Holiday Tales

My darling husband, Bud and I (and Belle) just arrived back from a pleasant visit to Boston to see my folks and brothers.  It was great fun to catch up with everybody in the middle of a blizzard.  We managed to see the Nutcracker (Bud enjoyed the production, but he was a little shocked to see the Nutcracker in such tight white tights), go sledding, venture out using the T (Boston's public transportation system) which Bud loved, and visit the Harvard Musuem of Natural History which not only has the unique glass flower collection, but is also a taxidermist's haven.  I could have spent all day looking at the glass flowers (they really do look absolutely real--you could never tell they were made from glass) but Bud was enjoying looking at all the stuffed animals.  Darling husband was interested to see if I would write a post about how the Rich White Man was able (Is Still Able?) to go to Exotic Places and Exploit their Resources and bring back Specimens to Stuff, but I think that is a post that deserves its own space, which is not right now.

The blizzard dumped about a foot of snow in the city of Cambridge.  It is curious to witness how city people deal with snow.  True, there really is no place to put it.  And the plows really do plow in cars that are parked on the streets.  The four adults in our party spent a good hour digging out the cars mid-morning.  But walking the dog as the sun was setting, there were still folks just starting to attempt the chore.  While there were some conentiuous moments in the neighborhood about the legality of "saving" dug out parking spaces with lawn chairs, trash cans etc (and the city of Boston does have a law on the books saying that one has 48 after the snow emergency ends to remove lawn chairs from parking spaces), it was heartening to see a group of teenangers walking around offering to help shovel out folks. 

One of the highlights of the visit, aside from the storm, was a drawing for my older brother's canned goods that he and his fiancee canned last summer.  I myself freeze or dry more than can (something about not having a lot of time or patience prevents me from canning much), but Bro and his sweetheart canned cherries, made ketchup, peach butter, tomato sauce, apple butter, pickles from summer squash, among other goodies.  Last year, they sent us canned vegetable bouillion, relish and peaches. I am truly envious of all their preserving.  His sweetheart also works for a botanical soap company out in Montana so we now have organic soap to last all year (did you think we smelled that bad?!) and our own soap making kit in case we run out!  You can check out her soap here.

My younger brother was also very thoughtful and supplied me with an awesome pair of moutaineering gloves from Eddie Bauer (I could actually care less about where they come from as long as they keep my hands warm). They are probably the most high-tech pair of gloves I've seen, let alone owned, and are made of leather (including little grippy things) but obviously include a super warm lining and there is even a "snot band" on the thumb to wipe away that 5:30am cold snot (yes, it happens).  I have never climbed a real mountain (I stick with big hills), but I'm thinking if these gloves can keep a moutaineer warm, they can keep me warm doing the morning feedings.   

Since my darling husband and I bought each other a fully functional door for Christmas along with two storm doors and some professional weatherstripping (our farmhouse has 5 entrances), we didn't really exchange gifts.  My parents were thoughtful enough to give us a deep dish pie/quiche dish, which is fabulous, since I only have an apparently very small pie dish.  Quiche is usually a mainstay in the family (and apple pie is a dessert staple in the fall when we have oodles of apples), although now our chickens have stopped laying and we no longer have a supply of eggs.  Luckily, the Natural Foods store down the road does.  Along that line, it looks like we're going to dispatch most of our hens this weekend (the Buff Orpingtons were originally a friend's and I promised we wouldn't send them to "camp" so they will stay along with the rooster).  As my darling husband says, it may be an ominious way to start the New Year but you have to take advantage of the warm weather when we have it.

As we head towards the dusk of this year and the dawn of another, I will not burden you with reflections of the past or resolutions for the future.  I wish everyone a blessed New Year and to remember the words of Julian of Norwich,  "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well."

The Story of Cricket

It's only Wednesday, but it has felt like it should be Friday since Monday (does that make sense?).  We continue to have two to four inches of snow daily--enough to stress out my Civic (and me) on the drive to school, but not enough to actually have a snow day.  Last week, when we were also get a few inches of snow every day, I didn't think to clear the collected ice from "Cricket's" tires (yes, we name our cars...more on that later).  Our home is situated in such a way that I turn out of the driveway onto an incline on a County Highway.  Cricket was not happy about the snow and ice in its tires (the car is androgynous) and was difficult to control.  I thought I could get to the church two miles down the road to pull over and clear the tires, but I ended up spinning out (right next to a student's home).  Fortunately, there was no traffic in the other direction, I didn't hit anything, and I was able to clear out the ice and move on.  Now, I religiously check the tires each morning. 

Cricket is in its 13th year.  I purchased the car when I was 19, it survived my 20s and is still chugging along. Its original name was "Death Star" due to the two burns in its roof. No, not due to a cigarette (I've never smoked) but to a concave mirror.  I had gone to borrow a few supplies from a fellow teacher when I was first starting out, include a 12 inch concave mirror.  It happened to be a bright spring day and, as I casually placed the mirror in my car, I never thought about possible consequences.  Coming back to the parking lot after picking up some more equipment I opened the door and exclaimed in a not so casual voice, "Gee, what is burning?!"  I looked up and saw that a good patch of the roof upholstery was smoldering.  I did make the connection quickly, and turned the mirror upside down.  For several years in the mid-2000s, the car was known as "Death Star". 

Currently, Cricket has about 170,000 miles on it.  For a couple years due to a broken hood latch and a check engine light that never turned off I didn't drive it beyond a 30 mile radius.  But after a considerable 12th year tune-up (done in installments throughout the course of last year), I wouldn't hesitate to drive it across country (in fair weather).  The car gets great mileage, and is really quite reliable.  It is a standard and as of yet I have not had to replace the clutch. I also have been lucky enough not to have to replace the timing belt. 

My darling husband and I keep saying, year after year, what are we going to do when Cricket dies?  Would we get a pick-up truck so we can transport our animals and farm supplies more easily?  Do we get another compact car (or even a sub-compact?) because we've managed this long without a truck (thanks to gracious friends and neighbors)?  Do we forgo a second vehicle all together (it is possible!)?  I used to be very practical about Cricket's demise.  I had hoped for it to get me through grad school (in 2006).  Now that it has exceeded all expectations, I actually am becoming quite sentimental.  I believe I may be at the point where I will have a difficult time knowing when to "pull the plug".  Cricket has long been paid off and the insurance is minimal at this point.  How much am I willing to spend on its continual survival?  I suppose, at this point, only time will tell!   

Playing with textiles

It's been a retatively quiet week in our small hamlet.  The students are getting excited for the Christmas season and are losing focus, but that is to be expected.  We had four continous days of lake effect snow but, to the chargrin of the students, school was never cancelled. I think we ended up with well over a foot of snow, although much of it is currently getting washed away by the rain. 

On Friday evening, we went out for a celebratory dinner with a friend who just got tenured at one of the colleges in the area.  He's an art history professor and we began to talk about what constitutes art.  We were talking about textiles and folk art, which was particuarly timely as my three bags of wool (no joke!) were sent back to me cleaned and carded, awaiting spinnning and knitting (more on this later). A thesis student of our friend got asked the question (during her defense on samplers) about whether samplers were really pieces of art.  She was able to defend that they are, and thus one would think that quilts and other textiles would also fall into that category.  Extending that, we could say that hand-crafted furniture is as well.  Then we got thinking to what is actually displayed at art musuems such as the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the MFA etc. and really, are those coats of armor art?  Are the arrowheads art?  The coins?  The mummies?  We can expand it futher... Is cooking art? It is called the culinary arts after all.  But wait, cooking is a science, isn't it?  I mean, there is a procedure and the whole idea behind cooking are the chemical reactions that occur when various ingredients are combined under various conditions.  We simply agreed that western academia is way too specialized and doesn't appreciate the interdisciplinary nature of the real world.

