Farm Life

Tending to Farmers’ Mental Health

/ Sandi Knight / Leave a comment

“I better understand now that tending to my own self and my own mental health is equally as important as tending to the fields.”

This farmer’s statement is a powerful testament to the Manitoba Farmer Wellness Program (MFWP) shared in the Spring 2023 issue of CAA magazine.

After accessing the free, confidential, one-on-one counselling offered through the MFWP the farmer expressed, “A true highlight of the 2022 growing season for me was finding out about and using the counselling services provided by MFWP. Not only was it encouraging to hear that such a program exists, my sessions with Kim provided me with valuable perspective and insight towards how my own mental health is connected to the health of my farm.”

The unsolicited feedback was valuable confirmation for the MFWP board that they were providing a useful and needed service.

This impactful program was created by farmers for farmers to offer a safe, flexible way to get help. Why? They understand the many challenges that come with farming. They know how difficult it can be to know where to turn for help when stress on the farm begins to feel overwhelming.

A 2021 survey of farmer mental health found 76 per cent of farmers said they were currently experiencing moderate or high perceived stress. Suicide ideation was twice as high in farmers compared to the general population.

Research has found three main reasons to explain why many farmers do not seek the support they need: a lack of accessibility to mental health supports and services, mental health stigma in the agricultural community and a lack of anonymity.

The MFWP has addressed these three concerns. Improving mental health, increasing accessibility to support and decreasing stigma are their pillars to achieve the goal of safe, strong, healthy farm families.

Since March 1, 2022 they have offered free, one-on-one, short term counselling to farmers and their immediate family members. This year, the non-profit organization would like to raise funds to support 160 Manitoba farm families, and increase awareness about the program with industry, farmers and health care professionals.

Currently four counsellors, all with an understanding of agriculture, are available — during the day, evenings or on weekends to accommodate farmers’ unique schedules. It can be in person, by telephone or video chat depending on preference.

With spring arriving late in Manitoba this year, anxiety and stress are already starting to build in the ag community. Whether it be the stress of farming, or any other life circumstance impacting mental health and wellness, having the MFWP available to farmers and their families in our province is invaluable.

Appointments can be booked online here or by using this QR code.

If you would like to support this much-needed service, donations can be e-transferred to info@manitobafarmerwellness.ca or mailed to:

Manitoba Farmer Wellness Program, 7 Kingswood Crescent, La Salle, MB, R0A 0A1

Click here for more information or call 1-204-232-0574

If you, or some you know, are in crisis, please visit your local emergency department or call 911.

24/7 support can be found by calling:

Manitoba Farm, Rural & Northern Support Services
1-866-367-3276

Manitoba Suicide Prevention & Support Line
1-877-435-7170

Klinic Crisis Line
1-888-322-3019

More support/crisis services can be found here.

My Farm Story in Photos

/ Sandi Knight / 4 Comments

In celebration of Canadian Agriculture Day!

Proud of our family’s contribution in growing food and ingredients for you!

  • “Home”

Beyond that beautiful sea of yellow canola blossoms, within the bluff of trees on the horizon, is home.

Our house. Our farmyard. The place we plan, dream and hope. Where we’ve made, and are still making memories. Where we watch the weather. Wish for rain, for sun, and for both in the right amounts, at the right time.

My husband’s great-grandparents and their family came from Scotland and settled here over 90 years ago.

June 2021 will mark thirty-two years of it being my home. Thirty year-two years of marriage and farm life — of learning and adapting, of challenges and rewards. I fell in love with my farmer and this vast, beautiful prairie landscape. We raised our two children here, cultivating values which have enabled them to follow their dreams.

This photo evokes many memories and emotions. Among them — gratitude and pride in being part of a family farm, caring for the land entrusted to us by our ancestors, growing food for Canadians and people around the world, all while making a living on the land we love.

  • “Down to Earth”

Some people see dirt, but this is soil — a living, dynamic ecosystem. The foundation of farming. Caring for it is crucial for growing healthy crops, now and into the future.

Farmers work with agronomists and soil scientists to make decisions which will create and keep our land healthy. We are continually learning how to best do this by testing our soils, choosing proper tillage techniques, rotating the crops we grow, incorporating organic matter, reducing compaction and loss of nutrients.

Education is ongoing and when we know better, we do better. Soil type, texture, structure and density vary from field to field and farm to farm, so techniques to care for it will also vary. But ultimately farmers strive to be stewards of the land and do our very best to care for the soil that sustains us all.

  • “Sunset check”

Hands down, one of my favourite farm pics to date.

Like the majority of my photos, I just happened to be in the right place, at the right time. I was out for an evening walk with our dog, and as the sun was setting, my farmer stopped to make sure he had enough canola seed and fertilizer in the seeder (planter) to finish the field he was working in that night.

The light was magical, the cool spring air was still and rich with the scent of freshly worked soil. This photo elicits so much emotion. It speaks to the dedication and determination it takes to farm. To the advancements we are fortunate to have compared with our ancestors. To how my life has been enriched by living here, being a part of our family farm and this amazing industry.

