Back in high school, I had a teacher who nearly lost her mind over a bad smell in the classroom. She wrinkled her nose, sniffing the air like a bloodhound, then suddenly ordered everyone into the hallway. The whole class stood there, confused, while she ranted about the unbearable stench.
At first, I didn’t think much of it—until I looked down. My boots were caked in cow manure.
That morning, before school, I had checked my trap line, walking through the fields like I always did. I hadn’t even realized I’d tracked it into class.
The teacher, clearly horrified, pointed straight at me. “Go to the office and ask for another pair of shoes,” she commanded, as if the school kept a stockpile of farm boots in the lost-and-found.
I didn’t argue. I just walked out, climbed into my truck, and left.
Looking back, I imagine most kids would’ve been embarrassed. But I wasn’t. Because she didn’t understand my life—the early mornings, the hard work, the way we lived off the land. To her, muddy boots were a mess. To me, they were a sign of honest work, a life well-lived.
I think about that teacher now, especially with food shortages and rising prices. I wonder if she’s ever realized the value of people like me—the ones who grow, raise, and hunt their own food.
See this? This is my family’s 1950s eight-foot freezer, packed with beef, pork, venison, rabbit, chicken, and fish. If you tried to buy this much meat at the grocery store, it’d run you over $2,000—if you could even find it. The only money I spent? Packaging.
I’m not sharing this to brag. I’m sharing it because, in tough times, people need to understand something: the guy with the beat-up truck and muddy boots isn’t the one struggling.
Next time someone asks to hunt on your land, maybe trade some venison with them. Don’t shame hunters for taking an animal’s life—because hunters respect those animals more than any slaughterhouse ever will. That meat? It’s as organic as it gets.
Instead of complaining about your neighbor’s rooster waking you up, why not ask them for some eggs? Chances are, they’d be happy to hand you a dozen.
Support local farmers. Shop at farmers’ markets. These folks know how to butcher, package, and store their meat properly. You’ll get clean, chemical-free food straight from the source.
Teach your kids to plant a garden. Show them how to care for animals. Take them fishing. And if you don’t know how? YouTube is free. That cousin who won’t stop talking about hunting season? Get him some ammo and ask him to teach your kids. He’d love to help them harvest their first deer.
At the end of the day, it all comes down to this: Be good to each other. Stop acting like you’re better than the person next to you. Help your neighbors. Ask for help when you need it. Learn new skills. And stop waiting on the government to save you.
You’ve got this. Get up and do it yourself.