For the rest of the weekend I was working on the art (or science) of wool.  I don't have a working spinning wheel nor any experience spinning, but I do have a drop spindle, and I've been experiementing with techniques to get the best quality yarn.  So far, I haven't had a huge amount of success.   The resulting yarn is certainly knittable, but it's chunky and varies in thickness, so at this point probably only good for making scarves and hats. This winter, I am looking forward to working with some spinners in the area as well as fixing my own spinning wheel.   

In direct opposition with my primitive yarn making, my darling husband and I took a trip to Thistle Hill Weavers on Saturday as they were having an Open House.  The mill is located in the middle of nowhere but we were pleasantly surprised to find the place packed with other like-minded folk.  The mill specializes in 17th, 18th, and 19th century reproductions of fabric and carpet.  We had no clue what to expect, but left with a much greater appreciation of the process that goes into making fabric.  The looms are automated, but setting them up to make the fabric literally takes days, between creating the warp, getting the warp beam set up (and individually knotting hundreds of threads) and creating the chain (in some cases, a punch card of sorts) that will "read" and "translate" the pattern to the loom (nonautomated looms require multiple foot pedals to translate the pattern, a process which can look eerily similar to playing the organ). The finished products are beautiful, obviously made with care, and will last forever.  The website has some movie clips showing parts of the process.

From Thistle Hill Weavers

The mill produces fabric for historical fims, including my favorite non-Austen mini-series John Adams. They also provided fabric for Titanic, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, There Will Be Blood, Narnia, and many others.  As noted in previous posts, I am a huge fan of the early 19th century, and I had fleeting visions of redecorating our home with these gorgeous textiles.  Yes, they are functional (my darling husband was certainly eyeing the wool blankets while I was looking at stair runners) but they are truly pieces of art as well.

The Holiday Circus

I grew up loving the festive traditions of Christmas.  Long after I outgrew Santa, I still forced my brothers to put on cookies and milk with me;  I insisted on building gingerbread houses, decorating them (and later demolishing them);  I worked in the kitchen baking cut-out cookies and frosting them; I made sure all of the white lights went up outside the house and that the tree inside had the multi-colored lights on it.  We had to get an Advent (okay, it was not really an Advent, but a month of December) candle and watch it burn down each evening with anticipation.  Christmas morning, even when I came home after college, we never went downstairs until my father had checked to make sure everything was all set up (actually, that wasn't so difficult in our adult years, as it was my dearest mother who ended up waking up her children at 8am so that presents could be opened).  I have fond memories of all of this. And for a while I tried to recreate these traditions in my own household.  Our first year at the farm (with just a horse and few chickens we couldn't really call it a farm), we were going to construct a  10-foot diameter wreath to hang on the north side of our barn, so that people driving out of the valley could see it.  We never got to that, but for the first three Christmases I wrapped our porch in real garland that I had made, illuminating it with lights;  I put swags over the doorways; I dressed up the mantle with Santas (sent with love from my mom); I insisted we all put up and decorate the tree; I made dozens of cookies--not just the cut-out kind--and breads; I found the perfect family picture and ordered Christmas cards; and I felt constantly out of breath and bewildered.   

Last year, I simply did not get around to putting up the lights, and guess what? Nobody really noticed.  The Christmas spirit was not dampened a bit.  We had a great holiday party with good friends and good food, and the interior of the house was still lovingly decorated.  This year, in a conscience effort not to buy into the insane amount of commercialism that surrounds this time of year, I have compiled a list of "yays" and "nays" for our holiday season.

Nay to:

• Black Friday, Small Business Saturday, and Internet Monday shopping days (and all other shopping days that are "planned" by the industry)
• Christmas cards (it's a waste of paper as all the cards get thrown out anyway; and I can write little note cards to those I truly want to stay in contact with)
• excessive gift exchanges
• the Christmas tree (we are putting some lights on our shefflera as shown in the photo above; we thought this one might bother Bud, but he's cool with it)
• the outdoor lights and garland
• hosting a Christmas party (we may again in the future)
• the December candle and calendar (falsely advertised as "Advent" candles and calendars, but rarely does Advent actually begin on December 1st!)
• the "I feel obligated to decorate...to bake...to buy..." mentality

Yay to:

• Advent wreaths at church
• Candlelight Evening at the 19th century historical museum in town
• caroling with the students
• listening to traditional holiday music on XM radio
• indoor decorating with Santas on the mantle, various Christmas linens and accents; stockings
• candles on the windowsill (these almost didn't make it up, but alas it was snowing this evening, and the whole winter wonderland bit...)
• Christmas kerchief on the hound (sorry Belle)
• Christmas cookies and goodies
• Christmas Eve service
• Spending a wonderful Christmas Day with my family

Some may call me a Scrooge or a Grinch, but it's not celebrating Christmas that bothers me; it's the huge amount of consumerism that has sneakily found its way into the holiday over the past 1/2 century.  This is a time of faithful anticipation; a time of peace and joy; of spending time with family and friends. When one feels so consistently overwhelmed and bewildered because of the mile long "to-do" list that it is difficult to obtain that peaceful feeling, something ought to give.  It's okay to change your family traditions.  It's okay to step back and trim all of the excesses from your holiday season. 

May you and yours have a healthy, happy and less hectic holiday season.

All Things Austen

My family (at least some of them) and my friends know I have slight Jane Austen obsession.  I have read all of her novels (she only completed six) at least once, and have tackled at least 6 different editions of Pride and Prejudice (annotated, updated, with zombies and without). One of my girlfriends has even nicknamed me '97 after 1797 which is the year First Impressions (a.k.a Pride and Prejudice) was first unsuccessfully peddled to publishers and the year Austen first started to write what would become Sense and Sensability. 

This past weekend, having 48 hours to myself, and only needing to make sure the farm animals were fed and had clean water (without ice), I viewed two versions of Pride and Prejudice (1995 BBC miniseries and the Keira Knightley 2005? version) and the BBC Sense and Sensibility miniseries (I also spent my time in more productive ways such as doing the laundry, sorting through winter clothes, organizing finances, playing the piano and grading papers). 

Austen's stories are essentially the same; she's a bit of a formulaic writer, obviously by design.  I  know I am obsessed with Austen's novels because everything always works out beautifully in the end.  I also realize that at least half of the female population has this obsession, especially when I see the bookstore beach-read section devoted to Austen spin-offs (in addition to the real literature).  As someone once told me, "Don't we all want to find Mr. Darcy?!" (I was lucky to find someone pretty darn close).  The girl finally gets the guy of her dreams, and then...

Right, what then?  We never find out. All of Austen's novels end right after the guy gets the girl (or the girl gets the guy).  There's adventure and intrigue involved in getting to the point, but then the reader assumes everybody lives happily ever after.

But as we all know, life is simply not that straightforward. Relationships are hard work; marriage is hard work; raising children is hard work; jobs are hard work.  And some of the time all that hard work isn't that rewarding.  A Mr. Darcy or a Mr. Ferris or a Mr. Knightley is not going to come riding up on his white horse to save us from any or all of this, nor would we really want these fictional heroes to do that. 

Instead, I am a firm believer that life is what we make of it (sometimes I have difficulty practicing what I preach).  If we dwell on the negative aspects (the things we want, but can't have; the things that aren't working out) then we will never be satisfied with what we do have; we will always be continuing to search for the perfect world that Austen's heroines seem to end up in.  If, however, we take a moment and realize all the things that are going well, then life becomes that much more beautiful.  Simply having a moment at the end of a hectic day to immerse oneself into a Regency-era English romance, or browsing through the local bookstore with a loved one, or tucking your children in at night; all are little reminders that each day is full of bright moments to cherish.

