Nonprofit Work is a Lot Like Farming - Who Knew?

In 2001 I was working for a non-profit agency as an administrative assistant. Not too stressful, predictable hours, the adoration of everyone in the office when I fixed the copier jam for the 20^th time that day, and able to spend a lot of my time putting together craft project like giveaways to recognize the volunteers that the development staff worked with. Pretty smooth gig.

Then, in 2008, I decided to upset everything and join the ranks of the development crew in this same nonprofit agency. Looking around every corner for the next funding opportunity, hearing the word “no” more times than I like to count, working obscene hours and driving for miles – it was a fun job but after so many “no’s” I started to despise what I was doing. A few more hops and skips with some other nonprofit agencies in the development field and I entered doing database work for yet another agency.

That lasted a whole three and a half years behind a desk. I missed being out in the community and doing “boots on the ground” work, but I didn’t want to hear the word “no” again. So, after an opportunity presented itself back in my hometown to work more closely with the clients being served – I said “yes”.

In between all of these job hopping opportunities, I started the farm and suddenly realized that the salary of a nonprofit employee doesn’t quite cover so many mouths to feed, keeping the lights on, paying the property taxes, fuel, and all of the other expenses that come with having that parcel of land in the country. Thus, Purple Shamrock Farm became a business and I started making I.P.A. Bites dog treats.

The I.P.A. Bites haven’t quite taken off as quickly as I would like, though folks who so wonderfully support me keeping saying that one day they will, but I laugh because now I hear the word “no” again just as before when I was trying to earn that almighty dollar to support the mission work of my employing agency.

Just as before though, I cannot let it get me down and I can’t let that one “no” stop me from wanting to move forward. In my previous work, Executive Directors would offer me a goal and then watch to see if I would make it or not. If I did, I was rewarded with praise and if not – offered the chance to try again and come up with an alternate plan to meet that goal. 

While I don’t have an Exec. Director to help lead me in my quest to make the farm a success, I do have my friends and family to urge me on and my own critical thinking to realize when I don’t meet the goals I have set. I still hear the word “no”, but now it’s a different mindset – one that I’m in control of and you can bet that I’m going to try my hardest to make it a success. The farm’s future depends on it.

The Biscuit Story - Or, How the Biscuits got their bite!

In the late summer of 2017, I was rejoicing that I had survived a full season on the farm. The heat had somewhat subsided and I was starting to settle into a groove. Having worked hard all season, caring for birds and attempting to grow a garden, I decided to join some friends and attend the annual fundraising concert put on by Our Hospice in Columbus, Indiana, during Labor Day weekend. My thoughts were to sit back in the picturesque landscape of Mill Race Park there in Columbus and perhaps enjoy a few adult beverages with no worries for a few hours. 

As my group arrived, we dug into our coolers and began to lazily sip beer beverages – waiting for the headliner band that night, Blue Öyster Cult to take the stage. Funny now to realize that the band’s name came from an anagram of “Cully Stout Beer” after reading that the origins of that name came from a 1960’s poem written by their manager, Sandy Pearlman. Little did I know in those brief moments how much my life would change.

Have you ever seen the movie “Back to the Future” where Marty McFly’s parents have to attend the “Fish Under the Sea Dance” to fall in love and thus produce Marty? Yeah, it was kind of like that only without the whole Biff thing. If I hadn’t been where I was at that specific time, I wouldn’t be telling the biscuit story.

I was settled quite comfortably in my lawn chair when a friend walked up and asked if I had met this guy who was going to be brewing beer in Seymour in just a few weeks. I said I’d love to meet him and then found out that he wanted to know if my chickens would want the spent grain for extra feed. Knowing that this would absolutely help my feed bill and also be a pretty cool thing to be a part of, I said yes and he and I started talking.

He, Ritch, told me that the pizza place in town, Brooklyn Pizza Company, was going to be opening Seymour Brewing Company in just a few weeks (after the red tape of the licensing passed through) and that he’d love to give me the spent grain to feed to the chickens so that he didn’t have to throw it away.

We chatted for a bit and I found that his wife was one of my very good friend’s kid’s pediatrician and also that we were in the same high school class in Seymour. After some additional pleasantries, we both headed back to our respective groups and I anxiously awaited the text from him that said that the grain was ready for pick-up.

Two weeks later, I got my first notification and arrived at the back of the restaurant/bar to find three 5 gallon buckets that had to have weighed 50/60lbs. each. Curious, I lifted the lid of one of the buckets and saw the grain. Cool! The smell that accompanied the grain wasn’t unpleasant as I’d heard others say it was – it was earthy and warm. I guess that was a good thing now that I think back- as my car started to carry a hint of the smell and started to stick to my clothing. Needless to say, that made me not so popular with the office that I was working in at the time. Haha.

I took the buckets home and carried them to the chicken coop. Knowing that three buckets would be WAY too much grain for the 5 birds that I had, I gave one bucket to the birds who eagerly started gobbling it up and took the other two buckets to the garden to start composting into the ground for next year’s yield.

A few days later, Ritch contacted me again with another three buckets available. I was now faced with the dilemma on figuring out what I was going to do with this grain as the chickens hadn’t eaten but a portion of what I had dumped in days earlier.

I couldn't stop accepting the grain because I didn’t want to lose that relationship with being a part of something that was going to be huge in my tiny small town. With this determination I took those three buckets and put them on the garden plot.

My garden is quite large so it definitely can handle the leavings of a small brewing operation, but I wanted something more for the grain.

One morning, as I was getting ready for work the idea hit me. Hey, can’t spent brewing grains be used for doggy treats? I grabbed my phone as I was brushing my teeth and went to Google to search.

Sure enough, there were recipes available that worked the pungent grains into treats that dogs loved and that were good for them. I decided on a peanut butter recipe and that night went to work creating the first batch of spent brewing grain dog treats.

My dogs went crazy for them that first night so I took treats to work the next day and had those coworkers try them on their pooches. The reports came back that the pups loved them. Thus, I.P.A. Bites were born.

After a few more trials and a lot of errors and the challenge of coming up with a name that was catchy and tied back to its roots of beer (the term "pupper" was one of my favorites), the I.P.A. Bites are now in local stores, had their first showing in Indianapolis this past summer and were sold at the Indiana State Fair and, most exciting, were recently recognized by a well known public state figure. That's right, the Governor of Indiana's dog, Henry Holcomb, has enjoyed these treats. It's honestly one of my favorite pics. that I've received.

I've since increased the flock to allow me to feed all three buckets of spent brewing grain to the birds at one time, several times a week - but I still hold back a small bit to make the well liked treats. It's good for the environment and helps pay those farm bills that regular work just can't do.

I.P.A. Bites - Incredible. Pupper. Appetizers. - your dog's own Happy Hour!