  • “Food in progress”

Wheat in the early stages, months before it turns into the iconic waving fields of gold many people envision when they think of this crop. 

As farmers we do all we can to ensure that our crops stay healthy and flourish over the growing season. But despite our best efforts, we also need faith, hope and optimism. Ultimately, Mother Nature holds the key. The right amount of rain and sunshine are beyond our control, as are hail, frost or other adverse weather conditions that can damage or destroy our crops.

But at this point, I choose to see the potential of this ‘food in progress’. I like to envision a healthy crop of wheat being harvested, then finding its way to flour mills around Canada and the world. A small portion is always reserved for my pantry, to be used in the cookies, cakes and muffins I like to bake.

  • “Patiently waiting”

Miss Sage, sitting attentively in our truck, waiting for the tractor and seeder (planter) in the distance to come around the field to where we are parked. We had brought lunch out to the field for my farmer. Sage knows he’s in there, and also knows there’s a good chance he’ll share a bit of that lunch with her!

She is our second dog — both were city-dogs who came from owners who were moving and looking for a good home for their much-loved pets. Both adapted to farm life well — lots of space to run and play, long walks and even tractor rides.

A wonderful transition for them, but so much more for us. Yes, they warn us when someone comes into our farmyard, but they also provide companionship. And when things go wrong — whether it’s machinery breaking down at a critical time or crops being damaged from drought, hail or flooding — our farm dog plays the role of counsellor. Either with a goofy smile and playful greeting, or simply sitting silently beside you, guiding your hand to the top of their head. That, along with unconditional love and joy they bring into our lives makes them an invaluable member of our farm family.

  • “Remember when”

Up until 11 years ago, cattle were a part of our family farm. Our herd was small, only 30 to 40 cows and calves. This time of year would be filled with the excitement and challenges of cows giving birth.

But there came a time when it no longer made financial sense to keep our small herd. We either had to acquire more animals, which meant a large investment in them, shelter, equipment and more pasture, or sell our herd and focus solely on the grain and oilseed part of our operation.

Economically, it was an easy decision. Emotionally it was difficult. Cattle had been on our farm for generations. It requires dedication and a love for animals to work with them. And there are always those extra special animals who form an exceptional bond with you. There were many mixed emotions the day they left our farm.

  • “Chasing rainbows”

I’ve walked countless miles on this country road — almost always with camera in hand. It’s exercise, but it’s also a moving meditation. A time to clear my mind and reset. A time to focus on what’s around me. To capture moments and memories — of crops growing, native flowers in the ditches, butterflies, birds, wildlife, the ever-changing prairie skies and in the winter snowscapes and drifts.

Last October, we had a day of sunshine, scattered showers and temperature swings. I didn’t have high expectations for photos with the growing season over and the unpredictable weather. But as the sun and rain clouds grappled for dominance in the sky, this rainbow arced over our farmyard, behind the bluff of trees. No pot of gold, but a beautiful surprise that brightened my day and made for a memorable walk. Views like this are one of the side-benefits of farming and living on the Canadian Prairies.

  • “Farmyard silhouette”

A September evening during harvest. The sky made a beautiful backdrop for the silhouettes of grain bins and trees in our farmyard. A peaceful look for a very busy spot that time of year.

Harvest is the ‘red carpet’ event of farming. The combine (harvester) in the field gathering crops is the ‘star’ of the show.

The farmyard is where all the ‘backstage’ hustle and bustle happens to keep the show going. It’s where equipment is stored. A place for repairs, maintenance, refueling, organizing. It’s where the crop is hauled to by truck, then unloaded into storage bins until it can be sold.

It’s where everything harvested is double checked for moisture content and quality. Where samples from each truckload are collected and kept to share with the Canadian Grain Commission and companies who buy our crop.

When harvest conditions aren’t ideal and the moisture content of a crop is too high to store safely, this is where it is ‘dried’. Using a grain dryer adds to the hustle and bustle with extra steps, time and cost. But when the weather doesn’t cooperate, it’s a neccessary step to ensure crop quality.

The farmyard is where plans are made and days are organized. It’s a place of frustration when things go wrong and gratitude when everything runs smoothly.

This ‘backstage’ is often overlooked during harvest, but it’s the driving force behind the show. And while I do love a beautiful combine silhouette shot as much as the next person, I was happy to capture our farmyard in this magic evening light. 🙌

  • “Hopper full of gold”

Harvest is an exciting time of year as you reap the rewards of a full year of planning, working and hoping the weather is favourable. Not only to grow healthy crops that yield well, but also weather which allows you to quickly and efficiently harvest those crops in top condition.

This photo captures both the beauty and significance of harvest. The setting sun is over top of the “hopper”, (the part of the combine where the harvested seeds collect after they have been separated from the stems and leaves of the plants). One of my favourite harvest sunset shots to date.