Turkey Day

We respectfully dispatched seven of our turkeys (5 toms and 2 hens) this morning with the help of some dear friends.  My darling husband awoke at 5:45 to start the fire outside which we would use to scald the dispatched birds before plucking.  Today was also the opening of hunting season, so there were fellow neighbors also outside experiencing the drizzly predawn chill.  I fed the other farm animals, but kept them inside the barns so that they could not see any of the processing (although they obviously still sense it, and with the gun shots from the hunters, they were understandbly uneasy all day).  By 6:30, as first light was just appearing over the hill, our friend Doug arrived to help.  By 7:05, we had captured the first bird with relative ease.  The sage of our hamlet and a dear friend, Jim, showed up moments later (he has had significant experience doing this) and helped with the slaughtering.  Jim's wonderful wife (and a second mother to me) showed up around 8:45 with pecan Belgian waffle batter, coffee and sausage (which was from the pigs we raised this past summer).  By 9:30, when we took a break for breakfast, I believe we had processed 4 of the birds completely; by 11:30 the birds were all bagged, and the processing area was cleaned up.

The well-dressed bird is so much smaller than the living specimen.  What I had assumed was 9-15 lbs, was actually  6-13lbs.  You have to hand it to the survival of the fittest for the "fluffing up" that the turkeys are able to exhibit when they feel under attack.  The last hen we processed in fact, was smaller than some roasting chickens (she was also the easiest to pluck)!  These turkeys actually look more like chickens because they are heritage breeds and not the double breasted variety.  Dark and white meat are even proportioned with heritage breeds so overall it's a moister, earthier flavor.  Furthermore, unlike the butterball variety which has been bred so that they become so top heavy and large that their legs literally cannot support them, heritage breeds are active and agile (if not particularly smart).   To jump back onto my food economics soapbox, it is impossible to raise a healthy turkey, be able to sell it for 90 cents/lb and make any money.  You do the math.  Where are the hidden costs lurking?  Your health?  The demise of the family farm?  The environment? You can find out more about heritage turkeys by checking out The Heritage Turkey Foundation or the Ark of Taste at SlowFoodUSA.  

Aside from the birds, the only casualty was a significantly scraped forearm on me due to a turkey claw.  One of the toms escaped between being taken out of the pen and put into the killing cone.  Using the small amount of brain power he had, he ran towards the back of the barn, and actually "recaptured" himself in the chicken netting.  I was able to grab him, but he scratched me in the process.  After some serious scrubbing with hot, soapy water and applying a layer of neosporin (expiration:  2005?!) I'm hoping there will be no infection (there are days when I wish I had a few broad-spectrum antibiotics lying around). 

I also learned that my soon-to-be sister-in-law (yay!) was also butchering turkeys today out in Montana.  Last time they used a mobile processing unit (would like to have one of those in the area!) but apparently, they were doing it the old-fashioned way today as well.

Of Dirty Living and Rent-a-Rams

I finished Radical Homemakers over the weekend, and I'm looking forward to reading The Dirty Life by Kristin Kimball, an author who left the hectic life of NYC to work and live on a farm in Essex, NY.  The general idea of removing oneself from the extractive economy and towards a productive economy is powerful in my mind.  Honestly, I looked at the painted plywood counter tops in my kitchen the other night from a whole new perspective.  My counter tops are certainly functional and they don't really look that bad.  In fact, unless I point it out, people don't tend to notice. 

Whether this can be attributed to merely reading a book, or the alternative healing treatments I've been receiving, or a midlife crisis, my whole philosophy on enjoying life is not-so-subtly shifting. 

A friend just mentioned that there is a movie out, Affluenza, which I look forward to seeing.  Apparently, its basic premise is that affluence has become a disease.  Again, Shannon Hayes does a much better job at illustrating this whole idea in Radical Homemakers.  People simply aren't considering the hidden costs to living by the philosophy of always wanting/feeling they need more, more, more.  They're so focused on the destination, that they forget about the journey.  Our children are also trained in this idea, starting from the very beginning of their formal education.  Get good grades so you can go to college, and be successful (make a lot of money?).  Today, kids are in it all for the grades, not for the learning and they readily admit this to their teachers.

On a lighter note, our rent-a-ram, George, arrived yesterday.  We're breeding Tess, and two half sisters (one is Rachel's daughter, Velma the other Tess' Velveeta; both born in 2009).  "Auntie" Rachel who failed to get knocked up last year, is spending some quality girl time with the two ewe lambs from this year, far, far away from George.  Hopefully, Tess, Velma, and Velveeta will throw twins. This will mean our flock may double in size next year, and our lamb/wool operation could significantly increase.

Radical Homemaking

Luke was kind of curious about me taking the picture so he was crawling out of the basket as I took this shot.  I could tell you that the dynamic duo  are simply taking a break from all of their hard work on the farm, but in reality they've been lounging there all day.  Of course, they did just get spayed and neutered two days ago, so they may be feeling under the weather. 

I'm reading Radical Homemakers by Shannon Hayes (the link is to the right) and I'm absolutely enthralled.  There are so many facets to discuss, but I think if you visit Shannon's website, you'll get the basic ideas.  For anybody who is in the rat race and is frustrated with it, but can't see any viable alternatives, you may appreciate this new paradigm (and aside from believing in the four tenets of ecological sustainability, social justice, family and community, the only other commonality of the author's interviewees was that they could cook, so don't go saying that you can't because you don't farm, or you live in a city etc).  The quotation that hits home the most thus far is from Ellen Goodman:  Normal is getting dressed in clothes that you buy for work, driving through traffic in a car that you are still paying for, in order to get to the job that you need so you can pay for the clothes, car and the house that you leave empty all day in order to afford to live in it.

There have been a couple recent events that have made me question my own involvement in the rat-race.  The current state of our public education system, which really does a disservice to our youth by stymieing their creative and critical thinking skills, continues to bother me (and since I am a teacher, I feel that I condone it).  Also, I just went to hear a local Holocaust survivor share her story.  Coming away from that, the only thing one can think of is, "What the heck are we doing?!"  Let us get back to basics, throw all of the excess out and remind ourselves that we are one human family, and we have to take care of each other. 

My darling husband and I are figuring out how we can "opt out" of the corporate world to which we all seem bound.  This idea has obviously been growing in our heads independently for a while, but it is very scary to leave the supposed security of a job with benefits and retirement (don't worry Mom and Dad, this is not something that is going to happen in the next two years), and I certainly have been more reticent than he to move on. We have been raised to think that being part of the system is the only way to survive well.  Reading through Radical Homemakers and other books has helped me realize that there is another way, and that it really does make sense on many different levels.

On a completely different note, while writing this post I inadvertantly started baking the dough that was rising on the wood stove.  So I made the dough (intended for a loaf) into small flatbreads.  Sadly, the wood stove was so hot, that it broke the pizza stone that the bread was on).  A temporary loss for pizza making, but a gain in realizing that we can use the woodstove for cooking and baking instead of the gas oven we have (pancakes, rolls, pizza, stews are all coming to mind).

The State of Our Society

Ideas have been swirling around in my head for months now about the state of our materialistic culture.  I fear I could write a book, but my thoughts are nowhere near coherent enough at this point.  The triggers for the following post are, in no particular order:

1.  The incredibly rude behavior brought on by cell phone users in public spaces
2.  The Chilean miner rescue
3.  The inability for today's students to actually think critically about a question and problem solve
4.  The amount of money in big business that looks at profit margins instead of the greater good

I will attempt to connect this all, although I've added a little something to the hot cider I'm drinking, and it is a Tuesday night after all.

I have become disenchanted with education (you know that already if you are a follower of the blog).  I am most severely disenchanted with the way in which our students are conditioned to learn.  Case in point:  I'm having my kids conduct a research project that requires them to develop hypotheses about a certain procedure.  There is really no right answer, because the procedures were done in the past, in some cases, thousands of years ago.  But through lab activities, the kids have learned concepts which provide them with the background knowledge to actually construct a viable hypothesis.  They have struggled with this.  I am sure this age group will be known as the 'Google' generation, because they think they can find any answer by just googling it.  When was the wheel invented?  I'll google it.  How is an arch constructed?  I'll google it.  They are so used to instant answers and instant gratification that they no longer have the attack skills necessary to problem solve.  Furthermore, they also no longer have the patience to struggle through the problem.  Which means, sadly, that they know no longer feel the joy and sense of accomplishment when they finally figure it out.  The passion of learning for the sake of enlightenment seems gone. 

