4.9.09
James Family Farm Spring 2009
Greetings from the farm! This newsletter greets you with the hope that your winter was peaceful and warm. I have spent the winter watching the headlines roll in like thunderclouds before a spring storm. The failure of our economy has been likened to watching a train wreck in slow motion and that is truly what it has been like.
Many experts are predicting a “buy local” phenomenon as one outcome of our train wreck economy. Why buy local food? Why indeed. Let’s take a look at our chicken sales, after all, we are sending you this newsletter to inform you that it is chicken ordering time again. Let’s see how your buying a local chicken applies here:
1. You reserve your chickens and we buy chicks from a small, family owned hatchery here in the Midwest.
2. We raise your birds here on our pastures, eating grain grown from a local farmer.
3. The grain is stored at a grain co-op five miles down the road. The grain co-op employs four local people.
4. When we process our birds, we process at another family owned and run processing facility in Arthur, Il. That facility employs as many as 20 local people throughout the chicken season.
5. We buy all of our waterers and feed troughs, supplies for pens and tarps at a local farm store that employs as many as 40 local folks.
6. Income generated from our chicken sales stays right here, in our community at small, locally owned businesses.
The source of all of that revenue is kept within a 70 mile radius. Now, what’s in it for you other than a pat on the back for helping your local economy?
1. Food security: In an age where you can’t even trust peanut butter, food security and safety has got to be at the top of the list. Your chicken is one of hundreds, not tens of thousands.
2. Environment: You are choosing to not pollute the earth in several ways: One, your bird is not trucked from Arkansas, Oklahoma or New Mexico to your supermarket in Springfield- no emissions there. Second, the few birds that we raise on our pastures do not create waste that needs to be buried or burned, they create waste that is applied directly to our ground and used as a fertilizer. It will never pollute groundwater or threaten the life of our streams and rivers.
3. Nutrition: Birds raised on fresh, green growing grasses, sunshine, bugs, non-medicated feeds and feeds without animals byproducts are going to be healthier birds. In contrast, birds raised in confinement, will never see the sunshine and will never move more than a few inches one direction or another. They are fed a maintenance antibiotic and are fed continuously through a piped feed system so that they grow faster.
4. Taste: Ultimately, it comes down to taste. There is not a bird in the supermarket that can possibly taste as good as a true farm raised chicken.
So, why buy local- Because it makes good sense. In a mixed up, topsy-turvy “That don’t make no sense” world, buying local just makes sense- for everybody!
Thanks for your support!
Chicken Order Form 2009
Last year, chicken prices were at 3.75/ lb, which reflected the high cost of feed and fuel. This year, we are able to offer chickens at a lower price as those feed costs have come down! We are also cutting down to only two batches of birds. Some of you have noticed that our first batch of birds is later than usual. We are hoping to cut down on electricity usage in the brooder. That being said, we will also offer quantity discounts to help those feed larger families in these tight times.
Chicken Prices 2009
0-10 Birds ………………….3.25/lb
10-20 Birds………………..3.00/lb
20+………………….2.75/lb
Ordering dates and deadlines:
Batch 1: Order by April 20 to reserve your birds for pick up June 26 and 27.
Batch 2: Order by June 1 to reserve your birds for pick up August 7 & 8.
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Please specify preference:
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Batch 1
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Batch 2
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Total
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Whole:
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Halved:
.50/bird cutting charge
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Cut Up:
.50/bird cutting charge
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You can order simply by returning an email or calling the farm. Chicken pick up will be on the dates specified above. If you are unable to make it on those dates, it is up to you to arrange for somebody else to pick up your birds. We cannot store birds or hold them past Saturday at 5pm.
*****Get your order in early as we are limited to the number of birds that we are able to run on our farm.
If you have any questions, please feel free to call or email me at the address listed below. Thanks and I look forward to seeing you again!
Andrea James
Jamesfamilyfarm.com
217-496-2160
Jamesfamilyx6@gmail.com
2.16.09
“Wouldn’t it be fun to sit on the moon Momma?”
“What would we do if we could sit on the moon?” I ask.
“We would dangle our feet in the clouds.”
I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. We were lying side by side near the woodstove, dinner was cooking in the oven, and life was perfect at that moment. I could hear Sera’s breath near my ear;
she was sucking her fingers and rubbing her cold, bare feet rhythmically over the rug.