  • “Where it all began”

This old black and white aerial photo shows our farmyard four generations ago.

My husband’s great-grandparents settled here in 1926, a second move after immigrating from Scotland in 1922. They wanted a farm with trees, good drinking water and soil without stones. This site fit the criteria to make living and farming here better.

Much has changed since then, but reminders of our past remain with some of the buildings repurposed or repaired. The barn loft was lowered and became our machine shed. Old steel wheels and pieces of harrow bar grace my flower beds and garden. Picture frames have been made from discarded barn windows. Our kitchen table and chairs are crafted from wooden barn beams.

It’s important to remember our history. To look back with gratitude on the hard work, determination and resilience of our ancestors which ensured we too could farm, make a life and a living here.

Celebrating Canada’s Agriculture Day with Farm Photos

/ Sandi Knight / 2 Comments

Originally published in the Manitoba Co-operator February 7, 2020

February  11th, Canada’s Agriculture Day, is intended to showcase all the amazing things happening in our industry. It’s a time to create a closer connection between consumers, our food and the people who produce it. Sharing what you love about Canadian agriculture can be as simple as posting a photo.

For me, a social media “10-day farming-family photo challenge” last year was a great exercise in putting this into practice. Every day I was to, “Select an image from a day in the life of farming that has had an impact on me, post it without a single explanation and nominate someone else to take the challenge —10 days, 10 farming photos, 10 nominations, and 0 explanations.”

But with less than 2% of our population farming, it seemed like pictures without explanations would be a missed opportunity to share our farm-to-food story — to make a connection with the other 98%, to create a welcoming forum for asking questions, addressing concerns and virtually inviting others onto our family farm.

These are my choices — the photos that affected me, stirred my emotions, made me pause and reflect on 30 years of life on our family farm.  They’re ones I will share again on Canada’s Agriculture Day, along with others taken over the course of this past year.

What pictures would you choose and which stories would you share?

‘Home’ — Day 1

Across that golden field of blooming canola, within the bluff of trees, is our family farm. My husband’s great-grandparents and their family came from Scotland and settled here over 90 years ago.

June 2019 marked thirty years of it being my home. Thirty years of marriage and farm life. Thirty years of learning and adapting. Thirty years of challenges and rewards. I fell in love with my farmer and this vast, beautiful prairie landscape. We raised our two children here, cultivating values which have enabled them to follow their dreams.

I pulled over one day last summer on my way home to take this photo. I’ve taken many pictures in and around our yard, but never from this distance or perspective. This photo evokes many memories and emotions. Among them — gratitude and pride in being part of a family farm, caring for the land entrusted to us by our ancestors, growing food for Canadians and people around the world, all while making a living on the land we love.

‘Down to earth’ — Day 2

Some people see dirt, but this is soil — a living, dynamic ecosystem. The foundation of farming. Caring for it is crucial for growing healthy crops, now and into the future. Farmers work with agronomists and soil scientists to make decisions that will create and keep our land healthy. We are continually learning how to best do this by testing our soils, choosing proper tillage techniques, rotating the crops we grow, incorporating organic matter, reducing compaction and loss of nutrients. Education is ongoing and when we know better, we do better. Soil type, texture, structure and density vary from field to field and farm to farm, so techniques to care for it will also vary. But ultimately farmers strive to be stewards of the land and do their very best to care for the soil that sustains us all.

‘Hopper Full of Gold’ — Day 3

Harvest is the ‘red-carpet’ event of farming, and the combine (harvester) is the ‘star’. Those trucking grain from the field to storage bins, or going for parts when there is a breakdown, or making meals, play supporting roles.

It’s an exciting time as you reap the rewards of a full year of planning, working and hoping the weather is favourable. Not only to grow healthy crops that yield well, but also weather which allows you to quickly and efficiently harvest those crops in top condition.

This photo captures both the beauty and significance of harvest. The setting sun is over top of the “hopper”, (the part of the combine where the harvested seeds collect after they have been separated from the stems and leaves of the plants). One of my favourite harvest shots to date.

‘Food in Progress’ — Day 4

Wheat in the early stages, months before it turns into the iconic waving fields of gold many people envision when they think of this crop. 

As farmers we do all we can to ensure that our crops stay healthy and flourish over the growing season. But despite our best efforts, we also need faith, hope and optimism. Ultimately, Mother Nature holds the key. The right amount of rain and sunshine are beyond our control, as are hail, frost or other adverse weather conditions that can damage or destroy our crops.

But at this point, I choose to see the potential of this ‘food in progress’. I like to envision a healthy crop of wheat being harvested, then finding its way to flour mills around Canada and the world. A small portion is always reserved for my pantry, to be used in the cookies, cakes and muffins I like to bake.

‘Sunset Check’ — Day 5

Hands down, one of my favourite farm pics to date.

Like the majority of my photos, I just happened to be in the right place, at the right time. I was out for an evening walk with our dog, and as the sun was setting, my husband stopped to make sure he had enough canola seed and fertilizer in the seeder (planter) to finish the field he was working in that night.