Part of this, perhaps, is just the older generation looking at the younger generation and reminiscing for the "good old days".  But I am convinced there has been a fundamental shift in the way kids learn, and how they expect to learn.   And I think this new way is not necessarily helpful for society at large.

The most detrimental result of this new way of thinking is the lack of true social growth in individuals.  Instead of debating a problem with group members, kids go straight to the computer.  They don't learn how to argue effectively, to respect each other's opinions or to work together as a team.  In fact, with the advent of the cell phone and texting, kids don't even need to physically see each other anymore.  I believe there have been statistics published that a lower percentage of teenagers are actually getting their licences, because there is no need to physically hang out anymore.  As a side note, the amount of cyberbullying that occurs now is disheartening.  Kids don't have to be mean to each other face to face, and thus it's easier to be mean and say hurtful things.  Again, this demonstrates the lack of opportunity to learn and practice much needed social interaction.  Direct eye contact, civility, reading body language, etc.   Plus, if they could, kids would have the cell phone would be out 24/7.  Perhaps it is becoming socially acceptable to text while having a conversation with a real live person out at a restaurant.  Perhaps it is becoming acceptable to always be available to talk by phone; if it rings, you answer it.  Perhaps it is becoming acceptable to let the world know what you are doing every second of every day (Yes, I am a FB user, and I do post my status occasionally).   Where is the line?  Whatever happened to privacy? Whatever happened to downtime? What ever happened to real friends?  

I worry about all of this because from an evolution point of view our bodies and minds are not designed to always be on.  New York may be the city that never sleeps, but our bodies and our brains do need to sleep.  We are not capable of the constant stimulation (or the instant gratification). Something has to give, although I'm not sure what it is.

And yet, as a society, we seem to go on, driven by our need to get more NOW, do more NOW.  Parents are working two or three jobs to maintain the lifestyle they choose (or feel the need) to create for themselves.  There is this outside pressure that chants "More, More, More" incessantly.  Again, it is the children who suffer.  Many kids have very little meaningful contact with parents, but instead are left at home staring at some sort of screen.  We don't know what the long-term effects of this behavior are.  The hand-eye coordination, I'm sure, is much better in this set of kids, but what about their attention spans? Or, their ability to behave appropriately in social circles.  Or the opportunity to learn from older generations (vertical learning) as opposed from their peers (horizontal learning).

The other group that suffers are the millions of workers who are producing the goods that we demand.  I admit, I was glued to my computer screen watching the streaming video of the Chilean miner rescue.  There are no words to describe the strength and perseverance of the miners or all of those individuals and groups who assisted in rescuing them.  It was helpful to see good news (even if it was sensationalized) when we are usually constantly bombarded with stories of violence, sadness, death.  Unfortunately, only a few days later, we got news of a mine collapse in China.   Around the same time, my brother shared the beginning of one recent Simpson's episodes where they portray the darker side of large-scale commodity production (come to think of it, is there a lighter side?).   I am convinced that if we reverted back to local economies the demand for such large mining operations (and other forms of production) where safety and human welfare is sacrificed for money would diminish. 

But of course, my students remind me (after we read "The Sacred Rac" in my class) that at this point it is highly improbably that we could return to local economies.  Our very infrastructure is set up to require transportation to a commercial center, to purchase food that was produced thousands of miles away, to require transportation to go to school, to use energy that was harvested on the other side of the world.   How do we go back?  Never mind that big corporations are going to do their best to keep us wanting more.  After all, it's all about the bottom dollar.   And that, my friends, is the sad conclusion.   We have sacrificed our sense of self, our sense of social responsibility to our fellow human being and to our environment, our sense of creative thought.  All in the name of what?  Progress? Money?  We need to slow down, think about the consequences of our actions and consider this question: Just because we can, does it mean we should?

Addendum:  After drafting this post, my darling husband mentioned Bill McKibben's work to me, which I had heard about, but, unfortunately, I have not read much of.  I look forward to reading his book, Deep Economy: the Wealth of Communities and the Durable Future.

First frost and functioning furnaces

We finally woke up to a frost covered ground Sunday morning.   The NOAA is really good about warning folks if there is going to be a hard freeze so we picked the remainder of the tomatoes Saturday.

I should have taken a picture of our backyard, because it was a gorgeous, sunny morning.  However, there will be far too many of these days to come, and I know I will be sick of cold mornings very shortly.

Our wood burning furnace from Yukon-Eagle has been put to work several times now.  I'm withholding judgement on its efficiency until when it's really cold, but currently, with night time temperatures dipping into the mid-30's and daytime temperatures around 55, inside temperatures have been reaching 75 degrees (the oil furnace is set to come on when the inside temperature dips below 62 degrees).

In any previous year, we kept the house at 60 degrees  (except when my dearest mother came to visit, when we cranked it to 68 degrees) in order to conserve oil, and thus we spent the majority of our time in the kitchen where we have a wood stove that can warm that room up quite well. We never spent much time in the living room (really a family room; certainly not a parlor), which didn't seem to get much heat, although the 1/4 inch gap between the outside door and the frame may have played a role in keeping the room from warming up (I can imagine my brother, who works for a green building company, cringing at that statement).  So, basically, we survived the winters by wearing lots of layers...indoors. 

The change this year is dramatic.  We come home and change into shorts and t-shirts.  I can spend the entire evening comfortably reading on the coach in the living room or playing a lively game of Yahtzee with the family.  It's a veritable heatwave in our farmhouse.

It is hard to predict how much wood we will need for the winter.  Right now, it is obviously much warmer inside than it needs to be and while I know that it is possible to reduce the amount of heat output from the furnace, I haven't invested any time in figuring this out (obviously the novelty of a warm house hasn't worn off yet).  If we can get through the coldest part of the winter burning 10 logs a day, then the 5 cords of wood we have stacked should suffice. 

Odd as it may sound, I have been so used to a cold home in the winter, that my whole worldview on winter and warmth is required to shift.  Whenever someone asked how I was in the winter, my default answer would be "cold".  It's not unlike the feeling I had when the Boston Red Sox finally won the World Series in 2004.  As a Red Sox fan, we were so used to the Sox coming in second, and we would curse the Curse and then mutter to ourselves that there was always next year.  Except in 2004 it was next year, and the Curse was reversed and the Sox were no longer in an 87-year drought.  Red Sox fans had to remake themselves, and I will simply have to do the same now that we have our new furnace. 

Turkey Brains Part 2

Again, I ask myself why we raise turkeys.  I tried to upload a video, but my internet connection is too slow or I don't have the technological know-how to figure it out.   I will try to get it uploaded anyway sometime soon.   The back story is that one evening last week the turkeys did not put themselves back into the barn through the door that goes into their pen.  Instead, they went in the front door, and made themselves at home in the barn (but outside their pen).   Naturally, the birds feel safer the higher up they are and, as shown in the photo above, a couple of them found their way on the window sill 30 feet off the ground (this barn is a restored hay barn and is about three stories tall).  After some serious persuasion, we realized that the birds were better off to fend for themselves.  We covered the majority of the hay on the ground (we have a haymow for this year's cutting, but last year's extra was thrown on some pallets on the ground floor) with a tarp so that turkey crap (for lack of a better word) wouldn't fall on it.  The following morning, they are still roaming the barn, but when I returned from work, I found that my darling husband had somehow gotten them all back into their pen (they were probably hungry) where they were safely ensconced.  I don't think we've let them out since.  