It's Sunday afternoon, the sun is shining on the cold earth. The white cotton clouds are racing each other across a sky laced with hues of blue and gray. We are warm and drowsy. Soon we will have to turn on our other side so that we don’t get to hot.
Robins returned this past week to our wet, muddy fields. The cows walked slowly with their heavy black boots on, but the birds were oblivious to the discomfort of those heavy animals as they skipped and hopped, intently listening for the smallest of sounds; some minute movement beneath their tiny feet that might signal a meal.
I am often impatient this time of year. I always think that it should be warmer. I will leave the coveralls in the house and then curse myself when my legs and feet are shaky and numb. Spring isn’t really around the corner, not yet, and I’m not rushing it.
I open my eyes and know that time is passing, just like the clouds rushing by in the wide sky, time is passing and sometimes it’s nice just to sit and dangle your feet in the clouds.
Andrea J.
1.10.09
Freedom
It was after milking one morning when the grass was tall and the wind was blowing hot that my oldest son came into the barn where I was standing with his hands held out. He had a grin on his face that reached from ear to ear.
“Come look,” he beckoned.
As I neared, I could see two very tiny ears jutting out from his closed palms; a wild baby rabbit, terrified and quivering. He had caught that little creature out where he had been mowing and was quite pleased with his catch.
The rabbit, on the other hand, perhaps was not quite so happy when he found himself in a rabbit hutch; the center of much fanfare and boasting. That bunny grew up in that hutch and one night here a few months ago, I left the door open one night after watering him and the next morning, he was gone.
It broke my son’s heart that the bunny was gone. I tried to explain that perhaps it had never really been his, that freedom is a precious thing, even to something as small as a rabbit.
Freedom is indeed a precious thing. I think of that bunny every time I walk by that empty cage. I am not sorry that I left the door open, not really.
There are bunnies that belong in that hutch, bunnies that need to be fed and watered daily; Bunnies that wouldn’t ever jump out of the hutch no matter how long the door was left open. We have two of those bunnies in the hutch next to the one that now stands empty. To those bunnies, the human hand that reaches in with food, water and the occasional pat is tolerable and comforting. Those hands have always been there caring for and looking after the needs of those that live in the hutch. It would never occur to those bunnies to leave the safety of the hutch to explore the barn floor around them.
Freedom is indeed a precious thing. It is a fragile idea; one person’s freedom is another’s discomfort. It seems that we, as American’s, are like the wild bunny in my son’s hands. We are moving toward the safety of a hutch were we will be fed and cared for and kept safe from all harm. A place where all of our basic needs will be met; we will be warm and dry, sheltered from the storms outside; we will not starve nor want for anything, except our freedom.
Bit by bit and piece by piece, our freedom is being taken away. Of course it is in our “best interest”. We are being kept “safe from harm”.
I am trembling inside. I fear a future of no choice. Everyday it seems more laws are passed to limit our freedom and everyday, folks just sit back and allow it. We are moving ever closer to the proverbial rabbit hutch and nobody seems to notice or care.
Ludicrous laws that don’t even allow folks to sell their children’s used clothes for fear of lead? Fear of LEAD? If this was such an issue, perhaps the manufacturers shouldn’t have put the deadly heavy metal into the children’s items to begin with. That would seem to make more sense than putting Goodwill out of business and filling up our landfills with perfectly useful items.
Last month a family in Ohio was held at gunpoint by a SWAT team on the tip that they were selling raw milk. Now there is a good use of our taxpayer dollars. Keeping American’s safe from what? How are these people such a threat that they warrant a SWAT team and federal agents that came to raid their house?
Where are we going here? Is anybody listening? Are we so busy with our mean little lives that our we don’t even notice that our greatest gift is being held at gunpoint by a handful of wolves in sheep’s clothing. Our country was founded on the idea of freedom. Businesses were born, businesses failed. Yes indeed, they failed if they did not change with times, if they were not run efficiently, if they did not manage their money wisely, if they made bad decisions, they failed. Simple. Another business would take its place and the cycle would begin again.
Work hard and you can get somewhere in life. You can be somebody in America. Predatory lenders prayed on people’s dreams and those folks are living on the street or in low rent houses and those lenders are being rewarded with more money to lend. Life savings swept away with a few strokes of a pen. Never mind, we will take care of you, just follow the yellow line, yes, that’s the one, right behind all those other people.
