Last week, I shared the news that we had decided to close the co-packing (processing for others) division of our processing plant, Widnor Meats. Afterward, rumors started circulating through some Facebook groups, and I wanted to address them directly. The plant itself is not closing, nor is the farm or the chicken side of our operation. We are simply closing the schedule to outside farms for 2026, and we do not yet know what the future will hold beyond that.

In January, I took a long, hard look at the processing plant’s final numbers for the year and had a nagging feeling that it was not in our best interest to continue operating the co-packing division. But my stubborn nature refused to admit defeat, even though I was feeling completely burnt out.

That being said, I wanted to share some background behind this decision, because this kind of insight can be eye opening to those who are not in the industry or to those who hope to build something similar themselves. Some of the lessons I learned may be useful to someone else.

Our family owns and operates multiple enterprises. From the processing plant, to the livestock and land, to the retail store and agritourism including dinners and events, each of these takes time and energy to bring to life, but some are significantly more profitable than others. While the processing plant’s co-packing division was technically in the black, it could not afford to hire out the logistics, planning, scheduling, and accounting. I was still responsible for all of that. Last year, that meant I spent a lot of time on my computer and in the office as a manager, and a lot less time doing the farming work that I actually love.

My dream, for as long as I can remember, was to spend my days with animals, specifically horses and cattle. I worked extremely hard during my adult years to make that a reality, and now that I am a 40 year old living out that dream, I am fiercely protective of the energy I spend on things that pull me away from it. Time is a currency I am no longer willing to spend on projects that do not align with that goal. While I have loved serving other farmers and cheering them on, it hit me hard last year when summer was over and I realized I had spent a significant portion of it stuck behind a computer running payroll, billing, and accounting. I had literally ridden my horses, the ones I spent my whole adult life working to afford, just twice.

You would think that was the tipping point, but it was not.
This was.

I raise high quality food for a living, a career that began with the simple desire to feed my family the best. But I had spent so much time serving others that I was not even spending time cooking at all. I was feeding everyone else before I was feeding myself. As the saying goes, you cannot pour from an empty cup. My cup was not just empty. It was bone dry.

Our processing plant is a vital part of our operation. Poultry helps us maximize our profits per acre, and the shorter production cycle helps us financially carry the long investment required for beef production. Quite literally, poultry is what pays our bills. When co-packing accounts for only about 20 percent of the plant’s operational revenue while poultry makes up roughly 40 percent of the farm’s total revenue, I also had to look at the risk of the wear and tear on the equipment we rely on to do our own work. If that equipment were to fail, the co-packing division barely made enough to replace it, but that same equipment is critical to the survival of the farm itself.

We could open the schedule further and do more to increase co-packing revenue, but that does not change the fact that this is still our home. Our line of work means we do not get days off, and we have no desire to hire out the farming side of things just so we can become managers who sit at computers all day. What we do get are small windows of quieter days here and there, and scaling the plant further would mean giving up even those.

We put everything we have into these operations, our heart and soul literally feeding others. Without any downtime, we were running ourselves ragged, and right now we have to prioritize what actually keeps the lights on.

Last fall, we had the opportunity to buy out a retiring beef farmer’s operation locally. This gives us long term stability against fluctuating feed costs, along with great genetics and additional land to operate. With this change, we will be making all of our own forage, which means we will spend substantial time during the growing season in a tractor preparing feed for winter while also grazing a few hundred cows on rotating pastures. It is a big undertaking.

The final straw was this.
The co-packing division of our processing plant is the least profitable enterprise we operate. When I had to decide what needed to be scaled back so Ryan and I were not working from sunup to sundown every single day of our short summer, something had to give.

While I am sad to have made this decision, I know it is the right one for our family, for our farm, and for the livestock in our care.

To all the farmers this affects, please know this decision was not made lightly. We are incredibly thankful that you trusted us over the last two years to help bring your product to your customers’ tables, and we truly wish you the best going forward.

With love,
Brianna