The light was magical, the cool spring air was still and rich with the scent of freshly worked soil. This photo evokes so much emotion. It speaks to the dedication and determination it takes to farm. To the advancements we are fortunate to have compared with our ancestors. To how my life has been enriched by living here, being a part of our family farm and this amazing industry.

‘Remember when’ — Day 6

Up until 10 years ago, cattle were a part of our family farm. Our herd was small, only 30 to 40 cows and calves. This time of year would be filled with the excitement and challenges of cows giving birth.

But there came a time when it no longer made financial sense to keep our small herd. We either had to acquire more animals, which meant a large investment in them, shelter, equipment and more pasture, or sell our herd and focus solely on the grain and oilseed part of our operation.

Economically, it was an easy decision. Emotionally it was difficult. Cattle had been on our farm for generations. It requires dedication and a love for animals to work with them. And there are always those extra special animals who form an exceptional bond with you. There were many mixed emotions the day they left our farm.

‘Patiently waiting’ — Day 7

Our dog, Sage, sitting attentively in the truck, waiting for the tractor and seeder (planter) in the distance to come around the field to where we are parked. We had brought lunch out to the field for my farmer. Sage knows he’s in there, and also knows there’s a good chance he’ll share a bit of that lunch with her!

She is our second dog — both were city-dogs who came from owners who were moving and looking for a good home for their much-loved pets. Both adapted to farm life well — lots of space to run and play, long walks and even tractor rides.

A wonderful transition for them, but so much more for us. Yes, they warn us when someone comes into our farmyard, but they also provide companionship. And when things go wrong — whether it’s machinery breaking down at a critical time or crops being damaged from drought, hail or flooding — our farm dog plays the role of counsellor. Either with a goofy smile and playful greeting, or simply sitting silently beside you, guiding your hand to the top of their head. That, along with unconditional love and joy they bring into our lives makes them an invaluable member of our farm family.

‘Late night harvest memories’ — Day 8

This photo was taken during harvest, September 2013. My farmer was hauling wheat from the field into the farmyard for storage. He needed a hand. Our daughter, 18-yrs-old at the time, was helping. They’re pausing here, discussing something, as they keep an eye on the equipment working to unload the wheat. It wasn’t the first, or the last time she helped, but it’s the only time I had my camera to capture the memory, and for me it has #allthefeels.

‘After the rain’ — Day 9

No pot of gold here, but hopefully a sign of just the right amount of rain for the growing season. And ultimately, an abundant harvest which ensures those white storage bins in our farmyard will be filled with grain.

We can do absolutely everything to the best of our ability, but Mother Nature holds the cards, determines the outcome — and our income. Every. Single. Year. I’m not sure it’s a risk you ever get used to, but it’s a reality of farming. The reason we’re so acutely concerned with the weather. The reason many farmers have traits of optimism and resilience to deal with those challenges and keep going year after year.

‘Where it all began’ — Day 10

This old black and white aerial photo shows our farmyard four generations ago.

My husband’s great-grandparents settled here in 1926, a second move after immigrating from Scotland in 1922. They wanted a farm with trees, good drinking water and soil without stones. This site fit the criteria to make living and farming here better.

Much has changed since then, but reminders of our past remain with some of the buildings repurposed or repaired. Old steel wheels and pieces of harrow bar grace my flower beds and garden. Picture frames have been made from discarded barn windows. Our kitchen table and chairs are crafted from wooden barn beams.

It’s important to remember our history. To look back with gratitude on the hard work, determination and resilience of our ancestors which ensured we too could farm, make a life and a living here.

 

 

Three Gifts for You

/ Sandi Knight / 3 Comments

Originally published in the Manitoba Co-operator December 24, 2019

I don’t think anyone in agriculture will dispute 2019 was a year for the record books. The challenges kept mounting throughout the growing season – all of them beyond our control.

Drought followed by untimely, excessive rains and snowfalls. A long, difficult harvest with conditions causing many crops to be left in the field. Poor yields and livestock feed shortages. A lengthy power-outage. Add to all that, trade disputes and a railway strike. It’s been discouraging and exhausting – physically, emotionally and economically.

With Christmas just around the corner, I wish I could do something to make a difference. I’d love to wrap up gifts of financial stability, fair trade deals and the promise of a stress-free, productive year in 2020 for all.

Unfortunately, I can only offer three simple wishes. They have no financial value, but are priceless commodities for the human spirit.

My first wish is serenity. I hope you have a place to find serenity. It may be a peaceful walk in the country, a drive to see Christmas lights, visiting a library or art gallery. Maybe a fireplace where you can curl up with a cup of tea. Perhaps a favourite chair in a quiet room – add music, candlelight or that book you’ve been meaning to read. You might find serenity in the face of a sleeping child or in the beauty of a sunrise or sunset. Or maybe it’s hidden in the glow of Christmas lights casting a peaceful and warm feeling over your home.

