Yes, Our Animals Have A Personal Chef.
I've been meaning to post for a long time about this wonderful thing that happened to have happened a few months ago. You see, a friend of mine is a chef--like, a REAL chef--and she's been running out of ways to make good use of the compost that comes of her beautiful meals-to-go and event catering. Several people jumped at the opportunity to help Kristen out by taking some of the leftovers for their own compost projects; and when I piped up to say that the animals at our farm would thoroughly enjoy such a healthy and tasty treat, she agreed to meet up once a week to pass along her totally fancy awesome chef scraps. Each week, my calendar reminder nags me in a most annoying way (I have issues, so I have to torture myself) to "pick up scraps", which makes me giggle. Scraps? Really? Not really. ("Extras", maybe?) So for months we've been getting fresh and locally-sourced organic carrots, carrot tops, tomatoes, potatoes, beets, yams, cabbages, greens...the list of deliciousness goes on and on. Each animal has their favorite treat, of course; and sometimes the favorites overlap, meaning we get some unavoidable squabbles of hierarchy and hard-headedness no matter how carefully this [socialist] little farmer [with her humanistic ideas of equity and fairness] divvies up the weekly loot and dispenses it to the seemingly-rabid, food-zombie quadrupeds who've been trying to knock down the barn door for minutes on end. Those types of squabbles are not out of the ordinary, as any other animal farmer will tell you, and it's very hard to master the art of not stepping in every time a pecking-order issue arises. It can be rough! I've seen new clients run up against the same challenge when they bring home their new goaties; and while we all sit there trying to set things right and stay calm and problem-solve, I'm mentally transported to the school playground where some dumb kid is being a total jerk to my bright little girl and I want to step in and be the meaner bigger dumber kid and put him/her in their place but usually manage to hold myself back because school is a critical part of social learning and all...okay, I digress. Anyway, I frequently find myself relaying that allegory (in condensed, rational form) to new clients, At Moon Ruby, we find that our sweet spoiled little chickens/goats/pig/pony/dog/cat/#whoamiforgetting all really cling to their hierarchies in any and all situations--especially when food from a local chef is involved, evidently!--and while we make sure every little being is safe, we let them work it out (and find secret shortcuts to fairness when the need arises). Sometimes Kristen even throws in a treat for us humans, and we act just like the other animals. Why did Mom get it? Hey I didn't get any of that! Who ate that piece? It's not fair! If I had horns, why I'd...and so on. The thing is, we are the other animals. We are all animals, as we all know. Word obsessor that I am ("Official Word Obsessor"?) I feel l'll forever be trying to modify my speech to account for this, although in some situations it just doesn't work. "Sure boss, you can join us, but only if the other animals can come along..." A million thanks to Kristen Joy Lyon for being so kind so as to help us out in this way. You, dear reader, are a human, and you probably have thumbs and a computer...check out Kristen's website or visit her Facebook page to learn how you can bring the human version of her creations to your own table!