I am a simple person. I have always trusted that good trumps evil and the right will eventually prevail over wrong. I have prayed for those in power to be strong and make decisions that will continue to allow our citizens’ peace, freedom and the ability work hard and reap the reward.
I tremble now. We are almost in the hutch and the door will be closing soon. Will everything that our men and women fought for be lost, given away willingly with our eyes wide open? Will we choose the hutch, or will we choose the freedom? What will you fight for?
Andrea J. Choosing Freedom
1.3.09
Happy New Year
As quiet as fog, the New Year arrived here on the farm. There was no fanfare, no ball drop, no shotguns or fireworks; Nothing but the simple act of taking down the old calendar and replacing it with the new. The creatures of the barn knew nothing of the silent change that took place. Bedded down head to tail they snuggled in comfort as busy field mice families came alive with the darkness to scavenge the barn floor for crumbs of feed and leftover morsels that are often left in the wake of “those who walk on two legs”.
The house people bedded down early, a mid- week chance to catch up on sleep. Coal’s from last night’s fire glow softly in this quiet, early morning of my day. They wait for the breath of new life; dry kindling, more wood and a gentle, blowing breath from some boy kneeling intently toward them, hoping, as he shivers in the morning cold, that it will only take this one time to rekindle last night’s orange and red fiery dance.
Windows rattle as they are buffeted by sharp blasts of a January gale. In my favorite chair, wrapped in blankets, I am listening to the wind, sipping tea and watching the blinking cursor move down the rows as my fingers search across the keyboard. Dough is rising in the warm oven, cinnamon buns to start the year off right. Today is the first day of the New Year, a clean slate, another chance. So many possibilities, so much hope, so much to strive for and look forward to.
There are a few goals on the eternal list this year. Farm goals, family goals, personal goals, all merge into one idea, one common thread, that blankets us all as we move into the this first day of our three hundred and sixty-five day cycle.
1. Sustainability: Increase sustainability. Move our thoughts, actions, lifestyle and farm into an ever increasing self sustaining entity. This will allow each of us to live ever lighter upon the land and to continue to move beyond dependency on an increasingly unstable system.
2. No more “New”: This has been our motto now for two years. With the exception of boots and jeans for hard working young men, we strive not to bring anything into our home that has the potential to end up in a land fill. This includes electronics, toys and nonsense items found in almost any aisle of Walmart.
3. Health: Our health is our number one investment. We will continue to increase our knowledge of healthy eating and living and adjust accordingly.
4. Relationships: Beyond health, our relationships with each other, our friends, our community and God need constant care and attention. As always, we will strive to respect and understand the needs of those around us.
5. Preparedness: This was added to our list last year and we weren’t really sure exactly what all it entailed. This year, we will continue to work toward being more “prepared.” For any event- fire, tornado, flood, blizzard or ice storm, family emergency etc. We have put away extra food and added a well stocked medical emergency kit with an easy to follow Red Cross First Aid book.
Perhaps, as a people, we will start to turn inward. Dismal economic times have always given people a reason to pause and reaffirm the tenets of their faith, their values, their attitudes and behaviors. True wealth is not acquired in a paycheck and we cannot take our diamonds with us when our last breath has been expelled.
As I sit here this morning in the quiet of a New Year, it my most fervent hope that this upcoming year bring inner peace, joy in the small things, hope for a brighter future, belief that we can change, the comfort of love and genuine forgiveness.
God Bless,
Andrea J.
12.26.08
Dinosaurs
There is a dinosaur in my closet. Rummaging around for some lost object, I heard the distinct rumblings of a dinosaur. There are several lurking around my basement; their footprints are seen only by me. I thought that I had banished all my dinosaurs, but it seems that they either didn’t leave or I have acquired some new ones. I would bet on the latter.
You see, it was only just a few years ago that I cleaned out all the dinosaurs that had been hanging around and now, it seems that some have returned. I know, because I have heard them, and now, as the old year comes to a close and the new one offers its endless possibilities, dinosaurs that we have collected and brought home must once again be banished in order that we may all sleep a little lighter and live a little freer.
Dinosaurs were thought to be extinct, but I have found that to be untrue; each thing that I hang onto or drag home is like an egg; a dinosaur egg. I bring it home, happy with my purchase, my treasure, my find, and then a dinosaur hatches. Small at first, they tend to grow very large, some of them can occupy huge areas of one’s mind, nibbling at thoughts and drinking energy tea, meant for us, but snatched up by the greedy mouth of a hatchling dino.
