plants and seeds — today’s equivalent of the “patented” plants of E.B.’s time — are clever. It takes a special thought process to think of splicing fish DNA into a strawberry plant in order that the fish’s  naturally occuring antifreeze might offer protection against frost to the plant.  I wonder what E.B.’s friend of loose personal habits would have thought had he been instructed to plant the strawberry next to an aquarium in hopes that something squishy might happen with the resident arctic char.

Why do we need to engineer plants? What good comes from interspecies transfer of genetic material? What I’m talking about doesn’t happen in nature and has nothing to do with hybridization or Gregor Mendel. In the final analysis, most of us would, if we were thinking about it, get worn out by the mental gymnastics required to think this is a good idea.

If we examine our needs, we may discover we really have a list of wants.  Genetic manipulators might think it neat, and it is clever, and profitable, to have a frost resistant strawberry, but do we really need a strawberry when it frosts? Or might that be a “want?” I’m suspecting that a strawberry that won’t freeze will likely taste like a tomato that comes in a cellophane wrapper in December. In December I enjoy the thought of an August tomato far more than the ingestion of a pinkish imposter from the store shelf.

I save seeds.   I think it is important. I avoid GMO’s (genetically modified organisms) and defend the efficiency of organic principles and the role farmers can play in the creation of stronger communities. I am tempted to join the protesters on Wall St., not because I think rich people are bad. No, nor do I think the protesters are moochers looking for a handout. Unfortunately some of the priorities in our society are unsustainable. The consolidation of power, wealth and influence into fewer and fewer hands is one example. And unfortunately, genetic engineering has the potential to further concentrate food production into fewer and fewer hands as well.  By now the tales of Monsanto suing farmers for seeds that have been contaminated with patented plant pollen are well known.  When food engineers in white coats control all of our seeds we will be, quite simply, in trouble and possibly hungry.

Plants need to be open source. People must have the ability to feed themselves should they choose to do so. It is one thing to voluntarily pay a provider for the service of growing, harvesting and distributing  seeds or for the growing and processing of food, but it is another to be mandated, through the elimination of options, to pay for artificially created forms of life.

I think E.B., writing from his salt marsh farm in Maine, would have been greatly concerned about how far we have come since 1936.

 

P.S. Here’s an article, not sure about the source, but the content seems fairly straight forward about a legal case re: Monsanto and canola (rapeseed).

http://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2011/12/06/percy-schmeiser-farmer-who-beat-monsanto.aspx?e_cid=20111130_DNL_art_A4

 

Below is a statement developed in 1998 by a group of scientists in the early days of genetic engineering. I wonder what happened?

The Wingspread Consensus Statement on the Precautionary Principle, 1998
The release and use of toxic substances, the exploitation of resources, and physical alterations of the environment have had substantial unintended consequences affecting human health and the environment. Some of these concerns are high rates of learning deficiencies, asthma, cancer, birth defects and species extinctions; along with global climate change, stratospheric ozone depletion and worldwide contamination with toxic substances and nuclear materials.

We believe existing environmental regulations and other decisions, particularly those based on risk assessment, have failed to protect adequately human health and the environment – the larger system of which humans are but a part.

We believe there is compelling evidence that damage to humans and the worldwide environment is of such magnitude and seriousness that new principles for conducting human activities are necessary.

While we realize that human activities may involve hazards, people must proceed more carefully than has been the case in recent history. Corporations, government entities, organizations, communities, scientists and other individuals must adopt a precautionary approach to all human endeavors.

Therefore, it is necessary to implement the Precautionary Principle: When an activity raises threats of harm to human health or the environment, precautionary measures should be taken even if some cause and effect relationships are not fully established scientifically.

In this context the proponent of an activity, rather than the public, should bear the burden of proof.

 

The process of applying the Precautionary Principle must be open, informed and democratic and must include potentially affected parties. It must also involve an examination of the full range of alternatives, including no action.

 

 

 

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Circles

Looked into the yard today and spied three unusual circles.  The circles were arrayed neatly in a triangular pattern.  They were perfectly round, like the impression left by the feet of some heavy object. What could it be? What force of nature, earthly or … unearthly, could leave such marks? Who would know how this came to be?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mojo knows!

 

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November

I opened the door this morning and November stormed in.

It had not been obvious that she was even around,

until now.

A week ago, her younger sister, October,

had played older-colder-dress-up

for Hallowe’en.

Gave me a start,

but her rustling russet leaves peeking from under,

gave her away.

And when her cloak melted,

 November riled up a wind swirling her to the sky.

October was gone.

“Good riddance,” she says huffing to the kitchen for the kettle.

“Too pretty, all gold and garnet and garish last gasp green.

And just not serious enough.”

Dropping her chin to level a look

over her quickly cooling cup she smiled,

“Now we get serious.”

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