My second wish is faith. Faith means many things to many people. We are fortunate to live in a country where we have the freedom to choose our faith. But faith is more than religion – it is what keeps us going when times are difficult – believing things will get better; believing in the resiliency of the human spirit. You may find your faith in a place of worship. Your faith could be restored by a visit at the kitchen table with a good friend. You may find faith in the kindness of strangers or in the excited eyes of a child on Christmas morning. Faith may be buried deep inside you or found in the beauty of nature. When you gaze upon a magnificent prairie sky or watch the northern lights and millions of stars above, how can you not have faith?

My third and final wish is humour. Where would we be without laughter? It provides both a physical and emotional release, reducing stress and increasing relaxation, as well as boosting our immune systems. Laughter can re-energize you, give you strength and put life into perspective. You may find humour in a television show, movie, old pictures, a favourite comic strip or meme. Or how about a visit with that one friend that can always make you lighten up and laugh? Having a sense of humour helps us cope and keeps us moving forward.

Imagine these gifts under your tree this Christmas, beautifully wrapped, for you and your family. May serenity, faith and humour be with you always and help you deal with the many challenges farming and life bring your way.

And as you celebrate this holiday season, may you be surrounded by people who understand, support, uplift and encourage you. Merry Christmas from our family farm to yours.

Timing is everything — especially in farming

/ Sandi Knight / 8 Comments

Storm rolling in a sunset over a soybean field

Dear September,

You sure weren’t yourself this year. The warm, sunny, dry, harvest days you usually provide happened ever so briefly the first week you were here. Then the rains, which we had longed for all spring and summer, came pouring down, bringing a sudden halt to harvest for the remainder of the month. What was up with that?

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that we didn’t appreciate you bringing some much-needed moisture to our drought-stricken area of Manitoba. But you really threw us a curve-ball. Over 3 times the amount of rain we had all growing season – in your brief 30 days here — was, well…badly timed.

If only you could have relinquished, at least a portion of, those excessive rains to May, June and July. You must know those are the ever-important formative months of growth for plants.

Didn’t you see us watching the skies in dire hopelessness, praying for moisture, as our crops and hay-lands struggled to grow and thrive? It was heartbreaking to see them dry up from excessive heat and lack of moisture, creeks run dry and river levels at record lows. Not sure if you caught the news, but twelve municipalities across Manitoba declared an agriculture state of emergency as drought and grasshoppers hindered crops.

So September, you can understand our disappointment and frustration, when you come along and completely shut down what little harvest we had with your heavy rains, hail, and in some parts of the prairies — snow.

It’s not that we’re ungrateful to you for restoring soil moisture and bringing pastures back to life for livestock in drought-stricken areas, but you got a little carried away with the “2nd wettest September in 150 years”. And snow? That was just mean.

You’re right, you’re right. Not all farmers are in the same boat. Some of us did manage to get all, or most of, our wheat and canola in the bins. Yes, others, in parts of the prairies where rains were more timely during the growing season, had healthier crops and better yields. But do you have any idea how difficult it is to sit and watch a bountiful crop deteriorate in quality and value from too much rain and snow? Or be totally decimated in a hail storm?

It might be hard for you to understand, but our income is totally dependent on the weather. Every. Single. Year. The timing of weather events is crucial for our crops to thrive and be harvested. When one or several months don’t deliver what is required, the toll it takes on farmers, and their families, is financially, emotionally and even physically exhausting. And I’m sorry to say, September, but you added even more stress and anxiety, which we really didn’t expect. After all, you are normally the driest month.

To date, October is following your lead with cloudy, dreary days, albeit with a little less rain. And now snow? For potentially the next 5 days? But we still need at least a few weeks of warm, sunny, dry weather.

Just take a look around. Potato and vegetable growers are struggling in the mud trying to salvage their crop before frost hits and destroys them as happened last year. There’s a hay shortage. It’s critical for livestock producers to get their silage made, and secure any other available feed and straw to ensure they can care for their animals over the winter months. And surely you see the all the wheat, canola, soybeans, sunflowers, corn and many other crops still out there — wet conditions and muddy fields making it a challenge to get to them.

So much food, feed and even next year’s seed is waiting to be harvested across the prairies. Some of it deteriorating beyond the point of being salvaged. So many resources have gone into growing it all. You might not be able to see the stress and turmoil the caretakers of those crops are going through, but with each passing day, it grows.

I know. What’s done is done. You’re sorry you were off your usual harvest-weather game this year. So what do I want you do about it now?

Well, could you please pass on a message to October? Enough is enough. Stop with the rain and snow. Please send a long stretch of decent harvest weather. The farmers of western Canada could really use a break.

If you or someone you know is struggling with this challenging year, please reach out for help. 

Do More Ag – Resources:   www.domore.ag/resources/

Manitoba Farm, Rural and Northern Support Services:    www.supportline.ca

Calm in the Storm:    www.calminthestormapp.com

 

Community. Connection. Canola.