The turkeys are growing though, which is the good news.  They have            (un)gracefully passed through their adolescent stage and actually look like turkeys.  The toms are starting to negotiate their alpha status, but everyone seems to be getting along in general.  We will send some off in time for the Thanksgiving rush, although we will probably keep some of the smaller hens around a little longer. 

Have a great week!

Happenings

I just arrived home after work to the eerie sound of silence.  The pigs are gone.  Which means in about two weeks we will have fresh pork in the freezer and on the dinner table.  In the 4 1/2 months that we had them on our farm, the 6 animals ate through 2300 pounds of grain and an untold amount of scrap, and rooted their way through an entire pasture  turning it into a moonscape.  We seeded some of that area with winter rye just this past weekend so that when we move the ewes back down to the barn, they'll have something to munch on in the early spring when they are very pregnant and need the nutrients. 

Speaking of sheep, a new record was set on the farm.  My darling husband and I moved the sheep fence (and the sheep) in under 40 minutes yesterday.  We use electric netting from Premier Fencing which is fabulous (I really like Premier for its customer service--if you ever have a livestock- or garden-fencing question, give this company a call), but a bit tedious to move every couple of weeks.  On average, it takes us about 1 1/2 hours to move the 800 feet of fence, set up the new pasture, and move the sheep (and their shed) into said new pasture.  Perhaps we've finally perfected the skill, or it was simply a combination of dumb luck and good fortune (I tend to think it was the latter). Initially, this spring, it took us over 2 hours to move the darn thing (but of course, the sheep got loose then too!).  Yes, we are farming neophytes! 

Have a great week.  If you live in the Northeast, enjoy the rain; we certainly need it!

Remember, Farm Aid concert this Saturday at our place if you're in the area!

For the love of bats

Warning:  Do not continue if you are squeamish about bats (the flying mammal, not the ash variety).

Our bats died this summer.  Obviously they were not pets, and they secluded themselves in the eaves of our attic, but they certainly served a noble purpose on our farm.  They numbered maybe around a dozen.  For the past several years, they tolerated us while we rummaged through the attic for an extra lamp or an old book, barely making themselves known that they existed.  While in the attic, we could look up by the chimney  and see their small beady eyes keeping a wary eye on us as they scurried back into the recesses.  In the early morning, we would hear them returning through the north face eaves of the house, crawling/climbing/flying back to the south face to their daytime home.  In the evening, just as the sun went down behind the hills, we could see them swooping silently out of the eaves, ready to spend a night feasting on various undesirables. 

The likely suspect is White Nose Syndrome, which was originally found in the county next to us back in 2006-2007.   We first noticed the problem on our farm back in the early summer when we found a couple of dead bats around  our yard.  Upon investigating the attic, it was clear that the population had decreased as the tarp we had laid on the floor to catch their guano (valuable fertilizer) was not as soiled.   There were fewer beady eyes watching us from above, and in the evenings, only a couple animals would come swooping out instead of the ten or twelve that we previously saw.

I can't say I miss hearing them re-enter the attic in the early morning but I do miss their presence, particularly because of the explosion in mosquito population.  We have never been bothered by mosquitoes on the farm, even though there are wetlands within 50 yards of the house.  Yet, this summer, the mosquitoes have been out in full force, finding fresh flesh to feast upon within a minute.  I can't work in the garden without being bothered, and I certainly can't enjoy a nice cold beverage after a hard day's work on the front porch. 

I'm sure some would say that losing the bats and gaining the mosquitoes is a coincidence, as perhaps it was just a "good year" for mosquitoes.  It is true that I don't have any quantifiable data, only my anecdotal evidence, for my conclusion.  But the bottom line is I liked having the bats around, and I appreciated all the work they did keeping various pests at bay. And so, for the 10% of the population that is supposedly resistant to this fungus, I say, you're welcome back on the farm any time. 

Photo by Bob Gress

Farm Aid 2010

It looks like Google just made some updates, so it is easier to edit my pages.  Very exciting. Hence, the orange, and the different font.

It's been a busy week (and weekend) in my hometown.  The tomatoes keep coming in, and I'm running out of time and ideas for what to do with them.  I made a peach and tomato salsa a few nights ago, and it turned out well despite needing to be processed in the pressure canner.  We've also had lots of pasta and tomato sauce this past week.  I plan on dehydrating some once I finish drying some apples.  

Perhaps I mentioned this before, but we had a low crop of both potatoes (due to the blight) and carrots (due to my lack of attention and some pests) this season so we are supplementing those with some produce from a  local organic farm.  Which brings me to my next topic...Farm Aid. 

Check out their website here, but basically the organization has been helping family farms (NOT agricorporations) for 25 years.  Every year, the group holds a fabulous concert and this year it is on Saturday, October 2nd.  You can see the concert live if you happen to be in Milwaukee.  We are hosting a Farm Aid/Earth Dinner (you can read about Organic Valley and Earth Dinners here) on that date so if you're in the neighborhood, drop by.  The idea is that the weather will be beautiful, and people will be gathering at our farm from 4pm to whenever.  We have asked everyone to bring a side dish made from ingredients provided by a local farm (it is the height of the harvest season, so it shouldn't be difficult).  We are also going to have the phone numbers and web pages available to make a donation to Farm Aid. 

Sadly, while our pigs will have gone to market by then, we will not have them back from the butcher in time for the party, and our turkeys will be just a bit too small to send off at that time.  So, my darling husband and I will prepare a beef roast or two to serve as a main meat dish.  

Have a great week everyone!  Happy almost autumn!  

As Easy as Pie

I just finished making an apple pie using the recipe from "New Basics" by Julee Rosso and Sheila Lukins as a guideline. Making a pie from "scratch" (Carl Sagan reminds us that if we truly want to make an apple pie from scratch we must first create the universe) isn't really that difficult, although I know the thought of having to make a pie crust terrifies some people. Two hints: Chill the dough first, and then have plenty of flour on hand. I also roll the dough up around the rolling pin to transfer it to the pie dish.

Anyway, the phrase "as easy as pie" doesn't make much sense in today's context, because it is time consuming and as mentioned before, somewhat intimidating. I suppose however, this wasn't always the case. Pies (both sweet and savory) were a staple of American (and European) tables in the nineteenth century. So what happened?

Enter my first foray into modern education on this blog. We no longer teach the practical arts in our schools, and it's been this way for a while so now kids' parents can't teach them either (or they are never home, or they don't consider it a priority because of the ways we can get around not learning these skills). First, in the 1980's, was the loss of home economics. I never "learned" how to sew, and I certainly didn't "learn" how to cook. Through trial and error and a few lessons with my mom, I can replace a button and hem a pair of pants. I am indebted to my maternal grandmother for teaching me how to knit when I was about 6 years old. Now "shop" class (usually called technology education or industrial arts these days ) is also on the way out. Kids will no longer have the opportunity to design and build a birdhouse, a framed bulletin board, storage box, etc. It really wasn't the finished product that made these projects so integral to a sound education, but the process kids had to go through to create the end results. The measuring, the mistakes, the safety lessons, and the pride that that process instills when the project is finally finished and you have this beautiful, useful item. With the loss of these programs, kids sit in a classroom and are inundated with information about many different subjects, rarely learning skills that will be necessary later on in life, when they can no longer depend on their parents.

Over the last twenty years, the K-12 curriculum has become overstuffed with thousands of objectives that need to be taught (whether they are actually meaningfully learned is another subject all together). Kids are tested up to whazoo on all these different facts but their critical thinking skills, never mind the practical ones, are hardly ever evaluated. Educational administrators and policy makers have forgotten that our paradigm of learning has shifted with the information age. Any information kids need is right at their fingertips. Yet we spend 6 hours a day tossing more information at them. But what students don't have at most schools are the opportunities to create meaningful final products with their hands, to participate cooperatively in activities, to learn the business skills for life outside of high school or the practical skills such as how to fix a flat tire or change the oil in the car.

