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We had our Saturday all planned out. We
were getting up early, putting the sleepy kids in the truck, getting
breakfast on the way, and driving two hours north to the locker where
our 10 pigs were done being processed. My husband had mapped out the
journey to deliver all the pork to our 14 customers across 5
counties. Mother Nature sent rain, sleet, and snow.
I was driving while the kids were
sleepily eating gas station donuts washed down with juice. I
constantly caught myself checking the temperature in the rear view
mirror, above freezing. I was speeding down the highway when I heard
my 6-year old yell that his little sister was getting sick. My
husband used her blankie to mop up the mess as I continued to drive.
We had to make an unexpected stop at my
parent's house to clean up my girl. My husband went ahead to the
locker and loaded up the meat as I got the kids cleaned and settled.
We watched cartoons while the weather continued to get worse. We
watched sleet pelt the windows, and heard the thunder snow. When my
husband picked us up it was snowing heavily.
My husband maneuvered the truck through
the snow, sleet, and eventually rain as we made our way south. I
navigated and contacted our customers to give them ETAs. It was
awesome to put half a hog in our customer's freezer at our first
stop. Then the second and third deliveries, twenty minutes away. It
was so worth it to see customer's faces as they looked through their
boxes of meat, and even better to see my 4-year old shake their
hands.
It was a family affair that lasted 12
hours and over 500 miles across Iowa. This is the ultimate farm to
fork with transparency on all levels. These are the pigs that my sons
named, and the pigs that my sons helped put into freezers. Yes, they
made the connection that these were the same pigs, and it doesn't get
any more personal than that. Food should be personal without any
disconnection.
The day was made complete when I heard
my 6-year old son say, “We feed them, and they feed us.”
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