From the Maternity Pen to the Market: The Birth of a Business

Welcome! We are the family (yes, the crazy, overworked, overenthusiastic family) behind Ravenwood Ranch, and our little shop in Caroline, Ravenwood Farm Fresh Meats. I am often asked "How did this all begin?" so I am going to take a moment to reflect on the insanity that has thus cumulated to engulf our lives as agribusiness entrepreneurs. The past year has been a whirlwind of exciting changes fraught with anxiety inducing growth and moments of giddy exhilaration. It is kind of funny to consider that just a year or two ago we were "hobby farmers" doing what we loved for the sheer enjoyment of having mud on our boots and a thick mat of goat hair on our winter jackets. Actually, I should clarify. *I* was doing it for a sheer love of the mud, the hair, the smells and the "moooooos" while my dearly beloved was doing it purely out of sheer love for me. Mark has always been a good sport. And me? I've always been really gifted at pushing his limits with just "one more" furry creature for us to love, dote upon and inevitably produce more, er, compost to stick to our boots.

But I am getting ahead of myself. Lets backtrack to where it all began.

Shortly before my 5th birthday my family purchased a quarter of land bordering the Raven River. The remote valley property was little more than a cow pasture, complete with the requisite cow turds and galvanized watering trough. My childhood was one of fairy tales - the girl who grows up with horses, baby goats, the trusty farm dog and a house full of love. I suppose it would suffice to say that in all actuality my parents are ultimately to blame for this adventure. No Alberta farm is complete without a herd of cattle, and it wasn't long before our pasture was filled with a bovine extension of our family. Large, hairy with eyes the size of nectarines. These lowly beasts brought hours of entertainment for fledgling farmers learning the ropes of handling livestock. It was with great excitement and anticipation when we welcomed their first wobbly, wet calves to the world each spring.

It was these cherished memories of the childhood of a farm girl that ultimately lead me to Saskatchewan to pursue a Bachelor of Science degree in Agriculture. It seemed too good to be true that I could sit in lectures day after day ruminating over the nutritional and behavioural concerns of all manners of beasts. It was during this time that I also found my partner in crime, my soulmate and biggest cheerleader, Mark. We were married in 2002. In 2004 we both convocated from the U of S, Mark with his MSc in Biology, and myself with a BSA in Animal Science.Mark was quickly recruited by a contract research company back in Alberta where he would study the environmental fates of pesticides. I found work as a dairy lab technician, which is a fancy term for "butter taste tester". It greatly amused my loved ones that I, Ms. Lactose Intolerant, found gainful employment ingesting dairy products day after day. We lived in a small town 45 minutes east of my beloved childhood ranch, and tried to return home often to visit. In 2005 we were thrilled to discover that our little brood was going to grow. In anticipation of our newest family member we decided the farm was the ideal place to raise a family. We ended up "squatting" on my parent's quarter, planting a mobile home in the horse pasture 400 yards from their house during one of the worst floods in memory. October 2005 brought the arrival of William, our brightest blessing. We marvelled at his perfect skin, his tiny fingernails, his downy soft hair, his dazzling dimples. It is funny how someone so small can suddenly change so very much. I suddenly came to the realization that there was no possible way I could be physically apart from this small child. I grew nauseated at the thought of one day putting him into daycare so I could jet off to my career, working hard to make money to pay the babysitter who was raising my child. Irrational entrepreneurial thoughts danced in my head. Previous stints as a dogsitter and miniature horse equipment distributor had bombed unsuccessfully. What could I do? The answer came to me through a divine messenger of the porcine variety. I would farm! Yes!!! I would become a pig farmer. Oh, and some meat goats too. I would raise the animals (oh, what fun that would be!), market their meat to friends and family, earn a little cash on the side allowing me to stay home inevitably with my precious baby boy. Yes! It was sheer genius! It had to work! Oh, and while I was at it why not reduce my living expenses and learn to bake my own bread from scratch. And a milk cow would be a logical choice, no doubt. I am a classic Type A personality and soon immersed myself into researching everything I could about raising diverse livestock. I knew there was no way that I could compete with the large scale hog operations, so I focused on finding a niche that was different. My answer came in the form of beautiful black beauties called Berkshires. This rare breed was world renowned for its succulent, tender, flavourful pork. They were not ideal for conventional hog production as they were slow growing and the black hairy hogs were often discounted in conventional market chains. But they were hardy, resistant, adaptable and eager to live outdoors in a pasture system complete with grass to root up and mud to thoroughly cake their beautiful ebony hides. I was smitten. The goats were an easy decision. I have always had a strong love for goats. The kids are comical, energetic and a true embodiement of joy. The does are stoic, thoughtful, elegant and feminine. And although bucks are notorious for their pungent cologne I am sure anyone who has had experience with goats will agree that of all the Animal Kingdom bucks are devoted and romantic souls to their beloved does. I knew the goats would be a wonderful animal to raise with a toddler in tow, as safety and ease of handling on my own were prime concerns. My plan began to take form and within no time I had amassed a small herd of goats and a small herd of pigs. I savoured every moment of caring for them, feeding them, stroking their ears, drying off their young. It was truly a magical time in my life being home with my tiny son, pulling him on his toboggan out to the kidding pen in the morning, enjoying napping in the sunshine in the afternoon. For the next year I felt as if I were walking on air. Then reality hit. One day I came to the realization that livestock are prolific. Extremely prolific. We had pigs running everywhere, and the voices calling from the goat pen seemed to be multiplying quickly. My wondrous plan of raising and finishing quality livestock had gone perfectly. There was one crucial detail missing however. Where, oh where, would I market all this meat!? Thousands and thousands of pounds of meat! My original intention of selling directly wasn't exactly feasible unless I wanted to spend all day, every day trucking meat around the province. Not very enjoyable with a rowdy toddler shouting driving advice to me from the backseat.