/ Sandi Knight / 2 Comments

Food Day Canada is an annual celebration of Canadian food held on the first Saturday of August. It honours farmers, ranchers, fishers and processors by serving local and regional food and beverages.

But this year, I want to turn the tables to acknowledge, celebrate and thank a special community. A diverse, talented, inquisitive and caring community I would never had met without the Canola Eat Well team from the Manitoba Canola Growers.

Over the years they have organized farm tours, community summits, in-person and on-line food events. Opportunities for this prairie farm girl, and farmers from across Canada, to met chefs, registered dietitians, home economists, recipe developers, food writers/bloggers, scientists and media personnel from coast to coast.

It has provided the chance to share stories and have thoughtful, insightful conversations about food and farming. It has created friendships and meaningful connections.

Our #CanolaConnect community is a special one in many ways. The recent, thoughtful actions of those in it have inspired this post. Below is my thank you to them.

Flowering Canola

Dear Canola-Connect Community,

Since China banned Canadian canola exports, your support and concern for canola farmers has been phenomenal. Your response has emphasized the power and importance of connection and community.

So on Food Day Canada, I want to celebrate you – the chefs, registered dietitians, home economists, recipe developers, food writers/bloggers and media personnel. Your voices as food communicators are valued and important.

In the recent months, you have called on Canadians to include canola oil when they ‘support local’. You have highlighted not only the versatility and nutritional value of our made-in-Canada oil, but the impact of exports to farmers, the industry and our economy.

As I’ve watched you on your television spots or Facebook lives, read your blogs or social media posts, I’ve often had a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. Your shout-outs, your recipes, your unwavering support, really make a difference to me.

It may not change trade disputes or the outcome of this year’s crop, but it makes it easier to deal with the difficulties. Knowing someone cares. Knowing someone supports you. Knowing someone appreciates what you grow.

Using your talents and passion for what you do to share our stories with your audience makes my heart sing. Every time you make a shout-out to farmers, Canadian food, give the facts behind canola oil and food in general, I’m cheering from the sidelines!

Whether we have met in person at Harvest Camp, Canola Summit, cooking demos or on-line through #canolaconnect, I want to express my gratitude and appreciation. Thank you for your curiousity, interest and desire to learn. For connecting with farmers and understanding the complexities of food production. For appreciating where our food comes from as well as the risks and challenges associated with it.

As Ellen Pruden, Canola Eat Well Director, so wisely stated, “Acts of support are like acts of kindness. They do something to lift people up and make a difference.”

Jennifer Dyck photo

#CanolaConnect Blog Posts

Canada’s Crop: Why I Choose Canola

We Support Canadian Farmers

Opinion: A love letter to you

 

 

 

 

 

Grandma’s Berry Patch

/ Sandi Knight / 6 Comments

In the cool morning air, the sun’s dappled light plays through towering trees near Grandma’s raspberry patch. A light breeze keeps mosquitoes at bay. Glistening dew on succulent red berries makes them irresistible.  As we start to pick the lucious fruit, my cousins and I declare, “One for the bucket, two to taste-test!”  Aunts and mothers scold us; uncles and fathers simply smile and wink as they pop berries into their mouths. 

This vivid memory always comes back to me this time of year. The family gathering on my grandparent’s farm to pick raspberries, visit and reconnect.

Adults headed down the long rows of raspberries first, children behind them to pick lower berries the older generation missed. Following the men seemed to ensure more fruit was left behind. They always appeared more intent on visiting than gleaning every berry in front of them.

Light-hearted conversations were interspersed with laughter and teasing as the adults caught up on each others’ lives.

Some years, picking would come to a momentary halt when a bird’s nest would be found cleverly built within the canes — usually robins. Sometimes the nest held only small blue eggs but we loved it best when the eggs were hatched, and baby birds eagerly opened their beaks looking for food.

Once pails were filled to the brim, the bounty was taken back to Grandma’s kitchen. The men would visit on the porch while the women carefully poured the fruit onto cookie sheets to hasten the cleaning process. Tiny twigs, leaves and bugs would be expertly removed, comments made about the abundant debris found in some of the buckets. The males of the clan often declared themselves the quickest berry-pickers, but that didn’t necessarily mean they were the most efficient.

Regardless, bowls of delicious berries would be readied for everyone, covered with cream from that morning’s milking. No matter how many we’d consumed while picking, we’d happily gather with the adults in the shade to enjoy more.

A pail or two were set aside for each family to take home. The remainder quickly processed into jam, or canned for later use. Sometimes Grandma would make pies. No matter how hot it was outside, she preferred to use the wood stove, claiming the crust and flavour were far superior to baking in the electric range. We couldn’t disagree — her pies were fabulous!

For Grandma, this summer ritual was about gathering food you’d grown, not letting anything go to waste and sharing with family. I doubt if she knew she was preserving far more than berries — she was preserving memories. Memories which would carry on long after she was gone. Memories which return without fail every year when raspberry season comes around. Memories I will always cherish.