Crazy, I know, but the older I get, the more sense I have that they have returned and I must chastise myself and my family for bringing them home. Dinosaurs include things from the past and things from the here and now; things like clothes or shoes that one of us just “had to have,” that now sit with dust on the shoulders, unworn and unwanted, toys that were bought with the best of intentions that sit in boxes or baskets, under stairs and in closets, dishes and plates and knick knacks and brick-a-brack.
Pretty soon the closet becomes a scary place where only Mom can go. Whole rooms can be taken over as the dinosaurs multiply and grow. Kids no longer play in their rooms as they have been pushed out by their own creations. Kitchen cabinets, cupboards and drawers become hatcheries until the drawers won’t close and every search in the spice cabinet becomes nothing less than a search for the missing arc.
Dinosaurs have no mercy, pushed to extinction by rapid climate change, they are happy to be given footholds in our homes and in our minds. Monsters that I had dragged around since college and before marriage and kids jeered at me from behind boxes until I finally found the courage to expose them, sweep them out into the light of day and rid my mind and my home of their ever bearing presence.
I have found that it is not possible to move forward with these heavy beasts on my back. I have found that my mind gets stuck in the mire and muck and there it stays until little by little I am able to sort and pitch, give away and sell until finally the room, the closets, the cabinets and drawers are free.
It sounds so simple, but it takes a tremendous amount of energy to reclaim those spaces in my home and in my mind. They didn’t hatch over night, they took time to grow and multiply, divide and conquer. But, there is no better time than the New Year. I have already started. Freecycle, Ebay, Craig’s List are often in my inbox. Boxes and toys, furniture and other things are going out.
I am lighter already. Perhaps I won’t be alone in my defiance; Maybe, as a people, we will keep our pocket books snapped shut as we head into this New Year. We will clean out our closets and garages and reclaim our minds from the insane amount of stuff that we have drug home over the years of overindulgence and overspending.
Perhaps we will see that we already have what we need to simplify, no experts are necessary here. The path is now brightly lit. Some will surely call the times ahead a depression, but maybe in the light of the New Year, we might see it as an “opportunity”; an opportunity to rid ourselves of the dinosaurs that are lurking in our homes, our minds and our hearts.
Happy New Year!
Andrea J.
12.9.08
Christmas
Moonlight from the window woke me, it was half past three. I tightened down my eyelids and tried to will myself back into peaceful slumber. But peaceful slumber was out chasing the moonlight, playing with the sandman, and I was left to lie in my bed and hope that he might return before the moon completed its evening journey across the night sky.
It wasn’t meant to be, and my mind, happily began to grind into action. I tried to wrench a stick into its gears before it got too powered up and woke the rest of my body. It seemed to be working, I felt it all slowing back down when the thought slammed my entire being wide awake: “There are only 16 shopping days til Christmas!”
“What!!??”
I knew my fight was over, it was almost four. I glanced over at the sleeping form of my husband. I could see that this realization had not affected him in the least. Peaceful slumber was still holding him tight. “Shopping days” had never been in his life before, and it obviously hadn’t crept in this year.
Ok, Ok, I reluctantly sat up, my feet feeling for my waiting slippers; cold slapped my bed warm form as I fumbled my way down the stairs. Sure enough, the calendar confirmed it- 16 shopping days til Christmas. I rubbed my eyes and turned on the tea water.
Sitting there, in the half dark, listening to the kettle warming on the stove, I wondered what I was going to do this year. The last several years had been a gradual reduction in presents. This was due in large part because we had slowly come to realize that we were drowning in stuff. We have never bought for each other, just the kids, but that alone left enough waste to fill several large garbage bags just from the wrapping paper and the packaging.
By the time my children were 9, 7, and 4, they could tear through the most carefully wrapped packages in less than ten minutes; a month of planning and agony strewn across the floor along with hundreds of little plastic pieces, instructions and clothes. I would sit there in amazement, holding my camcorder as a witness to the wasteful carnage.
It had to stop. We had been trying unsuccessfully to fulfill a fantasy for our children. A magical fantasy where someone would come and grant your most secret wishes and all you had to do, was just wish. How absurd is that? December had become a month of dread and worry. Who was going to get what? Was it even? Maybe he needs one more thing, wouldn’t want him to feel slighted.
