STEINBACH, Man. – The Dirks kids run their hands over the long pine table in their
family’s comfortable kitchen, peering closely at marks made over time.
They find traces of their homework, words that passed through their notebooks and become
lightly etched into the soft table to-10-P.
Eight-year-old Stefan finds his Christmas wish-list from last year, the words “fish hook”
clearly evident in his neat printing.
This long table and a nearby kitchen island serve as the heart of Cal and Pauline Dirks’
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farm, a place where family comes first and work is part of a bigger picture.
On a recent visit, the kitchen fills with the just-out-of-the-oven smell of chocolate chip
cookies, whipped up by Jessica, 13, and Hali, 12.
After cookies and milk, the kids pull on their ski pants and skates and zip up and down a
narrow, frozen-over ditch running almost the length of the farm, south of Steinbach.
The farm is a unique shape, explained Cal, because of its origins.
His parents, Ed and Malinda Dirks, moved their family of six children to the area in the
early 1950s.
Ed, a carpenter, drove a school bus and worked at a hatchery on the side. For his wages, the
hatchery carved off a half-kilometre-long, 10-acre strip of land from its quarter-section.
In 1969, the hatchery needed farmers to raise young chickens for a new breed of laying hen,
and talked Ed and Malinda into building a pullet barn on their land. Pullet producers buy
day-old chicks and raise them until they are ready to lay eggs. There were no contracts and
supply management had not yet begun in the egg business.
“Looking back, it looks way riskier to us than it did to them,” said Cal.
For Cal and Pauline, raising pullets fits into the mix of providing for their family.
Life on a farm appealed to Pauline, who spent time living in Winnipeg and Steinbach, but
preferred country life. She grew up on a dairy farm in Dalmeny, Sask.
“To me, this (raising pullets) was a piece of cake compared to dairy,” she said.
Cal, 40, and Pauline, 39, got to know each other at Providence College, a Bible college in
nearby Otterburne, Man. After they married in 1983, Cal took over his dad’s bus route. He
worked part-time for his dad, raising pullets, and for his uncle, an egg producer.
When Ed started dropping hints about
wanting to ease off on the workload, Cal and Pauline looked into buying the farm. They
wanted to buy the farm outright to give Ed his freedom.
“He had carried all that risk. I just didn’t want him to carry the risk on our behalf,” said
Pauline.
Starting out was difficult. The Dirks had little money saved and few assets. They were
expecting their first child. After they bought the farm, their quota was cut twice in two years.
Only recently have they been able to buy more quota and get back to the pullet numbers
they once had.
And they were inexperienced. When they had the chance to lock in interest rates under 10
percent, a bank manager convinced them a floating rate would save money in the long term.
The manager was probably right, said Cal. But in the short term, interest rates soared past
14 percent.
Off-farm income has always been part of their financial strategy.
“I don’t see that as a big issue, to have off-farm income,” Cal said.
The busiest times on the farm are when the chicks arrive and when they leave.
The kids prepare the barn, lining each of the 540 cages with paper so the tiny chicks don’t
get their feet stuck in the wire.
They adjust the cage walls and water cups to keep the chicks near the water that’s critical for
their survival during the first few days. There’s a job for everyone. Six-year-old Emily runs
around opening and closing cages for her sisters and brother. The kids help unload the
precious cargo into the barn, where Cal raises the temperatures to 33 C to ensure the chicks
aren’t chilled.
“It feels like Florida weather in there,” said Jessica, describing how the kids run to the barn
in their shorts when the chicks arrive in winter.
The kids also help count batches of chicks to ensure all 26,000 have arrived.
For the next 10 days, the kids change the papers in the cages until the chicks’ feet and hocks
have grown. Emily makes sure the water cups stay full by poking a trigger in the bottom of
each of the 1,620 cups.
After the pullets leave for egg producers’ farms, Cal scours the barn down to the last stray
feather. Disease control is critical.
Ed and Malinda, who have retired on the farm, still help during busy times. They keep an
eye on the birds in summer when Cal and Pauline and the kids go on vacation.
The family’s favorite summer spot is the camper they keep in the Whiteshell region, two
hours away, where they fish, boat and relax.
Down time can be unpredictable on the farm. Pullets arrive twice a year, and stay in the barn
for 19 weeks.
“What we’re always up against is aligning ourselves with the egg producer who does his
flock change once a year,” said Cal. He gets help with the logistics of matching pullet flocks
to egg barns from Puratone Cor-10-P., a feed company in Niverville, Man.
The farm has had a long-standing relationship with Puratone, which also supplies its feed.
For the past six years, Cal also has represented the province’s 14 pullet producers on the
board of Manitoba Egg Producers. It’s been a raucous time in the national supply
management system and also on the provincial scene.
“The whole political side is quite intriguing,” he said.
These days, when Pauline fires up the computer to work on the books she maintains for the
farm, the Dirks find satisfaction in the progress they have made reducing their debt over the
decade.
Their next big challenge lies in taking on more debt. Their cages are 26 years old, and have
exceeded their normal life span only because of meticulous care.
Buying more efficient cages will likely mean expanding the number of pullets they grow,
perhaps by 25 percent.
But the Dirks are wary of expansion. Pauline explained the farm is not just a farm, but a
part of their family, which is involved in a church and a community. If the farm takes more
time, the other pieces of the puzzle that make up their lives will suffer.
“I always say if our family (time) outside of work becomes less, than that expansion or that
extra income isn’t worth it.”