Waiting on the weather…

/ Sandi Knight / 2 Comments

An early evening storm rolled along Highway 16. The heat of the +33 Celcius day dissipated as a much-needed rain began to fall. A rainbow arched across the sky ahead of me, beckoning me home from my road trip to a nearby town.

As I turned on the windshield wipers, I let hope slip in for the ride. Maybe, just maybe, the storm would reach our farm. But the closer I got to home, the lighter the rain became. The showy rainbow held out, but only a mere 3 millimeters* of precipitation fell. We needed 10–15 times that much. Crops suffering from lack of moisture, dry pastures and haylands in our area, would get no relief that night.

And unfortunately, not much in the weeks since. The heat is intense, temperatures about 10 degrees above normal. It feels like August, yet it is only the end of June.

We are still waiting on the weather, longing and hoping for a significant rainfall. We’re not saying the ‘D’ word (drought) out loud yet, but it’s in the back of our minds.

Last year was tough. Rains were spotty and more often than not, they missed our farm. It was a long, hot, dry, dusty summer. Harvest was discouraging with below-average yields. There were no celebratory moments. It was a year of trudging through, filled with worry, concern and disappointment. When the rains finally came in the midst of harvest, there was a bit of relief — at least soil moisture was building for next year.

Now here we are, looking at a seemingly carbon-copy of last year — possibly worse. It’s difficult to remain positive and hopeful for the growing season ahead.

As a result, I find myself reluctant to share our farming story. Even writing, which usually flows easily for me, has become a challenge. I want to be open and transparent, to convey an understanding of what we do and the crops we grow. But right now, concern outweighs good news. There is no joy in photographing crops that aren’t lush and healthy. And how do you talk about tough times without sounding like you’re complaining? After all, this is our chosen field of work.

A friend gently reminded me, as I was deflecting worry and not doing a good job at trying to be upbeat, it is perfectly normal to be concerned about your livelihood. Farming isn’t easy. Being authentic means being honest about tough times as well. Even if it makes us feel vulnerable.

So truth be told, the worry and weight of farming last year, and again now, is a tough slog. Watching the sky, chasing rainbows and counting raindrops takes an emotional toll. For me, gratitude is a daily practice. I strive to find the beauty in every day and share optomistic, encouraging moments. But even the most positive attitude can’t shift the weather. And as much as I try to push worry away, it still sits on my shoulders, jostling for position with hope.

The weather always determines the outcome, and our income. Every. Single. Year. You would think, after 30 years of farmlife, I’d be used to it. But that 100% reliance on Mother Nature is the most difficult reality of farming.

I’m not sharing this for sympathy, but rather empathy and understanding — for farmers everywhere. Imagine if the weather determined your paycheck. You work the equal amount of time every year, your living costs remain the same, or may even go up, but if it rains too much or too little, your take-home pay is cut — perhaps by 25% – 50%, or possibly more.

So if farmers appear to be obsessing or complaining about the weather, it’s because that connection ultimately decides the results of their labours — even when they’ve done everything within their control, to the best of their ability.

Lack of rain is causing stress and anxiety in our area of the prairies. Eastern Canada has struggled with excessive rains and flooding, wreaking havoc with planting. Cutting hay for livestock feed has been extremely challenging. The excitement and optimism a new growing season generally brings has been dashed for many.

So if you know a farmer, reach out – ask how they are really doing. Listen to concerns. Get together for a coffee, a meal, a movie. It won’t change the reality of too little or too much rain, but it always makes a difference knowing someone else cares. Often simply sharing our worries out loud, lightens the emotional load.

As for me, you’ll still see those positive posts and gorgeous prairie sunsets, but I’ll strive to be more open about the difficulties and disappointments as well. For now, it’s still eyes to the sky, waiting on the weather and a desperately-needed rain.

 

 

*Millimeter to inch conversion:    25 mm = 1 inch

Not as strong as I think I am

/ Sandi Knight / 4 Comments

Originally published in the Manitoba Co-operator August 2, 2018

I thought I was doing fine. Not too worried or concerned. I kept telling myself, it would all work out, and if it didn’t we’d be okay.

We’ve always had a crop. We would this year too. It wouldn’t be a bumper crop. Not even an average one, but after being married to a farmer for 29 years, I knew the risks. Only two years ago, we’d struggled with the reverse — three months of excessive rain. Weather challenges are not a shock nor surprise. Disappointing, yes, but I know worrying doesn’t change it, or help me in any way.

So I tucked my worries away, concerned for the pressure my farmer was feeling, but confident I was dealing well with the lack of rain. I kept busy, focused on other things, took advantages of get-togethers with friends and carried on.

Then on June 29th it rained! Such relief! We woke to 13.4 mm in the rain gauge! The most substantial rainfall we’d had all spring. The crops looked so much better that day.

But I noticed something else. I felt happier, lighter. There was a spring in my step I hadn’t had for a while. I was smiling more. Despite believing I was dealing well with the drought-like conditions, it was still a weight I carried on my shoulders. I wasn’t immune to worry. Damn. Not as strong as I think I am.