I became a crazy woman, yelling at my kids- don’t touch the tree, stay away from the presents, if you don’t stop screaming the man in the red suit won’t come and you’ll get a lump of coal! They would look at me and blink- Had she lost her mind?
The next year, we didn’t do a tree. Maybe it was the tree, that vast, cavernous darkness underneath begging to be filled with brightly wrapped presents. It seemed to help. We leveled with our kids, told them the truth, shed light on the great Christmas myth. We had never lied to our children before, but we had lied about that. They thought that was great! They knew the truth and they were suddenly free. We had not understood the burden that the lie put on them. We opted out of the family present fest, told siblings and grandparents that we were done.
Sadness hit our family hard when my oldest was eleven. My Mom passed away on Christmas Day. We had not done anything for Christmas, as our focus had been on helping her to die. Her only wish, as she lay on her death bed, was that she wanted more time. More time to see her Grandbabies’ grow up. It was the message we needed.
Last year was a very quiet Christmas for us. We did not spend much money; we tried instead, to spend more time. My Mom’s dying wish has become our Christmas plan. It is interesting how freeing it is not to be chained by consumerist thoughts. It is interesting how the days of December melt away without worry or stress. It has become one of my favorite months.
The greatest gift this season and in all the season’s yet to come, will be the gift of time. There are really only a few true gifts that we have to offer and the gift of time is one of the most precious. So, we will spend the month of December parked in front of our fire, reading, talking, and playing cards. We will eat popcorn and fight over the blankets. The weather will keep us in and keep us close. We may have a tree to chase the shadows out of the darkness and we may plant a few presents beneath it, but it will not be our focus.
Our prayers at the dinner table will become longer as we seek to take the time to say our many thanks, for we are blessed beyond measure. We have the greatest gifts we could ever hope to have;Time and health, love and hope.
It’s just after four now, and this computer screen is the only light in the house. I won’t go back to bed now; to close to my rising time anyway. I glance over at the calendar again to confirm it- yes, 16 shopping days til Christmas. Whew! That realization had given me quite a start! I sit back, take a sip of tea and relax, my shopping cart is full and I am finished.
Andrea J.
11.30.08
Horses
There are very few times in life when I feel totally present- locked in the here and now and not thinking about the next moment or the next and not agonizing over moments that came before. My day starts with a head full of plans. Before I am even out of bed, I am plotting breakfast. How will I spend my precious hour before my family rises? The laundry is calling from the utility room floor, the dishes that I didn’t get done the previous night are jeering at me over my morning tea and the list goes on.
Like most people, I am always on the go, moving around, getting things done, marching through my days like a marine storming a foreign beach. All things are taken care of in my wake, children fed, dressed, animals milked, fed, watered, house picked up, dishes done, laundry folded, bills paid, school started, lunchtime, phone calls, school again and finally, time to start dinner, feed animals, milk animals, and water animals. On some days, and these are precious days indeed, there is time for me. I struggle to put on my coveralls and gloves, with a feeling of anticipation in my belly. I glance out the window, looking, taking stock, and deciding on my course of action. Where in the pasture is he? Does he know that I am coming, that I am looking for him? That I simply cannot wait to press my face in close to his mane and inhale that wonderful smell?
Does he know that he has saved my life, over and over again? That when I look outside, even on the dreariest of days, when both soil and soul are soggy and weighted my spirit is lifted? That he is the object of many of my daydreams? I hurry outside, grabbing a handful of apples pieces and head for the fence. The graceful bend of his neck as he nibbles on nothing shoots up when he hears his name. He takes a moment to decide and then he trots over, eager to see me too.
“What shall we do today?” He wants to know as his nose presses eagerly toward my pocket. He knows that I have brought him a gift. I hand over an apple piece and his soft nose tickles my wrist.
“Scratch there, and here,” He raises his neck fully and gives me his throat. I scratch and tell him that just his being here is enough; that his beauty soothes my soul and makes my breath quicken at all the same time and I am thankful that I am alive on this clear, cold day in November. Another horse comes over and I am surrounded and warm. They welcome me. I tug off my gloves and put my hands under his mane, I scratch behind his ears and we play our little game of follow me.
“I’ll be your shadow today,” I tell him and I follow his lead. We walk and talk, stop and nibble. Social creatures that we are, we have much to say to each other. I ask him if he wants to carry me and he answers a soft, “Yes.”