Part of the problem is that we live in a consumer culture and that culture is reinforced by the education system. There's no need to learn how to change the oil in the car because you can always take it to Jiffy Lube. No need to construct your own fine furniture...just buy it. No need to learn how to darn socks--just buy a new pair. No need to learn how to cook (and serve) a healthy family meal--you can pick up fully prepared meals at a grocery store or restaurant. I'm not suggesting that everyone should become an expert in all of these areas but students should have the opportunity to become exposed to these valuable trades, not only to help themselves in the future, but to also see what options there are in terms of professions. For many school districts, all that kids need to know is how to perform well on standardized tests including SATs so they can go to the top colleges (also a product of our consumer culture), come out with a Bachelors and no idea what they are good at or where they are going after school.

Schools often use fiscal constraints as a scapegoat for not bringing the practical arts back into the curriculum. But there would be plenty of money if we were to eliminate the focus on mandated testing (the amount of money spent on state testing is ridiculous) and there would be flexibility in the curriculum to teach these meaningful concepts as well. Policy makers, educators and parents really need to think about what testing shows us about students. That they are able to answer multiple choice questions and write essays based on documents? That they can memorize facts (without really understanding the hows and whys)? Where is the real creative thinking? Where is the real applied knowledge? Where are the practical skills that everyone needs in life? Just some points to ponder while nibbling on that apple pie.

The fallacy of absolute truth

A quick post today as school has started and I'm feeling a little bit overwhelmed and underprepared.

I serve on an institutional review board (we oversee all human subject research for the institution) and today we got into a discussion around cultural relativism and beliefs and idealogies of certain sectors of our population. Upon reflecting on this meeting, what was fascinating is that the group (medical doctors and researchers) did not recognize that they too, are a "certain sector or our population" with certain beliefs and ideologies. Yes, scientists work within the framework of empirical data, which by the very way in which it is presented may seem like the "truth", but does that make it any more correct or incorrect than those who work off of other systems of problem solving?

To complicate the situation, scientists often claim to have the answer, but then with more knowledge (often from the severe adverse effects/outcomes), that answer changes (use of DDT to kill bedbugs; giving menopausal women hormone therapy, using radiation to determine if a woman was pregnant). What was a "truth" suddenly becomes an "untruth". It is no wonder that we become overwhelmed (and feel underprepared) about how to act/what to do/how to respond "correctly" to a situation. In our society it seems like the scientific community pushes us one way and we tend to believe them because they work on the "absolute truth" framework of empirical science. Then the watchdog media says another thing entirely. Meanwhile, many of us ignore our own intuition and our own interpretation of our surroundings.

Today's meeting reminded me of the importance to maintain an open mind; to aknowledge and listen to all sides; to follow gut instinct and to be cognizant of the fact that we are all products of the political, social, economic etc. environment in which we live and are trained professionally. There is no absolute truth about anything. I think everything has to be considered within its context. It would behoove us to consider different interpretations of a situation; to step outside our own culturally constructed framework and look at it from a different completely belief system. We might learn something.

The Mad Dash

It's a quiet Labor Day weekend for us which is good, because we are in the throes of tomato processing. On Tuesday I went to the Farmer's Market to pick up a crate of romas to supplement our own production. The crate sat around the kitchen for a few days awaiting the start of processing. Daisy, our curious lab, only snagged a couple (she enjoys collecting various items in her crate, and if we're lucky, she won't totally destroy them). My darling husband generally takes responsibility for making the tomato sauce and just today he mentioned "we" should make some salsa. I'm not sure if that was a royal "we", a true "we" or an actually "you" "we". He also took some of last year's strawberries out of the freezer (to make room for the tomato sauce) and now I think I'm expected to make some jam with that. How I would love to have a whole separate kitchen for processing. While it always takes a certain amount of motivation to can, it's probably better to do it now than later as school starts on Tuesday and finding the longer time blocks required for canning will be much more difficult.

We're experiencing the tropical depression of the remnants of Earl, and it's 20 degrees cooler today than yesterady so at least it's comfortable working in the kitchen. We're celebrating the cooler weather with our first roast in a while as well. Every 10 months of so we get a quarter beef cow from the neighbors. In the summer we tend to stick with the steaks, but as the weather cools, we bring out the roasts. Tonight it's a shoulder roast with crushed tomatoes and garlic and carrots and salt potatoes on the side. Perhaps a blueberry-peach cobbler for dessert! None of which I've started of course and won't really be able to start until 4pm!

Heat Wave

Apparently, the area got a drenching a couple of weekends ago when we were in Philadelphia, but since then there has not been a drop of rain and the temperatures have been warm. This may mean that I actually can take a whole week off from mowing the lawn! Yay! Sometimes I feel the only things I do on the farm are feed the animals, fill water buckets, pick and then pickle cucumbers and...mow the lawn! Oh, and weeding. When in doubt, there is always weeding to do.

The chickens I think are feeling the heat. And they're going through a huge molting as well. Which means we are really not getting any eggs--maybe 2 a day if we're lucky. For most households, this is not necessarily a problem but the 8 year old loves, loves, LOVES french toast which requires eggs, zucchini bread uses eggs, blueberry muffins require eggs, and mayonnaise requires eggs. My darling husband is ready to dispatch the hens (this is their second year) but I'm hoping they start picking up the pace and make it through until next fall. Obviously, we will be getting a new batch of chicks in the spring to replace these current non-laying layers (keep your mind out of the gutter).

The pigs are eating us out of house and home. Each pig eats about 50lbs of grain per week in addition to any and all garden scrap, restaurant scrap, weed scrap that we have around. We also use a 50 gallon water tank for them which they prefer to stick half their bodies in when they drink, thus getting it dirty pretty quickly. I totally understand the advent of the "pig waterer" but we obviously haven't moved in that direction. So we will continue spending 20 minutes a day cleaning out and filling the water tank as well as spraying the pigs with water (which a couple of them love) and making mud pits for them to wallow in (which all of them love). I'm hoping that in the next month or so they will put on those final 75 pounds so we can ship them off.

Perhaps a Good Read

I regularly peruse the New York Times online, and came across this article about Mary Catherine Bateson's (daughter of Margaret Mead) new book. It sounds like an interesting read. She has led a fascinating life for sure.

Rumors and Thistles

Mowing the lawn today, I inadvertently backed into this.

The thistle gave me quite the sting, particularly since I was wearing my old high school track pants made out of some non-breathable synthetic material akin to plastic.

I obviously recovered, and finished mowing the lawn. The thistle has a beautiful flower and from a distance, actually looks harmless. But upon closer inspection, the spiny leaves become visible and it is one plant that one does not want to cozy up to (stinging nettle, hawthorn and acacia are three others I try to avoid).

The thistle is not unlike a small town. It looks quaint and pretty from the outside, but up close, it can be quite pernicious. And the fact that it isn't so obvious (for instance, we all know not to run into cacti), makes it all the more unbearable at times.

What makes a small town pernicious? The rumor mill. Gossip and gossipers have surely been around for ages. We are all guilty of it, even if the rumors we started or propagated were not meant to harm. But there are some people who apparently thrive on being the first to know, and let others know, regardless of the accuracy of the information. The advent of social networking has exacerbated the situation. Even the mainstream media picks up on stories that are half-baked and flaunts them endlessly. The question that continually perplexes me is, "what good comes from gossiping?" What has been ingrained in us as humans, to want to even bother?

What does the rumor mill do to a small community? Essentially, it has the potential to tear it apart. When intelligent people start falling into the "he said, she did this" trap, things can escalate quickly to the point where the rumor in question contains little if any truth at all. By then, people have become so anxious and self-righteous ("I am absolutely positive that so-and-so did this!) that the rest of a close-knit community feels it needs to take sides. Overnight, it feels like lines have been drawn down the middle of the street and people carry around these biases towards institutions, individuals, ideologies etc. that are unfounded. Even when the rumor has been uncovered, the biases often remain. Just think how much collective energy could be saved and transformed into more useful ways if people just calmed down, did not jump to conclusions and basically minded their own business (or at least did some credible research before coming to conclusion). Small town living often reminds me of the old parlor game, telephone, where the original message gets skewed so poorly by the time it reaches the 10th person.

