pet connection

I have a handful of New Year’s resolutions for 2010, all of which remain in play:

1) Get more actively involved in supporting farmers and ranchers who practice humane, sustainable agriculture;

2) Score a major magazine cover piece and another NYT best-seller (both out of my hands, but still … );

3) Work less;

4) Spend more time outside, especially working the dogs.

I’m sure you’ve all noticed that if I manage Nos. 1, 2 and 4, I will almost certainly not manage No. 3. And really, I’m OK with that, especially considering that I’m not sure I know how to work any less than I do, anyway, and also because I love the work I do.

But I have started making good on Resolution No. 1, by hustling my desk-jockey fanny down to San Francisco over the weekend to do a volunteer shift for the food co-op I joined, thanks to Christie’s non-stop recommendations of what an incredible organization of more than 400 people it had become since its founding in 2003.

After spending a day there, I have no doubt that the organization is a miracle of volunteerism and idealism. But I also have no doubt that without one Kasie Maxwell, it wouldn’t exist. She is the heart, soul, backbone and brains of the operation, a non-stop whirlwind of efficient do-goodness who simply blew me away with her dedication and determination. Not to mention her exceptional neatness, a trait I usually find rather alarming, except that Kasie is warm-hearted enough make it seem endearing, not pathological.

Such is her nature that I know she wishes I hadn’t written the above paragraph. Too bad, Ms. Maxwell: It’s all true, and everyone who meets you knows it.

The co-op requires an annual membership fee that’s more than offset if you buy much food (meat, veggies, eggs, dairy, good food and a good deal for the feeding both of pets and people) as well as eight hours of volunteer labor a year.  Yes, San Francisco is a schlep for me (90 minutes best-case scenario, 3 hours or more if there’s an accident on I-80), but I’m down there fairly regularly anyway for everything from visiting Christie to covering something to getting ravioli in the old neighborhood (my late father’s, that is; I was born, regrettably, in Sacramento).

The co-op is housed in a neat little space formerly occupied by a fishmonger, and it’s a perfect set-up: Easy to get to from the freeway, the little warehouse has a freezer, a cooler, an office and a ground-floor set-up easy for getting items on and off trucks. Ample free parking, too, which as anyone who has been to San Francisco knows is  more dear than an apartment with a view of the Bay.

Since you never know how traffic will be, I got an early start leaving home on Saturday and arrived an hour early, about the same time Kasie did. Erika, the lead volunteer manager for our shift, arrived shortly thereafter, followed by three more volunteers. Our job that day was to load the truck with three pallets of orders heading to drop sites up the coast, to handle sales from the freezer, which is open for drop-in shopping a few days a month, and to clean and organize everything after we were done. The  receiving of goods from area farmers and ranchers, and the organizing and labeling of the orders had already been handled by Kasie and other volunteers earlier in the week.

After a tour and explanation of duties, Kasie handed me a stick and a broom, and set me to work knocking down loose ice in the freezer, pulling all the mats and sweeping all the ice and any other loose debris into either the drains or a dust pain. Later, when I took a load of frost down the front of my vest while moving a case of meat, I not only appreciated the importance of the work but also vowed to do a better job of it next time.

The other volunteers and I then started pulling the upstate orders out of the freezer and cooler, organizing them on handcarts while Erika double-checked our work. Then it was onto the refrigerated truck, where we tried to build the pallets “like Tetra,” as Kasie explained, and later watched with  no small measure of awe her masterful wrapping of the loaded pallets with heavy clear plastic.

Throughout the day, local members came by to pick up orders or shop from the freezer or the dry-goods rack. We checked prices, added up the cost and taxes, took checks and issued receipts. Kasie later does all the book-keeping, a job she does “unsustainably,” she notes, hoping the membership dues will one day support hiring the co-op’s only non-volunteer staffer.

The day’s work was lighter than normal, apparently, so we kicked loose three volunteers an hour or so early. Erika insisted Kasie take the rest of the afternoon off, too, especially since the between-storm weather made for an achingly lovely day in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Erika and I cleaned up, loaded up her order (for her and two other people in an area an hour away) and put my own shopping in my vehicle.

We then organized the freezer, cleaned the ice out again, swept the floor, wiped down the tables with disinfectant and emptied the coffee maker. I’m sure I missed a couple of things that I could have done, but oh heavens was I tired by then and I still had to drive home. While it’s not unusual for me to lift 40-50 pounds now and then (chicken feed, mostly), to do so non-stop for the better part of five hours is something I am not at all used to, and I figure the reason I wasn’t in pain the day after is that I remembered my safety training from the “day job” and lifted slowly and with careful, ergonomically sensible precision.

I’ve got another shift to work to fulfill my commitment, but I hope to find time to work even more than that. The camaraderie was good, and the cause is important. And there are always those New Year’s resolutions to remember.

Not to mention: After I bemoaned on Facebook that my pets were getting all the good stuff, Kasie told me that the front freezer contains human grade meat and other products from the same good ranchers and farmers. I’m going to have to get some of that, next trip. Why should the pets have all the benefit? I’m taking some of my own eggs back, too, not to sell but just to share. The co-op has an egg vendor, but my girls don’t produce enough to interfere with her. It’s a small bonus to anyone who drops by that day.

For more information on SF Raw, which is about a lot more than San Francisco or raw feeding, visit their Web site. With more members, Kasie can get a bookkeeper!

Images: What can I say? I love my iPhone!