I talked to a couple of other farming friends who could relate. It was a reminder to be aware, to look out not only for our farming partners in times of stress, but also to look after ourselves. To talk about what’s going on if we need to, even if we don’t want to be seen as that person complaining about the weather — again, despite those concerns being valid.

The business of producing food has many rewards, but it isn’t easy dealing with the weather-dependent aspect of farming. We can do absolutely everything to the best of our ability but ultimately Mother Nature holds the cards, determines the outcome — and our income. Every. Single. Year. I’m not sure it’s a risk you ever get used to, so finding ways to cope is important.

Building a support system helps. Personally I have friends — farming and non-farming — who truly understand and are always there for me. I met with a counselor last winter whose door is always open any time I need to talk. As well, there are many resources available at Manitoba Farm, Rural and Northern Support Services.

More recently, the Do More Ag Foundation was founded by a group of people passionate about mental health in agriculture. They are not only creating awareness, educating and breaking the stigma, but are also creating a community for people to connect and find the resources they need — national, provincial and territorial — in times of stress and anxiety.

Through their website I discovered there’s even an app for that. Calm in the Storm is a free app, created by mental health professionals in Manitoba, launched in December 2014. The easy to use app and website are designed to reduce, manage, and learn about stress in your life using clinically proven information and strategies. Features include guided audio meditations, tools for assessing your stress with ways to customize and track your experience and even create a personalized safety plan.

A helpful tool for anyone and one I will be exploring as our crops continue to struggle with lack of rain. The recent heat wave has taken its toll on our farm and those around us. Other areas have been hit hard with storms and hail. With farming we rarely get the perfect year, but the extremes are especially challenging. The hold the weather has on our lives and livelihoods can, at times, be tiring.

A friend recently posted a picture of a canola field damaged by hail, stating, “Farmers are proud to share the good stories but suffer silently with the bad ones.” So true. It is much easier to share our successes than our hardships. But the culture is slowly shifting, for the better. There is more openness, increased awareness and many resources available for our mental well-being. No need to suffer silently in times of stress. Strength is being redefined. It no longer means carrying the load on your own.

Links:

Do More Ag – Resources:   www.domore.ag/resources/

Manitoba Farm, Rural and Northern Support Services:    www.supportline.ca

Calm in the Storm:    www.calminthestormapp.com

 

 

Precision Plant Breeding – Clarifying ‘What’s in a name?’

/ Sandi Knight / Leave a comment

Originally published April 26, 2018 in the The Manitoba Cooperator 

Canola Blossoms

Science has always led the way in agriculture, and continues to do so today. Yet advances in plant breeding are being met with skepticism, fear and vehement opposition by many consumers.

Perhaps we aren’t listening closely enough to their concerns. Because we understand the science, we assumed they would too. We’ve failed in telling our story, or at least to the right people. Farmers are great at connecting with other farmers but we need to go beyond our online echo chambers and ensure we’re reaching the end-users.

While we’ve lagged behind, fear-based marketing campaigns have swayed consumers while activists continue to stand in the way of efficient, leading-edge plant breeding methods.

We’re frustrated, but we shouldn’t be surprised.

At medical appointments when doctors use confusing terminology, we stop and ask them to explain in terms we can understand. The same can be said for any expert – they know the technical terms and acronyms specific to their fields, but if they’re trying to convey a message, layman’s terms are needed.

Yet in agriculture we continue to use terms such as GMO, GE, GM, transgenic, CRISPR, TALEN, genome/gene editing and biotech crops. No wonder there is apprehension and confusion. Even when people do not know what a GMO is, they believe it something that should be feared and avoided. See “What’s a GMO?” for Jimmy Kimmel’s take on the subject. He sent a camera crew to a farmers’ market near his studio to ask people what they thought GMO meant.

GMO is now a widely recognized, often misused and misunderstood term. It’s used extensively by media and marketers alike. We can’t abandon it, but we can shift to clearer, all-encompassing terminology which covers all the latest advances.

No matter the type of plant breeding used over the last 10,000 years, the goal has always been the same – genetic improvement. Make the plants better – disease and insect resistant, improved qualities and yields. With newer technologies now available, the process has become extremely precise and efficient. “Precision plant breeding” covers it all in clear, concise and understandable language.

The term is a welcoming, open door to further the conversation as to the benefits on our farms, to the environment, the consumer and those in developing countries.

Precision plant breeding is one of the tools available to help feed our ever-growing world and adapt to changes in the environment. It offers solutions to famine, malnutrition, drought, flooding and disease.

We can’t expect unequivocal acceptance without explanation. We need to effectively communicate to the masses the what, when, why, where and how.

Clearer language is a positive step forward in taking down fences of fear and building bridges of understanding.

Not everyone will be on the same page. But hopefully there will be enough consensus to lead the world to the ultimate goal – abundant, safe, affordable food for all.