Why does this topic come up now? Twice in the last week I have heard things 3rd or 4th (or 10th?) hand that were utterly untrue and I was fascinated how such a rumor or belief could get started. I was further fascinated by the amount of angst and worry that these rumors created. If we want to live more simply, disengaging ourselves from the rumor mill (and gently encouraging others to do the same) is a wise choice.

Overwhelmed with vegetables

We look forward to Saturday mornings, primarily because that is when our community has its Farmers' Market. We know several of the farmers and enjoy perusing and purchasing items we don't grow such as fruit and the kohls (cabbage, broccoli), or that we don't grow enough of (peppers). We can also purchase jams, breads, cheeses, maple syrup and all sorts of other yummy homemade products. Around this time of year, however, it can all become a bit overwhelming. In the midst of of my own canning and freezing of a plethora of garden vegetables, I still went down to Main Street on Saturday with my bags in hand, ready to shop. I walked into the building, and then, reality hit. "What the heck am I doing here?! Am I crazy? Do I have time to do something with these vegetables? Do I have the motivation to do something with these vegetables?" I honestly was just about to turn on my toes and walk out when I spotted some dear friends and instead collapsed into a chair to chat. After a bit of rest, relaxation and reassessment, I determined I could buy fruit that could easily be thrown into the freezer or consumed. So I went after the peaches and blueberries. I also bought some maple syrup. I should have bought some peppers for stuffing or slicing and freezing, and more fruit for drying or freezing. After all, winter is a long season up here and it takes a lot of fruit to get us through it. But I didn't. I was just too overwhelmed. Apparently, this is not an uncommon feeling for those of us who put up a lot of food whether we grow it ourselves or purchase it through a CSA or Farmers' Market. There are just so many choices for what to purchase and what to do with it once it is purchased. And the idea that the vegetables won't wait around while you determine how you want to use them compounds the issue. I hate having to throw old veggies to the pigs (but at least they're going to the pigs and not to the compost). But I also know that much of the same types of produce will be there next Saturday. And by then, maybe I'll have psyched myself up to just do it!

Turkey Brains

This is the second year we've raised turkeys although there was a year of no turkeys in between the two. Now, I am reminded why we took a year off in between--to allow us to forget what a crazy species this is. There is an apt reason why we ask a goofy-acting kid to stop acting like a turkey or we chastise ourselves with "turkey brains" or "bird brains" when we do something silly or forget to do something at all. Let me explain.

Our turkeys (8 Bourbon Red, 6 Royal Palm) are about 12 weeks old. Until yesterday they had been living in a rather comfortable turkey pen in the big barn. Yesterday, we decided to open the sliding door to the outside world and give them the option to fly down and out to the pasture at large. They were curious about the big outdoors but spent all day sitting on the door ledge, and staying safely inside, softly talking to themselves. Perhaps the conversation went something like this:

Gertrude: What's that bright light?
Hazel: Gee, Gertrude, I don't know? George, what is that light?
George: Um, I'm going to get more food.
Mort: We're not in Kansas anymore.
Marge: Nope, dear, this isn't Kansas. We never were in Kansas in the first place.
Mort: Is that so? Interesting. What's that down there?
Marge: I don't know. I think I'll just stay where I am.
Huxley: Oh, look, a fly. Wait, let me get it. Missed. Oh wait, there's another one.
Hazel: We're kind of far up. Okay, now, where did I leave my brain?

We relocked the door at night. Today, we repeat the pattern and as of 4pm, they had not made the leap out yet. Upon returning home around 7:30pm however, all of them were outside (probably after coming to a consensus that it was indeed okay to fly down), and huddled around the chicken yard with 2 of the birds inside the chicken yard and the remaining 12 outside (it's nice to know that at least they stick together as a group). Suddenly remembering instances from two years ago, I said out loud to my darling husband: Let me change back into my farm clothes and then we can go get them. His response, apparently not having recovered from the turkey-induced amnesia last time around was "they'll come right in when I whistle. They know that means food". After freeing the two birds that had got on the other side of the chicken fence, I went inside to change, knowing that sheparding the turkeys back in would indeed require a little bit of finesse and time. My darling husband shortly followed, coming out of his denial that the turkeys were actually intelligent creatures.

I really wished I had video taped what happened next. My darling husband is able to get the birds flocked together and headed back to the door of their pen. The problem is that it is a 4 foot flight up to that door since the barn is on a slope. The turkeys were more than a little confused not only about how they should get up there, but why bother in the first place. Now, mind you, they can fly 8 feet up to their perch at night, no problem. But having to fly up 4 feet to a 2 foot wide opening presented an unusual challenge for them...apparently. A couple of the bolder ones (I'm sure they were the hens and not the toms) took the chance, sat back on their haunches and took flight, but it was as if they were flying blindly. They'd fly up but they'd miss the doorway...repeatedly. I felt like putting a flashing neon sign above the door with a large arrow pointing "ENTER HERE!". Once the majority eventually made it back inside by random luck, the remaining birds were faster to catch on to at least attempt the flight, although watching their flockmates did nothing to improve their accuracy at flying in. We even had a couple of Royal Palms inadvertantly perform a high wire act on the electric fence (it was off) and subsequently fly into the pig pen.

Eventually, we got them all back in and tucked away for the night. As we left the pasture my darling husband says to me, "Oh come on, it was their first time having to fly up like that. They had no clue what they were doing. Remember how we looked the first time we ever tried something? Give them a break." Hmm. How many more weeks until Thanksgiving?

(The photo is actually of the last batch of turkeys. I will post new photos next week)

Alternatives to a Powerful Paradigm

Aside from our food system, there is no other area in our society more in need of reform than modern medicine. I’m not speaking of healthcare insurance reform, but the actual art and science of medicine. And at this point I realize I have just angered many, many people, perhaps some of whom think I have completely fallen off the deep end. But if this blog is about learning to live simply in a complicated world, modern medicine by its very definition, denies one the ability to live simply. And the sad realization is that it didn’t necessarily have to be that way.

The impetus to writing this post has come from my own healing experiences with and without modern medicine, as well as my observations for the past decade or so, and some academic research back in college and grad school.

If we think about it, modern (western, allopathic) medicine is basically the science of diagnosing and treating a particular ailment that affects a particular part of the body. And I do appreciate many of the "medical advances" modern medicine has "discovered" (although I think many are probably unnecessary) and I also realize that western medical professionals are compassionate human beings who primarily go into medicine to heal people. But modern medicine uses a reductionist model, isolating parts from the whole. Therefore, what it is miserably poor at doing is taking a holistic approach to the human form--the physical, emotional, mental and spiritual aspects of what it means to be human—and keeping that form well in all meanings of the word. Some may argue that modern medicine’s goal is not to treat all aspects, particularly the emotional and spiritual parts. But when an illness really encompasses all of these aspects, how "well" does a person actually become if only half of these aspects are treated?

What troubles me even more, is that with this reductionist model a treatment for one part of the body, sends another part out of whack. We see this on the popular television dramas, House and Grey's Anatomy, all the time, but it occurs every day in our own lives. All you have to do is just read the side effects on any over-the-counter or prescription drug. When treating only one specific organ system, or thinking that the trouble lies solely within one system, there is a potential to set off a cascade of events, creating more problems than were initially present. One of my favorite medical anthropology words is iatrogenic—which describes an adverse condition brought on (unintentionally) by some treatment. Using an environmental analogy, I often think that allopathic medicine is so focused on the tree, that it forgets the forest and the fragile relationship that exists between all organisms in that forest.