What a joy, to be carried as an adult! How many times in life are we carried? How often do we have an opportunity to let another being shoulder our weight and the weight of the world that we each carry with us? What a pleasure to let go of the day, the week, the month, the past, the future. What sublime joy it is to have such a sturdy presence carry us forward, away from the dishes and the laundry, to another place that we don’t have to walk to.
“Where shall we go today?” He asks, as my three year old scrambles up into the saddle, snuggling tightly against me.
“Let’s just go,” I say, and we do; around the farm to say hello to the cows. The August calves dodge and swerve, looking at us from under the umbrella of their eyelashes. They play with us as we go along; running ahead, into the bushes, out from the bushes, around the fence- gingerbread calves-can’t catch us now!
We pass the other horses and they raise their heads in silent greeting; the pigs are sleeping in the sunshine and do not notice our passing. The chickens are busy with the dirt, they scratch and peck the cold earth; they lie together catching sunbeams, picking good-naturedly at their neighbor’s feathers.
The scene quiets down as we leave the familiar path around the farm; the birds sing and call for their mates and the squirrels work quickly to hide their food. Small creatures’ that we cannot see scurry beneath the leaves, along the edges of the dying grasses, now laid over and brown from the frost. We pay attention to this world as we ride and we marvel at its complexity and beauty.
“Winter is coming,” The barren trees call out to the animals, “Hurry! Hurry!”
We count the white contrails against the cloudless sky and watch for deer on out path up ahead. The load lightens, with each step, it lightens. There is only here and now. Our breath is caught in the cold air for just a moment and every minute revealed is a miracle. Technicolor trees and the passing surroundings are bright and vividly clear. It’s like I have a new set of eyes; eyes that I didn’t have before and everything is sharper.
I think I know how Heaven will feel. It will be a sublime letting go; a gentle rocking motion, a soft sigh up a steep hill, scenery passing, a deep trust; true peace and the joy of freedom; another to shoulder the heavy weight and the burdens of life. I am thankful, as we go along, that I don’t have to wait, that my little piece of heaven waits patiently for me in the pasture.
Andrea J.
11.4.08
James Family Farm
Autumn is upon us again and the leaves are splendid this year! November is still a busy month here at the farm as animals are taken off pasture, fences are taken down, hay is put up, the garden is tilled…. The list goes on and on. Soon, we will be able to put our feet up and catch up on reading as the fire warms our toes!
I want to take a moment to thank everybody for making this chicken season such a success! The word has gotten out and we closed the season with a waiting list for our delicious birds! Thank You!
Turkeys: Those of you who have reserved turkeys can pick them up anytime- they are in the freezer. Please call ahead or email to give me a heads up before heading out to the farm. If you have ordered and have decided that you do not want your turkey, please let me know asap, as I have a waiting list of anxious folks.
Beef: Our autumn beef is in the freezer. Due to demand, we are selling our premium grassfed beef by the cut. Our price list is posted on our website: Jamesfamilyfarm.com Call or email me with your request and I will have it ready for you. If you just want to come shopping, we are generally available after 3pm during the week and all day Saturday. Please call ahead so that we don’t miss you!
Pork: Our tasty whole hog pork sausage is still available if you are interested in trying some. We have kielbasa, breakfast patties and bulk Italian and breakfast. Delicious!
Eggs: Egg production is slowing down as the weather turns cooler, but the demand isn’t! If you would like eggs, please reserve them ahead of time.
Wheat: Wheat? Yes your eyes are not deceiving you! There is a group of us here in the area that is getting a wheat order put together. We need 5,000 lbs to get a truckload and to get truckload prices. The wheat is through wheatmontana.com and the prices are excellent! The wheat is non-gmo and chemical free! They also have flour, spelt and other grains to order. If you are interested or would like more information, contact: Julie Embalabala at ipbees@yahoo.com or phone her @ 217-636-7942
Thanks again to all of you for making this past year such a success! We are proud to be able to offer you the very best food for your family. Let me know what we can do for you!
PS. You can visit with us or pick up some of our great food at the "Meet Your Local Producers Event", sponsored by Slow Food Springfield, Robert’s SYSCO and the Land of Lincoln Ag Coalition. They will be supporting this second annual local farm expo and holiday market. This year’s event will be held on November 22, 2008 (the last Saturday before Thanksgiving) from 10:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. at the Illinois Building on the Illinois State Fair Grounds. Admission is free to the public. This will be a great chance to pick up some goodies from local producers for your holiday meal! See you there!
Andrea James