The other major issue was storage. Where would I keep thousands of pounds of meat frozen? My Dad and Uncle owned an empty commercial building right on main street in Caroline. I bought a couple of large deep freezes and asked the local Health Inspector to stop by and certify them so I could store and sell meat directly to customers via my website. The Health Inspector was a bit baffled. "You are in a retail space. Why don't you just unlock the door?" he asked innocently.

And this, my friend, is how the store was born.

Mark and I partnered with my parents, Dayle and Alice, and threw our backs into (well, my Dad may have thrown his back out) preparing the store for its grand opening immediately following the parade on Rodeo Weekend (also known as the Victoria Day long weekend to the rest of the world). My entire family including my brothers and "GG" (great grandma) pitched in to prepare our shop to market our pork, beef and goat. We then realized that it would be ideal if we could not only offer a better variety, but also help the local producer and support local agriculture by offering to market other farmer's products. We added locally grown, naturally raised bison, venison, veal, chicken, turkey, duck, rabbit, lamb, cheese, spices and sauces to our product line. We also decided it would be fantastic if we could sell some value-added products to customers, namely a gourmet hot sandwich made from our farm fresh meats. Hence the Ravenwood Rig Pig Pulled Pork, Slow Roasted Wrangler Beef and Slow Roasted Lumberjack Chicken sandwiches were born.

The store started off with a bang. It is funny looking back even just 11 months ago at how unprepared we were. We had no clue, but what we lacked in knowledge we made up for in enthusiasm! Our little business hummed right along through the summer under the management of a couple of employees. Mark was busy with his agriculture research, Mom and Dad were both busy with their "real" jobs in the oilfield and I was busy having Baby #2, a beautiful baby boy named Nathan with bright expressive eyes and the thickest thatch of ringlets you could imagine. As Fall drew near it was apparent that we needed to "go all in or go home" so to speak. It was apparent that the store needed the daily TLC of one of the owners to keept things running smoothly. Our potential was limitless, and exciting new possibilities of supplying gourmet restaurants revealed itself in the michevious plotting of our dear Kristie, the marketing mastermind. The partners took stock. Mom and Dad were busy with their good jobs and I was busy with the two little boys. It appeared that Mark had drawn the short straw and in November he resigned from his ag research job and came to work at the store and farm full time. We were thrilled to have him closer to home as it meant more family time. And more attention to the farm and animals during daylight hours was a godsend as well.

At the same time we decided that life was just getting a bit TOO comfortable, what with having reasonable hours, time for family and recreation. How could we spice things up? How about an expansion?

Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. (I am voting this our new motto, by the way).

We had been paying local meat processors heaping sacks of cash to process our meats for us. It made perfect sense to "go all in" and put in our own butcher shop. And while we were at it, we might as well add in a deli. And country cafe. And hey, wouldn't a bakery be fun? So over the Christmas "holiday" (ha ha, good word) we frantically enlisted every ablebodied member of our immediate family and cirlce of friends to knock down walls, put in plumbling, paint, build, saw, weld, laugh, cry and scream in frustration. In a few short weeks we expanded from a meagre little shop to a luxurious 3000 sq foot shrine to local food. We are happy to say that we are "thhhhhhhis close" to being done and launching our grand re-opening next weekend with a BANG! We are going to have a great time with free food, entertainment and a mechanical bull (you are going to have to drag me off of it!). Where do we go from here? Well, hopefully we keep on trucking :) Plans for the future include adding a line of farm fresh natural pet food, a goat dairy (I love my goats!), perhaps a well earned vacation somewhere warm and hopefully lots and lots of blissful rest. But first we have to get through calving, the rest of the renovations, kidding, fencing, seeding, haying...you know, the usual. That is our story in a nutshell, as told by one of the head nuts. Please come out for a visit sometime. We are always here (day, night, midnight :) Call ahead and maybe we can do coffee! Looking forward to seeing your smiling face! Tam

This is my beautiful oldest boy, William, age 3 years old and very proud of our meat store. He's a real little farmer at heart.