Enter alternative therapies. Chiropractic (interestingly, insurance companies now recognize this as a “valid” form of therapy), acupuncture, reiki, meditation, and other forms of healing. Being a rational and logical person I was very skeptical at first of all of the above. But the failure of allopathic medicine to do anything for a certain condition I have except make me feel like I was an anomaly and “not normal” led me to explore other options. My first goal was to increase the positive energy within my body. I had been feeling very negative and a friend with Parkinson’s had good experience with a reiki practitioner. He suggested one right in the Village, and I set up an appointment. My treatment ended up being both reiki and acupuncture, and eventually a series of Reconnective Healings. After about 4 months, I feel better.

I don’t pretend to understand what is really happening during reiki and acupuncture or how it occurs. What I do understand is that energy channels are being opened, areas where there is stagnation are being unblocked, and the body is becoming more balanced. I find it fascinating that the movement of energy (including thermal, auditory and visual energies) is palpable and real and (aside from acupuncture) it is done hands off. The healer and the client don’t even need to be in the same part of the country in order for Reconnective Healing to work. This has really boggled by mind, but the concept is simple. There are energy fields around us and we can learn how to manipulate those energy fields to bring our bodies back into harmony. If we are able to think of chronic disease or unwellness as any condition where the body is not in balance, where all the parts are not working harmoniously so to speak for one reason or another, then the simple solution would be to bring it back in balance. But it is impossible to try to bring one system back into balance without considering the whole body as well as external influences (I believe this is where Noetic science and the universal conscience is significant). I think I am beginning to understand that modern medicine is not necessary and perhaps not the best approach in order for re-harmonizing to occur. The film, The Living Matrix, does a beautiful job at explaining much of this in a rational way. It also justifies the power of intent, intuition and prayer.

So, why are these forms of therapy not more widespread? This was my major mental block and I asked my acupuncturist/reiki healer about it. Today, we don’t hear about it, largely because medicine is a business and big pharma is making a lot of money on our current medical paradigm. If we look at who is funding much of the medical research it is big pharma. Consequently, what gets media attention are treatments with modern medicine. So a large part of the public believes that allopathic medicine is the only obvious choice. Other alternative forms of therapy are looked upon with great skepticism. There is a societal pressure to treat illness with nothing but western medicine. But, why is that the case? I think a lot of our bias stems from the seventeenth century and the Age of Reason. Medicine suddenly fell into the category of science, based on Newtonian physics at its core (as opposed to Quantum physics, which of course, had not been “discovered” at that time). Subsequently, all illness occurring in the body had to be explained by using this model. Now, we are learning that everything occurring in the body cannot be explained by Newtonian physics, but there has not yet been a shift in paradigm. For some more in-depth reading on the subject refer to Robert L. Martensen’s “Alientation and the Production of Strangers: Western medical epistemology and the architectonics of the body. An historical perspective” published in Culture, Medicine and Psychiatry (1995) and Byron J. Good’s Medicine, Rationality and Experience: An anthropological perspective (1994).

Honestly, if I were in the position where I had some life-threatening chronic or acute disease, I don’t know if I would be brave enough to challenge modern medicine and use solely alternative therapies. I too, am held prisoner to this powerful belief system. But I have lately become so disenchanted not only by the extreme reductionist philosophy, but also with the constant trial and error that goes on when trying to diagnose and treat a condition. Because alternative therapies work by a different model, it is not necessary to pinpoint the exact origin of the problem. Energy therapies will naturally find where the problem is and support the body to make the proper manipulations. With our environment changing faster than we have adapted (thanks to our own influence), we find our bodies out of whack more than ever before (certain cancers, obesity, heart disease, infertility, depression, autism). Allopathic medicine is struggling to find a biochemical, rational reason behind each illness (usually in the form of a gene) so that a proper drug can be found to alleviate, if not cure, the illness. If more people were open to alternative therapies, and treating the whole person, not just apparently a group of cells (because it really isn't just a group of cells that is the core of the problem), not only would a lot of money and time be saved, but a lot of angst, humiliation and dehumanization in the medicalized setting could be avoided.

Miscellany

I'm working on a relatively in depth post that I'm sure will stimulate some comments so here are a few updates to enjoy in the meantime.

Really, it's been a crazy couple of days. The five cords of wood are finally stacked. I know that for "real" farmers, that is probably a pitiful amount, but we had never had more than a couple of face cords to stack at one time. My darling husband's most memorable comment while stacking in the dark, dank basement (aside from "there's a lot of wood") was: "Something large and furry definitely just crawled over my feet." I have been conducting interviews for teaching positions, which is pulling me away from the farm, and particularly the garden. I did end up staking all of the tomato plants (which I had failed to do earlier) and they are in the process of ripening. The one problem with doing this is that tomato plants stain really easily. So, the first morning of interviews, I was in the shower and noticed how dirty my hands looked (even though they were quite clean--just stained brown). Well, that's country life I suppose. I suspect our candidates were too nervous to really notice. We also had to pull the potatoes out due to something getting to them. They are still really "new potatoes" and I wonder if they will end up storing okay. Not nearly as many as last year which is unfortunate as those tend to be a staple of winter dining. Speaking of food, a couple people made me aware of this link from the New York Times about local eating in the Berkshires.

Just as the evening was winding down, the neighbor's heifer apparently got bored and figured out how to get out of her pasture and into our yard. She ended up in one of our open pastures (which we closed when she got in it), met the horse, and then started bawling (in the way only cows can do) for her own pasture-mates. We phoned our neighbors up, and they got the heifer safely over to her pasture (and actually then moved all the bovines to their far pasture so they couldn't break through again) and came over to chat. Apparently, their neighbor's on the other side (renters) have a couple of dogs that ate half their chickens the other day. Yikes! Not good. Right now, our fence charger which is normally on the chicken fence is on the corn (to prevent raccoons from eating it). If we didn't have our own dogs who are relatively good watch dogs, I would probably electrify the chicken fence again. I guess the question is whether eggs are more valuable than a few bushels of corn...

The Dynamic Duo

The kittens had to go to the vet today for some boosters and a rabies vaccination. They are 14 weeks old and anxious to roam about more. Right now, they have free range of the little barn, but they are outgrowing these boundaries. Unfortunately, I can't let them out until 3 weeks after their rabies vaccination. And I also want to get the female spayed. The male will get neutered, but we have to wait until he's 6 months. Anyway, these kittens certainly know when they are on display. Everybody thought they were really cute at the vet and were enjoying the feline company. The kittens were having a good time too, until they got two shots each.

Upon paying for the vaccinations I was told that they needed names to go on their rabies certificates. At home we had been tossing out names casually for some weeks. They were originally R2 and D2. R2 soon became Romeo for his loving nature, but naming his sister Juliet just wasn't okay. Plus they both had tragic endings. One has a white ring around its neck, so Ringo was suggested. Unfortunately, that kitten was the female. Yoko Ono and Lennon? Also tragic and not good for a brother and sister. So, what famous brother-sister pair is there? The first and really only one I could think of that didn't end tragically is Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia. And so in that moment at the reception desk at the vet, the kittens were christened Luke and Leia. And no, I'm not sure how to spell Leia, but that's the spelling that's going to appear on the rabies certificate.

Now Leia is really not a "princess" princess if you know what I mean. She's relatively laid back and minds her own business. Yes, she's affectionate, enjoys being held, and purrs all the time, but doesn't have that particular air around her. Not demanding or condescending or a beauty queen. Of course, I don't think Princess Leia played by Carrie Fisher had that "princess" quality either. She was pretty hardcore. But to Leia's credit, the cat does know how to pose.

She saw me with the camera, and immediately sat down. Not the best facial expression, but at least she was still for the photo.

Getting her brother to stay still for a shot was a different story. The following are the pictures that I got of him, none of which captures his true self (or maybe they do?!):

This is where I would normally insert some off-color remark about males in general, but I will refrain. I can tell yout this: after seeing the bill for the vaccinations, Luke and Leia are going to have to start earning their keep with some serious mousing!