Inflation reached a record level in Canada, at 6.8% in April. Behind the figures, there are humans who suffer the consequences. But not everyone is equal in the face of the rising cost of living. Second portrait of a series on the faces of inflation.
It is an idyllic corner of the country, where nature offers itself in spectacle: the blue sky which settles on the relief of the Appalachians, the dandelions in tight rows which flower the green fields, the smell of hay which tickles the nose , the song of the birds which lulls the ear. Saint-Lazare-de-Bellechasse takes its time. There’s no need to rush when life, like here, flows to the rhythm of the seasons.
However, the panicking economy in New York, Frankfurt, London or Shanghai is having its tremors felt to the end of the dirt roads that criss-cross this landscape. Rising prices force, here as elsewhere, sometimes bitter choices, often painful sacrifices.
This is the case at the Mille Fleurs farm, the dream that Sylvie Gauthier and Jacob N. Hudon have been cultivating since 2011 in Saint-Lazare. Breeding, at home, is done in harmony with nature. Their Highland cows graze in the field under the shade of the apple trees; their pigs live and feed in the forest, almost in the wild. Each animal bears its nickname: there is Chanel, the coquette with the white coat; Romeo, the huge black boar; Noël, the little calf born on December 25…
However, the herd must have shrunk last month. “With the increase in everything, hay, diesel, plastic… I had to sell two-thirds of my herd,” laments Jacob. A “heartbreaking” decision, he admits, but which became necessary: while prices took off everywhere, his profits remained on the floor of the cows.
“The shortage of labor is also striking, underlines Jacob. Our slaughterhouse is understaffed, and costs are rising for them as well. The flour mill with which we do business is also affected by the price of fuel oil and cereals, so many things that are played out on the stock market… The other dittos, they had a rise. »
” It does not work anymore “
He and Sylvie have long resisted the urge to pass on the cost of inflation to their customers. This kindness slowly but surely eroded their bottom line.
“We had to work at a loss for a nasty bit! It was this year that we calculated and realized that, tabarnouche, it’s not going there, it doesn’t work anymore, ”recalls Jacob.
This big guy with a Scandinavian look and a straight back like an oak seems built to support many burdens without flinching. The rise in the cost of living has succeeded in bringing it down.
“A month ago, we were wondering if we were continuing or if we were giving up,” he says. Sylvie and Jacob decided to continue the Mille Fleurs adventure despite the long working hours and the financial headaches made worse by inflation. By sacrificing part of their herd, they managed to reduce their expenses. Before, you had to spend $70 a day to feed the livestock. “Today, it must cost me $15 a day to keep my animals. Instead of passing a bale and a half of hay daily, I put one in every four days. It’s a big saving,” says Jacob. “It gives a little breath to pay Hydro and insurance…”
It’s also less diesel burned in the machinery. “Before, what did I wear? About $150 worth of fuel a month in my tractor? Now I’m doing two weeks with it. I really try to cut back because that’s what saves us money. »
Rising prices also require departing from a few principles. For the well-being of their sows, Jacob and Sylvie wanted to give them rest between two pregnancies. A luxury they can no longer afford.
“Instead of giving them a break of two or three months between each litter, we will give them a break one month. They’ll be visiting the male a little more regularly, Jacob says reluctantly. It was an animal welfare issue, but at some point…”
The mouths to be fed must produce: to get through these inflationary turbulences, everyone on the farm must do their part.
Gasoline prices
With a now small herd, the Mille Fleurs farm is directing its business model towards agritourism. When passing the To have toJacob was also putting the finishing touches to a new food court that will sell the products simmered by Sylvie.
Sausages, meatballs or skewers: here too, prices have gone up. The cost of hog casings alone has doubled lately. “A boiler costs me $400 when it cost me $200 before. I freaked out a bit the last time I placed my order,” explains Sylvie. The shopping necessary for his cooking is often done in Lévis or Québec. It is therefore necessary to travel a hundred kilometers to find them, a major expense when the price of gasoline is breaking a new record every week.
They fear, more than anything, that this overpriced fuel will discourage customers from the cities. “It worries me a lot to be far from the big centers, repeats Jacob. I’m not really more expensive than a specialty butcher, I try to keep myself cheaper as much as I can, but there are always the superchains out there. You can’t hit them. »
Uncertain about their income, Jacob and Sylvie cut their expenses to a minimum — as did their ambitions. “We had great plans this year,” they sigh. Many will have to fall by the wayside while waiting for inflation to run out of steam. Exit, therefore, the expansion of the children’s play module. Forgotten, the outdoor marquee capable of receiving large groups, even in bad weather. Gone too, the new snowmobile that Jacob dreams of: his “old zézétte”, as he calls his 2006 Ski-doo less and less affectionately, will have to survive another winter.
Jacob also gave up a part-time job as a truck driver this year in order to take a breather and have the time to watch his three children grow up. “We even took the guess to engage someone with the rest of us,” he explains. Less stable cash flow and more salary to pay. “It’s all business that stresses me out,” says Jacob. You have to calculate everything, everything, everything. »
After ten years on the farm, Jacob and Sylvie now enjoy a certain recognition, which pushes them to cultivate their dream. Headlong, they have swallowed tens of thousands of dollars to convert their business to agrotourism. We had to build a restaurant, develop the terrace, enlarge the septic tank to receive “perhaps 150, 200 more pipis per week”, explains Jacob.
The last decade has brought them joys and many worries, but has also led them to a conclusion. At the dawn of his forties, Jacob realizes that hard work and sweat are less and less the path to financial independence in our time.
“I’m 40 years old, I’m looking at people who are starting out in life, they have two new tanks, the house, they have the yard paved the first year… How are you doing, esti? »
The answer will wait: you have to go back to sawing boards to finish the terrace. In the hope that once it is built, tourists will come…